Never the sore loser, I rack my brain for excuses and realise our little race actually shines a light on the Focus’s core philosophy. Who cares if the manual ’box loses it a race or two or if the interior is a bit scratchy in places? Its job is to make serious performance accessible, pleasurable and affordable to the man in the street. It achieves that, no question, but to leave it there would be damning it with faint praise, because it’s fundamentally a better driver’s car than the other three here.

While the Golf R still has flashes of magic in its bones and can smoothe the edges off the real world better than the other three, it’s too staid in the face of more exotic competition. The same can’t be said of the flamboyant Civic, but its main contribution on this test was to highlight the shortcomings of front-wheel drive. The recent changes have done the Mercedes a world of good, it’s still the most unhinged hatch in the world and it’s learned not to take itself too seriously. But despite the *****-waving rear wing, double diffuser and silly exhaust (kept permanently in its shouty setting, of course), it still lacks a layer of interactivity at and beyond the limit – space that the Focus RS now officially owns. The tectonic plates are shifting alright, and it’s the RS that’s moving them.