Colour blind Considering the racism rumpus that has surrounded this series, it is wholly appropriate that the player making his Test debut in front of his home crowd at the WACA can claim - quite literally - that he is colour blind. Chris Rogers is not the first colour-blind Australian to play Test cricket. Michael Kasprowicz was another and both have admitted to sometimes struggling to pick up the red ball against a dark background or a lush outfield. Rogers, like Michael Hussey and Phil Jaques, has waited a long time for his chance. He is 30 and when he needed an appendix operation at the start of the season, and Jaques began with two centuries against Sri Lanka, he must have wondered if his chance had gone. An injury to Matthew Hayden, ending his run of 85 successive Tests, has given Rogers his chance and encouraged John Townsend, in the West Australian newspaper, to relate an uplifting little tale about the benefits of sledging. Hayden has offered espoused his strong religious beliefs and if you think that sits uneasily with his reputation as one of Australia's most persistent sledgers then fear not because it appears that it was his brief sermon that set Rogers on the path to cricketing salvation. Rogers was a Western Australian rookie when he came out to bat against Queensland at The Gabba and Hayden observed: ''Your teammates can't think much of you - none of them are watching you bat.'' Rogers, who was disturbed by the jibe, now credits Hayden with providing a valuable lesson in his need to toughen up at Test level. In his curt lesson about the need for self-reliance, the Rev Hayden sounds more fire-and-brimstone mid-West preacher than Church of England.
Day One: Lunch: India 74-2, 24 overs The Perth Test began with predictions abounding that the WACA was about to discover its ferocious pace of old. Cam Sutherland, the WACA groundsman, has travelled south down the coast from Perth to the small settlement of Waroona, where the clay was originally sourced for the square that was once renowned as the fastest in the world. Evidence that Sutherland's relaying policy was working came last month when Shaun Tait and Brett Lee terrorised the New Zealand top order in a Twenty20 international, with Adam Gilchrist, classifying Tait's spell as the quickest he had ever kept wicket to. Australia picked four fast bowlers and, after the verbal warfare since the Sydney Test, imaginative souls hoped for a morning of terrifying fast bowling -- especially those of the opinion that India needed a lesson or two in humility. India's captain, Anil Kumble, had sought to put the quicker Perth pitches in perspective before the match, but even he must have elected to bat with some trepidation. As it was, India got off to a flier on a decent batting surface until the loss of both openers in the final half hour allowed Australia to take an advantage by the end of the session. Mitchell Johnson made one bounce a bit to have Virender Sehwag caught at the wicket and Brett Lee's second spell accounted for Wasim Jaffer - another victim for Gilchrist. Australia's second hour, when they conceded only 18 runs despite temperatures in the mid-30s, was exemplary. It looked a good deck - not remotely the Perth springboard of old, but with reasonable carry and a bit of sideways movement in the first session. Sutherland might just be the curator to encourage the sort of attractive cricket that will keep interest sharp in the Australian city that is least committed to the game. And at least the Perth pitch justified India's exclusion of the spinner, Harbhajan Singh, on cricketing grounds. That was a relief.
Day One: Tea: India 177-2, 51 overs Andrew Symonds, one of the chief protagonists in the race row that has been the talk of cricket, came onto bowl around three-thirty. There were a few meaningful cheers when his name was announced, but it was a hot day and the WACA crowd was in somnolent mood. It is fair to say that the police did not look edgy. The Australian allegedly abused by Harbhajan Singh as 'a monkey'' bowled not to raucous cries of support, nor to a single anti-Indian sentiment, nor to a single banner smuggled past security. He bowled to what might best be described as a supportive silence. He even bowled to a quiz question on the big screen. ''Which of these wicketkeepers has captained their country but never their state? Was it (A) Barry Jarman, (B) Ian Healy...'' If we had to have a quiz at the precise time that cricket was supposedly revisiting its latest crisis, the powers-that-be made have made it a little more pertinent. They could have asked who was the last Indian cricketer to be banned for racism (answer - trick question - nobody). At least that would at least have got a few people talking. Symonds tried an optimistic appeal against Sachin Tendulkar, routinely turned down by Asad Rauf. ''Bring back Bucknor!'' called one spirited soul, recalling how umpiring errors had assisted Australia's victory in Sydney. Symonds bowled another over. The pitch was flat and so was he. Tendulkar was rapped again on the pad. It was a bit high and legsideish, but a good shout all the same. Rauf shunned the appeal yet again. Australia's response was that of a side who had been told to behave. Symonds swore, but only to himself and very gently; wicketkeeper and slip turned their backs and had a little chat about their misfortune, as polite as two elderly walkers wondering if it was about to rain; and Ricky Ponting, the captain who had read calls for his sacking, scuffed the turf with his boot ever so quietly so as not to harm a single blade of grass. ''And the answer is (A) Barry Jarman,'' said the PA announcer. By tea, both Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid had fifties. On ABC radio, Terry Alderman, who knows a bit about Perth pitches, was predicting a draw. Back at headquarters in Dubai, the ICC's chief executive Mal Speed, will have sighed with pleasure at a crisis defused.
Day One: Close: India 297-6, 84 overs
India have played fast and loose during the Harbhajan Singh affair. Their leadership has been uncertain, their explanations appearing as if on a whim. But when it comes to Rahul Dravid, India exhibits none of those qualities. Dravid's batting has long been recognised to be as practical as India's officials are quixotic. His methodology, unlike those who rule over him, is thoroughly appraised. His judgment is to be relied upon. It was Dravid who assembled a cogent cricketing response following India's week of unreason. An Australian side shaken by the hostility of their own public following their victory in the Sydney Test laboured to prize an advantage. His 25th Test hundred and second in Australia looked assured. Then, seven runs short of his hundred, Dravid had his ''Indian Official'' moment. A career built upon reliability gave way to recklessness. The urge to haul Andrew Symonds part-time off-spin high over the grassy banking at deep midwicket consumed him and a horrible miscue arced gently to short extra cover. He left with an angry swing of his bat, as if no longer sure of his own mind. (There again, this correspondent initially identified Symonds as Clarke... so no-one is perfect). Australia's most renowned spinner is to be found these days on the electronic scoreboard - a cartoon version of Shane Warne, sitting on a case of lager. But the token substitutes are filling in with rare success. In Sydney, Australia's captain, Ricky Ponting, ecstatically commented in Sydney that Michael Clarke has temporarily laid claim to Warne's golden touch, his part-time spin claiming three wickets in five balls as Australia won with seven balls to spare in Sydney. This time Symonds dislodged Dravid, the lintel in India's ageing batting wall. To present Dravid, in the nineties, with the bowler at the centre of the racism controversy, was an imaginative piece of captaincy by Ponting who will believe that he deserved his luck after a week in which he has endured heavy criticism. Australia have done much agonising since Sydney about why their 16-Test winning run has not automatically brought them popularity. There were satisfied enough last night. There is no cure like hard work. Dravid, until his unexpected lapse, had ensured them of that.
