Australia's Test start no disaster, but order issues hint at troubles ahead

It was Steve Waugh — Mr Mental Disintegration himself — who once said the most emotionally taxing aspect of his time as the most important man in Australian cricket was not the burden of captaincy, nor the concurrent need to keep making big runs, but his role as a national selector.

How long to wait for a treasured teammate's form to come right, when the axe might end his career? Should he be replaced with fresh blood or someone on a second or third chance, as Waugh himself had once been? What was the right balance of talent and personalities?

Overnight in Durban, Waugh's man-management issues seemed trifling compared to the self-inflicted problems of Australia's current selectors. But you'd need a very specific combination of tarot cards and crystals to work out which question of George Bailey's led to the answer "Nic Maddinson".

The final analysis on day one was not entirely disastrous. Australia stumbled to 6-187 before bad light stopped play and there were at least positive signs in a few problematic areas.

One was a solid start from Marnus Labuschagne, whose momentary lapse on the brink of lunch ended a sparkling partnership with Steve Smith. The other was a steady hand from Matt Renshaw, who was undefeated on 46 at the day's premature end.

There were deeper currents, though. Troubling ones. What stood out was not just the sense of a well-drilled bowling attack reminding the world why South Africa was the reigning world champion, but of Australia, with its makeshift batting order and selection on the fly, presenting as an increasingly confused rabble.

Maddinson's mere selection was contentious enough; he had not played a first-class match in 19 months. The corollary was throwing him to the wolves as opener on a pitch offering lateral movement. That second part was so surprising to most onlookers that the host broadcaster initially had him down as batting at five.

But then, how else could it have played out? Had Cooper Connolly got the nod instead, he probably would have slotted in at five and Renshaw would have moved up to open with Travis Head, himself a world-class number five whose impact in Tests is now being blunted by his ongoing hostage ordeal at the top of the order. Further problems flow from there.

You had to feel for Maddinson. Mark Waugh, who was among the selectors who picked the left-hander for his first three Tests in 2016, has since admitted he had been discarded too quickly. Now he's been brought back almost at random and given this thankless task.

Maddinson's 33-ball duck was awful to watch, but one would hope he's backed to make a slightly better fist of whatever follows.

Another thing Steve Waugh used to do was make it clear to each player in his team what was expected of them in their specific role. It's hard to imagine things being phrased so plainly now. Aside from Labuschagne and Smith, could any current Australian batsman say he's in the right spot for the right reason?

At 32, Head's identity crisis should, on current evidence, be considered a serious matter for the future of this team.

Right now, we are being asked to accept that Renshaw — an undoubtedly tough and capable player whose Test record is nevertheless modest — needs to bat where he is most comfortable, and that as a result, Head, now in his prime years, needs to play an essentially experimental role that is clearly not suited to him.

It is true that Bailey's job has been made harder by injuries to Cameron Green and Josh Inglis, and a dearth of irresistible opening candidates in the Sheffield Shield. But the strangest aspect of all the pre-tour kvetching over selection was how much of it centered on Labuschagne, who was and remains the logical choice at three.

Far more baffling, in hindsight, was the lack of focus on Bailey's claim that the number-three slot could be just as easily filled by Connolly, who has never made a first-class century, or the since-injured Inglis, neither of whom have batted higher than five for their state. 

Even in this era of "false threes" and result pitches, the linchpin positions in the top order should surely not be devalued so casually. Australia is now approaching double digits for opening combinations of the post-Warner era.

Anyway, that is what Australia could have controlled. What it still can't, it seems, is the sideways movement of medium pacers. When this tour was merely on the horizon, Kagiso Rabada and Lungi Ngidi loomed as the destroyers.

Both are missing in Durban, yet Marco Jansen and Wiaan Mulder caused Australia just as many problems without Jansen ever really hitting their stride.

It made for an absorbing battle, but for Australia things could actually have been far worse. We must now accept a world order in which the combination of the words "Ollie Robinson" and "Ashes hero" are not just plausible but a distinct possibility.

The consolation is that a Test series is never decided on its opening day and can therefore often be taken with a grain of salt, per Merv Hughes's tinder-dry diary entry following the first day of another Test series, three decades ago:

"Back to hotel. Few beers downstairs, then up to room … Have room service. Watch Cape Fear. Quiet night." Thus ended the day Shane Warne bowled the ball of the century.

Nothing so dramatic transpired this time around but, for Australia, you sense the road ahead will be trying.