Lahore was all about Babar, but the applause went to those around him

There were plenty of loud cheers on day one of the first Test between Pakistan and South Africa at the Gaddafi Stadium. That is not much of a surprise; it was a good day for Pakistan, one which they may well look back on as the one that secured them a 1-0 lead in this series against South Africa midway into next week. But none of the cheers was quite as boisterous as the one that followed the dismissal of Pakistan captain Shan Masood. Except, perhaps, the one that confirmed his departure upon review. The raucousness of that excitement took even Simon Harmer, South Africa's lead spinner, by surprise.

"I had a good chuckle at that," he would laugh later.

Not because Masood's continued presence was detrimental to his side's chances: quite the contrary. The Pakistan captain had seen through a period of pressure early on after Abdullah Shafique's first over dismissal. Alongside the more conservative Imam-ul-Haq, he had controlled the first session and a half to put on 161 for the second wicket, getting their runs in early before they congeal and calcify as scoring becomes ever more arduous on an already wearing pitch.

But for this Lahore crowd, the partnership between Imam and Masood had delayed their gratification just a touch too long. It was now early afternoon, and the Gaddafi, which threw open its doors to the public free of charge, was busier than it would be all day. For just the second time in his career, Lahore's golden boy stepped over freshly trimmed afternoon grass in white, steeling himself to face an international red ball on home ground. It was, as ever, all about Babar Azam.

Lahore may not have wanted to see such an extended warm-up act before the main event, but the value it held for Pakistan was plain to see. For all the nits that can be picked with Pakistan's approach to this format, Masood's Test side is arguably the most honest thing going in Pakistan cricket. They want to take 20 Test wickets and prepare pitches that cannot give them away quick enough. But before anyone is really paying attention, they want to steal a few runs with batters who are finding ways to outmanoeuvre opposition by stealth, having failed to outbat them on more conventional surfaces.

Masood set that tone with a pair of boundaries on either side of the wicket inside the first over. In this phase of a career that has seen more stages than there have been French Republics, Masood's belligerent batting when conditions are easiest ensures time spent at the crease brings maximum possible value. By the tenth over, Pakistan had put on 51; in two games at the recently concluded T20 Asia Cup, they hadn't managed to get that far by this stage.

Imam's everyman assiduousness, with all the tenacity of a chihuahua panting up a hill, was holding back South Africa's coterie of spinners who had bought into spooky stories of wild turn perhaps a little too eagerly. He had got his bright start while the seamers still operated; 26 off 29 balls by his standards is a hurtle. Against the spinners, it was a test of patience, and that is one thing Imam has never lacked.

"I got balls I could attack against the fast bowlers. When the spinners came on, I didn't find as many deliveries to attack," Imam said after the day's play. "Shan found he could attack more of them, and was able to get more boundaries against them. They leaked runs in the first session, but you have to respect the bowlers. Things didn't go their way then, but they came back strongly in the second session, dried out the runs, and got a couple of wickets at the end."

With every run the pair scored, and every South African spin over that went wicketless, there was a feeling of a game slipping by, even as early as day one of a Test. Of the four previous games for which Pakistan have prepared extreme spin tracks, the side batting first have won three, with day-one partnerships ultimately proving decisive.

Against England in Multan last year, Kamran Ghulam and Saim Ayub put on 149 for the third wicket in the first innings, using it to secure a 75-run lead that translated into a comfortable victory. Mohammad Rizwan and Saud Shakeel amassed 141 for the fifth wicket on a foggy first day against West Indies in Multan earlier this year, and never let go. To suggest Imam and Masood haven't just done the same thing here in Lahore would be flying in the face of history.

Post-match, Harmer wistfully noted that the game, in a sense, had moved to within the fringes of South Africa's reach.

"What you need to understand about the subcontinent is [that] the toss plays a big part," he said. "The best batting conditions are in the first session. They got the luck of the draw with the toss, and they maxed them out. Full credit to them; I think they played extremely well."

But the men South Africa - and seemingly so much of Lahore - wanted to see dismissed had ensured that the crowd favourite would come in to bat with limited situational pressure on him. It was around then, just before tea, that the promised turn had begun to arrive. Babar, whom supporters had thronged in to see, had found his innings hitting a rut after a bright start. When Harmer trapped him in front and got the lbw on review, Babar had scored just one run of his previous 26 balls after starting off with 21 in 22 deliveries. It was the first of three wickets to arrive without the scoring moving from 199 to 200, a shot across the bow from a surface already starting to awaken.

Masood and Imam were among those to have fallen by now. The stealthy runs early on which they set the game up had been scored; Rizwan and Salman Agha, who finished the day unbeaten on half-centuries, had built upon that foundation to tilt the game further Pakistan's way. Imam and Masood, meanwhile, had fallen just short of hundreds - not that the Gaddafi faithful seemed to mind too much. And for a side that is learning to eschew flashy individual milestones for gritty collective victories, it was perhaps strangely appropriate.