Some blokes, it turns out, actually like being in front. Marco Penge decided he was one of those rare specimens at the Husqvarna British Masters. He grabbed the lead and just kept going, like a runaway tractor with a one-track mind leading straight to the winner's circle.
He coughed up a couple of respectable scores, a 69 and then a 65. Just enough to keep the wolves from the door. Daniel Hillier gave it a fair go, ending up a single shot adrift. Tom McKibbin and Nacho Elvira were sniffing around too, just in case. But nobody could quite reel in the chap who just decided to play golf and win.
So, Penge walks away with the shiny gong, a pat on the back, and I'm guessing a rather pleasing bank transfer. It's a victory, which is more than I can claim for my own weekend skirmishes with the lawn. The tournament had its hosts, sure, but the real headline was the guy who kept finding fairways and greens, etching his name onto the silverware. Good on him. Must be a gas.