Eoin Morgan not knowing that he'd scored a hundred the other day made him seem even more square-jawed and implacable than he actually was. You can only imagine how he would have felt inside, down in that dark quarter of the soul, had he just missed out.
Way back many seasons ago, I remember nearing the mark without knowing exactly how many I had, and taking a single. Team-mates on the boundary started clapping. It must have been a sunday game because back then the tradition was for the batsman to surrender his wicket if he reached a hundred. I slogged the next one high and the fielder at long off, somewhat comically, managed to fall on his arse and tip it over the boundary for six. When everyone had stopped laughing, I was caught off the next ball, by the same man.
Having a look in the scorebook at tea [come on, who doesn't...], I saw a sight that curdled the blood: in my column it said - 'caught bloke, bowled bloke 105'.
They'd miscounted on 99. I can still feel the chill...