As we wait, then, to discover the fate of 19-year-old Sam Chalmers, the son of one of the greats of the Scottish game who has apparently failed a dope test and is set to face an International Rugby Board panel as a result, there seems substantial reason to feel surprise on more grounds than simply that he is Craig's boy. Indeed, it has been a recurring source of amazement that so few drugs offences have been reported in the sport of rugby union since full-time professionalism offered such enhanced rewards for taking such risks with health and regulations. After all, it is a sport where the benefits of taking a substance that will accelerate a player's route to greater pace and power are obvious.
Yet every so often the likes of World Cup organisers or the domestic authorities offer unsolicited updates on the absence of positive tests in the course of competitions or seasons.
In an era where the likes of athletics, baseball and cycling have been torn apart by drug scandals, is it not naive to think that, as often seems to be implied with those releases, rugby has somehow created a superior culture?
In that context, what is perhaps of greatest concern is that rugby officialdom seems to be maintaining that it should not even confirm or deny that a case is under examination before the final outcome is known. Such a system opens up the possibility of the sort of abuse found in other sports where the authorities have simply kept embarrassing cases quiet.
When cases arise, therefore, the sport concerned must admit to their existence. That may seem harsh on players who may be found to have done little wrong, as I hope is the case with young Chalmers. However, as in all walks of life, those making mistakes which raise suspicion of wrongdoing may have the right to be considered innocent, but must also have their day in court to ensure their cases are examined in a way that satisfies the wider community that matters have been dealt with properly. Without that sort of transparency the scope for all sorts of abuse is obvious.