Six Nations: Stuart Hogg can make a giant tower of his 100 caps but can’t plonk the Triple Crown on top

The noble centurion won’t do it. Out of respect for all the other teams – and maybe, too, out of respect for his own mythology – he will never admit to there being such a thing in all his vast collection of them as just another game.

Stuart Hogg at least had no trouble convincing us of this on Sunday. Here was the occasion of his 100th cap. Here, facing him, were the best in the world. And here – in a spin of the wheel both delicious and daunting – was the chance at long last to win something.

And here, too, were Ireland, fiendish fetishists for aerial combat, diabolical exponents of the steepling kick. When the Irish hoof high, the ball doesn’t come back down – cue Bill McLaren – with snow on it. Rather, it’s sprinkled with meteor dust. Hoggy, if he wanted the Triple Crown, would have to be brave, eyes unwavering, hands swathed in Velcro.

There was a huge cheer when his century was announced and he got to take the field ahead of his team-mates but it was bigger for his son Archie delivering the match ball, the scamp raising an arm to acknowledge the acclaim. Right away Hoggy was going to have to up his game.

Stuart Hogg won his 100th cap for Scotland against Ireland in the Six Nations clash.

His first entry into the line, and first pass, was slightly fluffed but there was nothing wrong with his first catch of a punt to the corner. The first chance to run found heavy Irish traffic, hard evidence their defence would be tough to break down. But from this position, lurking on the left flank, Hogg tried again, bumping chests with Mack Hansen. The third go in as many minutes saw him power through Johnny Sexton before three green shirts flattened him just a yard from the line. From there the Scots kept up the pressure and Huw Jones continued his sensational season with another flashing try.

Hogg has sometimes tried to do too much, to do everything. "It's okay, lads, I've got this," he seemed to be saying in these moments, while attempting to catch every high ball, put out every fire and be Captain Fantastic.

A proud man, he won't have enjoyed being relieved of skipper duties but it has been to the benefit of his game and this campaign he's been getting back to his best. And if he hasn't quite managed too many of those electric, irresistible breaks of the recent past then that's often been down to his reputation going before him and the opposition being on full alert.

This would be quite the day for one of those rampaging runs, what with the Triple Crown glistening on a podium, tantalising these old foes. Next to it was the Centenary Quaich awarded for this particular skirmish. And alongside it the championship trophy. To paraphrase Jim “Bullseye” Bowen: “Here’s what you could win, but just not yet.”

Stuart Hogg walks out with daughter Olivia May Hogg and sons Archie William and George on his 100th cap during a Guinness Six Nations match between Scotland and Ireland at BT Murrayfield.

You don’t get to 100 appearances for your country like Hogg without there being the odd grumble or gripe. Kenny Dalglish, the football legend, would testify to that. If you’re one of the best players, and certainly if you’re one of the most exciting, then brilliance tends to be expected every time.

And – something King Kenny from the pre-social media age never had to endure – those grumbles have occasionally been bitchy and silly and related to his appearance. “My hair. My teeth. My f***ing choice what I do,” was his angry biteback to all of that nonsense.

But, turn it on against the Irish, lead the charge to a stirring victory, and the full-back would have been pretty much entitled to swank along Princes Street like Boss Hogg, the TV character whose name has been appropriated for so many rugby headlines – white suit, white stetson, fat cigar.

Hogg’s first involvement of the second half was to secure a tricky pass from a falling Finn Russell. Then having averted a potential collision with James Lowe when Ireland’s monster winger fumbled, Hogg’s dancing feet took Scotland into the visitors’ 22. The crowd got excited but the opportunity came to nought.

Scotland’s Stuart Hogg (right) watches as his son Archie delivers the match ball to referee Luke Pearce.

Ireland were holding onto the slimmest of advantages as Scotland, uncharacteristically in this tournament but in the face of fierce, snapping pressure, conceded a slew of penalties.

And when it came to the hour mark that pressure got too much. The New Zealand-born Lowe – some unit – wasn’t fumbling any more. He plunged for a try which was quickly followed across the pitch by another score. Hogg’s final contribution before being replaced by Blair Kinghorn was a sure-handed clutch after another Irish rocket had re-entered the Earth’s atmosphere.

Murrayfield had to cast its mind back to 1990 when Gavin Hastings was at 15 for the last time Scotland seized the Triple Crown, although in those days there was no actual prize, and some in the crowd weren’t even born or too young to remember when Gav stood under the high ball.

That victory began a decade of domination in the fixture for Scotland who wouldn’t lose to the Irish until the next century. Our centurion did his best and was a seven out of ten like many in the team, but Ireland marked him well, along with Russell, and the heroic efforts of Jones, Sione Tuipolotu and Pierre Schoeman just weren’t enough.

A shame for the expectant home crowd, for doubtless young Archie Hogg would have been very much up for a special coronation: piling his old man’s 100 caps into a great, wobbly tower and then plonking the Triple Crown on top.