England tried to bring the blitz but Scotland's Mr Incredible just blew them away

Scotland have constructed a tower of power that renovated England just could not handle

Hang on, we’re favourites? What, we’re predicted to win by ten points? And, just so we’re clear, you’re absolutely sure that will continue our domination over our dear neighbours, the big beasts of England?

Truly, these are strange times. Scotland are not used to such dizzy heights in any fixture and certainly not this one. It's almost as if our bonnie lads reside permanently on the Murrayfield roof where a piper often plays, while way down on the pitch the white-shirts remain resigned to their reduced state.

This couldn’t last, could it? England had talked all week of wanting to restore natural order in rugby’s oldest contest, of being sick fed up of videos of Finn Russell and his mates carousing with the Calcutta Cup in uptown nightclubs.

Catch him if you can ... Duhan van der Merwe on the charge for the secon of his try hat-trick.

And there was confidence in the Auld Enemy on the internet. Before kickoff, Wikipedia in its list of every score since 1871 showed them as having already won 7-0. Scottish fatalists – there are one or two around – might have nodded grimly at that, especially when these were the digits on the scoreboard after the opening exchanges.

Blair Kinghorn began with an impressive leap and catch from kick-off but seconds later a pass to the wing flew out of play. The full-back fluffed his next two catches and Scotland were uncharacteristically sloppy with the ball in hand on a perfect afternoon for rugby, having barely dropped anything in the rain against France.

How would Murrayfield react? How would the crowd respond to the concept – surprising, delightful and possibly too good to be true – of Scotland as the team expected to triumph? While before the game ex-Red Rose Toby Flood described the stadium as “weird” and “soulless”, Joe Marler was more respectful. A place of “incredible hostility”, the prop said, and he added as a warning to his team-mates: “If we run away from that, like we have at times, then we’ll get our pants pulled down and Scotland will do a job on us.”

England had begun well through George Furbank’s try. Scotland were rushing things, conceding penalties and the visitors’ slowing down play added to their frustration.

The most-used word in the build-up had been “blitz”. Great for headlines – one syllable with a sexy “z” – and the many mentions of England’s new blitz defence had been cautiously positive, after two wins from two in the championship. But throttling Russell for time and space was going to be an altogether stiffer challenge.

Might the blitz defence end up resembling the Blitz nightclub which launched the New Romantics of pop music in 1980s London? Might Jamie George end up looking as ferocious as Boy George? And Marler like Marilyn, not very mean or macho?

The last thing England would have wanted was to be subjected to more singing from Russell and certainly not a taunting version of Culture Club’s “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?”

Russell was to hurt them with a perfectly delayed pass to Huw Jones who set off like a rocket. The English backline caught him but by then he’d already offloaded to Duhan van der Merwe who sold a delicious dummy to cross the line.

Everything about this clash was going to be fascinating, not least the first time the ball went out of play. England in preparation had sat down and watched all the different ways Scotland chuck it back. Now, for video night the players might have preferred The Magnificent Seven or The Dirty Dozen or even the romcom Ten Things I Hate About You, but One Thousand Scottish Lineouts – honestly, this was the main feature – sounds, well, niche to say the least.

Either they were going to have been left thoroughly bamboozled by the endless repetition or able to present themselves as leading authorities on our throw-ins, capable of entering, and winning, Mastermind with them as specialist subject.

How they would dearly have loved to been able to bump Van der Merwe into touch as the winger set off on another great gallop. Remember his try at Twickenham? You’ll never forget it as long as the Calcutta Cup is contested. Last year’s slalom was replaced by a thundering 70-metre burst, flirting with the touchline and, teasingly, almost sliding a foot into touch as he scored. With that flick of blond hair and his gleaming teeth the movie character he most resembles is the dad from The Incredibles. If the big man made the earth move, the roar acclaiming his superhero charge shook the stands. Soulless? Nothing like.

A couple of times in the first half England managed to blitz Russell and right away in the second one of his kicks was charged down. But in the ensuing stramash Cameron Redpath surged through the middle and by the time Russell got involved again the visitors weren’t close enough to hit him with a frisbee, never mind blitz him and the playmaker’s popped kick brought Mr Incredible his hat-trick.

A word about Russell. Yes, another one. We know, and love, what he can do with a pass but the man is turning into a supreme goalkicker with all three of his conversions being struck from way out wide.

In the end it wasn’t ten points, only nine. England’s bright beginning was obliterated by Scottish fire, flair and fitness that was off the scale. England are building again, Scotland have constructed a tower of power in this most ancient of sporting rivalries and it is thrilling to behold.