“What are they saying out there?” “Is there much chat?” They are questions that can be found at just about any amateur cricket match in Australia. Consenting adults, congregating in mildewed pavilions, weathered grandstands or toilet blocks masquerading as dressing rooms know this drill. The recently departed batsman, usually smarting from the injustice of their dismissal, is partially expected to identify at least one villain from the opposition around whom contempt can be built.

This person will, in turn, be the focus of attention in the subsequent innings, match or conversation at training next Tuesday. Struggling for actual wickets and runs in Australia? Offset it by entertaining your team-mates with cutting remarks directed at opposition batsmen. Can’t attack the bowling? Then attack the opposition verbally. Do something with your body language, at least. Australians love talking about body language. Find a particularly compelling brand of on-field aggression and you might build selection capital on that alone.

It’s one of the cultural mores of cricket on these shores. Projections of on-field power and presence are justified as a competitive edge, however intangible those projections may seem. We are a nation obsessed with “chat”. It all adds intrigue to Thursday’s third Test in India, where the visitors might achieve something that seemed spectacularly improbable three weeks ago. It’s a point that feels lost in the diplomatic-scale tumult following Bengaluru: if Australia win another Test – or somehow avoid defeat in both – the result should rightly stand as one their grandest achievements.

Their road to now has been built on tactical and philosophical flexibility that to most – including this scribe – seemed unimaginable until recently. They were simply not wired to succeed in Asia. And even if the spirit was intellectually willing (itself a dubious notion last month), the flesh was going to be weak. But instead, Darren Lehmann’s outfit has already proved themselves not only prepared to discard the rigid orthodoxy of holistic aggression, but able to execute it too. It’s an immense achievement.

And yet, heading to Ranchi, there is a creeping sense that it might all revert to type. The signs were certainly there towards the end of the second Test. There was the Australia we knew: fabulously collapsing in the fourth innings with ripening incredulity to the inevitable grubbers, turners, poppers and otherwise. All played to the backdrop of a frenzied crowd and an irrepressible foe, of course.

It looked to be a bit much for some of the players; the primary flashpoint involving the captain and a reflex attempt at gaming the DRS system that seemed too infantile to be outright cunning. There has been conjecture about the term but Steve Smith’s subsequent description of a “brain fade” was right. Some called euphemism but there can be no doubt that, premeditated or not, his brain was not with him in that gesturing moment.

It’s a shame, really, because until then Australia had forged a style at odds with the ugly stereotype through whose prism many wish to view them. It’s a particular shame for Smith, under whose leadership this side has proven itself capable of extricating themselves from the philosophical dogma of its predecessors. Under Smith, this team has won sessions, days and a match through guile, subtlety, patience and, by extension, some grace. Yes, even grace. Pune, the venue of Australia’s historic 333-run first Test victory, was built on many things. Naked intimidation, verbal barbs and hostility were not among them.

But as Ranchi looms, so too seems the threat of combustion. There may be empty platitudes otherwise, but all the ingredients appear there. An implication of cheating, captain claims and counter-claims, administration statements and counter-statements, ex-players throwing shade, and the grave of 2008 being gradually raked. And so now, a boilover pends. For many, the confrontation is compelling. Like “the biff” in rugby league’s State of Origin, it might not be dignifying, but there remains something visceral about watching opponents antagonise each other on live TV.

Presuming they want to make history, embracing such a path would spell bad news for the visitors. It may make for decent highlights, but contrary to their prevailing front Australia rarely thrive in the role of either provoker or provoked. Never will they feel more that the odds are with the house, and that is precisely why composure should be sought. Because while efforts are being made to influence otherwise, it is India who find themselves under enormous pressure ahead of these final two exchanges.

The Lehmann-Smith double act has already shown itself prepared to part with the doctrine of aggression in a noble bid to win, but Ranchi will test their preparedness to endure the barbs of a nation hell-bent on all-inclusive hegemony. This is rare air for Australia indeed, because for once they have the opportunity of both winning and claiming the moral high ground. In this case, doing so wouldn’t just be right, it would be wise too.