The three reasons why Joe Root chose to bowl in Adelaide

It is a delicious spectacle - the one when the two captains follow the journey of the spun coin, watching, wondering as it hangs tantalisingly for a moment in the air and then begins its fall to earth. The call of the match referee comes next - "It is heads!" - and the winner's heart skips its beat before a gulp of air is swallowed and the choice is made. It is a choice that has been on the table for days: discussed, dismantled and put back together again. Sometimes it is straightforward, at other times it is fraught with danger and misinterpretation. To gamble with the toss is to gamble with the match. The cricket brain is trained to routines. Only a few embrace the gambler's instinct. Ideally the cricket brain bats first. When the option is taken to bowl, that brain goes into overdrive, asking itself myriad questions. These questions lead to doubts. They are unanswerable questions. Only time can tell us about the wisdom, or otherwise, of choice.

There are at least seven good reasons why Joe Root might have chosen to bat first in Adelaide. All of them outweighed by the three with which the devil persuaded him away from the obvious and into the unknown.

These were 1) the statistics about day-night cricket in Adelaide that show winners bat second 2) a suspicion of a little moisture beneath the surface of the pitch that would allow his bowlers to move the ball sideways before it dried out to improve for batting and 3) his instinct: the hunch that simply will not go away; the one that whispers, "If Jimmy and Broady have a good first morning, we've got 'em."

With these, he put himself at the mercy of the two men who have taken the most wickets in an England shirt bowling seam. They failed to justify the gamble and neither was Chris Woakes able to bail them out. Not that they bowled rubbish, far from it, just that they had to bowl out of their skin to justify the gamble. Sadly for Root, the skin stayed taut, so too the muscles and the mind. England were tense, perhaps ratty, and below par. Australia waltzed passed 400 with hooks and drives that flew for six. Advance Australia Fair.

Gleefully at the toss, Steven Smith said he would have batted. That's the dagger move. Not quite as killer as, "Oh well, no point in tossing then" but not far from it. It is a very Australian thing to bat first nine times out of ten and on the tenth occasion to think about it but still bat first. There is good reason. The pitches are hard, the ball quickly goes soft and the weather usually sucks enthusiasm from even the most willing leather flingers. More than that, though, is the ethos that if you bat well, you set up the game. This is both physical and mental, both literal and metaphorical, for it is hard to play sport from behind. Australians believe that the once the high ground is established, the rest falls into place.

Len Hutton's hackneyed line about pitches after he put Australia in in Brisbane in 1954 and watched them make 600 - "Pitches are like wives, you never quite know how they will turn out" - has a strong message, though it is one that applies less often in Australia than anywhere else. Essentially, Australian pitches, which have always been indigenous to their states, are predictable year in, year out. The modern drop-ins appear to wear a little less than was the case previously but in general, the accepted default position is to bat first. The sun bakes these surfaces dry and the roller flattens them firm. Groundsmen prefer pitches that play fair, true and last the distance to ones that significantly favour any style of batsmen or bowler. The pitches aren't fixed in Australia but they sure suit the players who have evolved upon them.

To some degree this is the case in most countries and why winning away from home is so difficult. In England, the weather plays its part - look up not down at the toss, say the experts - but nothing can have been quite so extravagantly arranged as the Trent Bridge pitch for the Ashes two years ago when the fresh, live green grass of home screamed seam and swing opportunity. England were best placed to use that opportunity, as Australia are best placed to profit from their land of pace and bounce. Michael Clarke's men meekly surrendered for a total of 60, nicking everything they looked at. It was difficult out there, a snakepit of blood-curdling cricket-ball torture that would probably have done for teams under Don Bradman and Mark Taylor too.

The seven reasons for Root to bowl? 1) It is Adelaide Oval, and drop-in or not, the saying goes "Only three things in life are certain, death, taxes and a hundred at the Adelaide Oval" 2) The only thing you surely know about a day-night Test is that if you bat first, you have two sessions at the crease in daylight 3) Technology prior to the match proved that the pitch was much drier than for the previous two day-night Tests played on it 4) The weather was windy and chilly, bowlers hate that 5) Never hand an Australian the initiative. Apply your authority by doing what he or she would least like you to do 6) At the Gabba, in Australia's successful fourth-innings chase, England failed to take a wicket in more than 50 overs 7) Root will have tried not to have this one at the head of his thinking but over the last couple of years, England's record batting second is startlingly poor. Facts: the bowlers like runs on the board and the batsmen struggle to balance attack and defence when starting out in deficit.

The unsurprising and immediate reaction of all Australian commentators, whether right or wrong, is that England were scared of the Australian attack. This is almost certainly not the case.

Root is having the roughest ride. He lost his pal, his off-sider, the best all-round cricketer in the country, the talisman and a national inspiration (well he was, before Bristol) in the weeks before the players boarded the plane. There has been more talk of Ben Stokes than of Theresa May, Pep Guardiola and Paul McCartney, who is touring Australia, put together. Even Root cannot have realised quite what a miss Stokes would be. Stokes is the fulcrum, the ringmaster and the game breaker.

There is more. The touring schedule left his team underprepared; the silly mistakes late at night in pubs are trying, and as so often happens on tours of Australia, the experienced players suddenly look a tad over the hill and the inexperienced players look wide-eyed. It is an unforgiving land, a place where fires and floods cause trauma during the same week and where sport defines an endearing and uncomplicated form of nationalism. Losing to England at sport is no-no.

Obviously enough, these various distractions and side effects weigh heavily on Root's batting. While Alastair Cook's best is missing, he is a lone exponent of the batsmen's art - one whose studies are complete and whose work has reached great heights since. Right now, in the place where he most wants to exhibit his carefree brushstrokes, his hands are tied by the lack of award-winning students around him. In short, England's other batsmen - only one of whom has toured Australia before - are learning on the job.

They have been weaned on short-form disciplines, or the lack of them. An age of English batsmen has developed on the theme of a good time at the wicket, not a long time. The virtues of patience and will power have been overtaken by power and flippancy. It is not that James Vince and Dawid Malan, to name but two, cannot bat - indeed, their natural ability is strikingly obvious - more that they are struggling to adapt. The range of stroke and run rate achieved against the white ball by modern batsmen is remarkable but coping with the red ball used at home by Mitchell Starc, Josh Hazelwood, Pat Cummins and Nathan Lyon is on another stratosphere of challenge. The call gets louder for Jonny Bairstow to bat higher and for Moeen Ali to play without fear; responsibility must be taken and they have some pedigree.

The temptation to the say the same of the Australian batsmen lingers around - it was especially so as the moving ball exposed them in the second innings in Adelaide. But for now, such judgement must be subdued. Australia are in front by two because of two magnificent virtue-riddled hundreds by Smith in Brisbane and Shaun Marsh last week. These were crafted innings, based on resilience of mind and economy of intention. The longer they lasted, the more they wore down the England attack, the more substantial they became. Australia have two hundreds to England's none. This justifiably mirrors the series score.

With big runs on the tally, the Australian quartet of bowlers has either hit the pitch hard at pace and with good direction, or in the case of Lyon, spun hard and accurately. England have been forced back and cornered. Root called right at the toss but almost certainly chose wrong when his chance came to do the cornering. Of course, these things are easy with hindsight. He has a fine cricketing mind and will take England to good places, but all captains need the cattle. The England captain has an easy charm about him and the kind of enthusiasm for cricket that attracts attention from young and old. From whichever side you barrack, the urge is to wish him well.

His task is by no means hopeless. As he has pointed out himself, England have played well in parts but must sustain their best for longer periods. He has proved that the Australians are vulnerable, now he must prove the mettle is there to take advantage.

Meantime, Mark Taylor has suggested the sledging needs reining back. Good idea. It has become too much of a story and detracts from a beautiful game played mainly in sunshine with high-spirited players. As Ian Chappell recently said on air: "If I hear once more that it is part of the game, I'll throw up." Enough said.