AT THE END, Tiger Woods punched the air with both fists, let out a raucous cry of 'Yes' and then cried like a baby in the arms of his caddie Steve Williams and his wife Elin.
The emotion, coming so soon after the death of his father and golfing mentor Earl, was overwhelming.
But everything else Woods did in winning the 135th Open by two shots with a total of 18 under par was the epitome of control.
It was his third Open, his 11th major. In my view it was also irrevocable proof that he is the most accomplished golfer and arguably the greatest sportsman who has ever lived.
True, Muhammad Ali touched the hearts of more, Pele's magical moments traversed the generations and Jack Nicklaus has won more majors, 18 of them.
But Woods is catching up quick, with greater style and dominance, and given health and fitness the record some said would never be beaten surely will soon be consigned to history.
That is the achievement of Woods. With him history this past decade has been dismantled and systematically reconstructed.
For those who like their genius wrapped in the simplest of packages, Woods' Open could also not have been more efficient.
Predictably, some will complain about a lack of drama and there is no doubt Woods' ability to play at his best when the tension is at its height can reduce even wonderful leaderboards to a procession.
But let's not carp about that. Let's glory in the manner of the achievement.
Woods did not pummel the opposition with the brute force of his hitting as he has done so often in the past. Nor did he rely on luck.
He worked out Hoylake's pot-bunkered fairways and constructed a strategy to negotiate them. A strategy which saw him deploy his driver just once in 72 holes and visit just three bunkers all tournament. A strategy of total concentration plus iron play of the highest order.
