Two guards of honour is probably a bit much to ask.

The fanfare that greeted David Warner’s short stay at the crease on day one was done away with on the morning of day two, with only the SCG members on hand to offer a reminder that this was an innings of some significance.

If things go a certain way in the days to come, that walk to the middle may be Warner’s last in Test cricket. Without question, that fact was at the front of his mind with every step.

The David Warner Farewell Tour has been a curious beast. Scheduled way back in June last year when the man himself picked a date to say goodbye, Warner’s impending retirement has offered this series a momentum it may not have otherwise had.

The Mitchell Johnson comments put the Test cricket summer on the back page just in time for game one, and sparked a divide that will persist well beyond Warner’s final Test — you’re either with him, or you’re against him.

And so, even as a large swathe of Australians resented the idea of offering the polarising Warner a protracted swan song, he arrived in Sydney with ambitions of going out on top.

Then someone nicked his cap.

Then he only just barely survived a sticky final over on the first day.

Then he should have been out for 20 early on day two.

Then he was out for 34 not long later.

It wasn’t meant to go like this. Warner has always enjoyed the greatest highlights of his career in moments of personal glory or when under most public scrutiny — somehow this Test match counts as both.

Warner made a century in his 100th Test, just as the cries got louder to drop him. He lit up the MCG when plucked from obscurity in his maiden T20 against South Africa in 2009. Just a few weeks ago in Perth, he offered his riposte to the naysayers with a century to start the summer.

He’s made hundreds in single sessions when the game or opponent has allowed him a modicum of freedom. He is one of a small handful of Australians to have a Test triple-century to his name, the ultimate in batting ruthlessness.

Say what you will about his ability to lift for the important team moments, Warner has seldom failed to rise for his own big occasions.

He seemed as surprised as anyone when Babar Azam hung on to an edged delivery from Salman Ali Agha, bringing an unconvincing innings to a halt. His was meant to be the story of the day, and with its premature end, what was left to fill the void?

The answer was: a whole lot of nothing.

Usman Khawaja batted meticulously before he gloved one behind for 47. Marnus Labuschagne plodded around for a while before it got too dark and, eventually, wet for any more cricket to be played.

He probably could have seen it coming when he booked the SCG as the venue for his big party, but sitting around the change rooms playing cards through some drizzle isn’t the party Warner had in mind.

Is this it? Is this how the David Warner story ends? After 15 years of unfettered controversy and debate, it’s so long and good luck?

Surmising Warner’s career in its totality is a difficult task, even more so without a satisfying ending.

A mainstay for a generation of Test cricket, there has never really been a team or an era that has belonged to him. He came up through Michael Clarke’s team, watched the baton get handed to Steve Smith and will see out his career overshadowed by the greatness of Pat Cummins.

Beyond the captaincy, the performances of these men meant all others would pale in comparison, including Warner.

He’s been almost historically prolific at the top of the order, but what did the sum total of those runs really mean?

It’s often said he changed Test cricket as an aggressive opener, but was he a revolutionary or just a natural progression from the likes of Matthew Hayden, arriving just as the T20 boom took over anyway?

His personality means much of the public may never fully warm to him, but how much of his abrasiveness is performative and how much is the real man? And beyond that, has he matured to the point where the indiscretions of his past can be forgiven, if not fully forgotten?

These are rhetorical questions from a cricketer who has never provided us an easy answer. Maybe it was foolish to expect some from his final game.

Warner will most likely get another chance to offer a parting gift in the second innings, but none better than Thursday. Flat pitch, lacklustre opponent, all eyes on him.

For a player and a man who has built his life on the bash, crash and bang, perhaps the final act of defiance would be to go out with a whimper.