On the eighth hole, with them five up, I started doing some grumbling myself. I was freely tossing around the word "sandbaggers," in reference to my opponents. Bill then offered this worldly observation. He said, "No matter who you are, or where you're from, nobody likes a sandbagger."
The boys beat me like a drum. I even tried a press on the last hole and Spiros the hammer made par and beat me again when I missed the four-footer to saw him off. Nobody--and I mean nobody--likes a sandbagger.
The boys said they'll drop it to 10 strokes next time. How nice of them.