How the term ‘sandbagger’ became a golf accusation

Consider the sandbagger. You’re familiar with the term and the type. Did you know, though, that neither got its start in golf?

In mid-19th-century England, “sandbagging” was punishable by imprisonment. But it didn’t describe an on-course crime. It referred to the work of common thugs who would knock their victims cold with sandbags and make off with their valuables.

That was a far cry from the word’s original meaning. In the early 1800s, to sandbag was to shore up or stabilize, often as a defense against flooding. But language, like trouble, has a way of spreading.

By the Roaring Twenties, sandbagging had taken metaphorical shape: bullying, coercion, intimidation. Its literal applications expanded, too. In poker, sandbagging became a kind of reverse bluff: playing possum with pocket aces to lure others into the pot.

How and when the term wandered onto the golf course is murkier. But by the 1940s, “sandbagging” had become shorthand in sports for a competitor who downplayed his advantage or deliberately underperformed.

Which brings us, inevitably, to that guy at your club.

By the early 1960s, characters like him were commonplace enough to inspire widespread complaint. The golf press addressed them with pious indignation. In one article from the Pensacola News Journal, the sandbagger was depicted as “an odious character indeed, for he perverts that purpose of the game.” No murkiness there. The sandbagger wasn’t merely gaming the system; he was committing a sin against golf itself.

The tone in those old references is steeped in moral outrage, as though sandbagging belonged alongside slow play, foot wedges and loud trousers as evidence of civilization’s decline. But it’s also telling. That the term was showing up so regularly in golf coverage suggested that it had already been circulating in locker rooms and betting games for some time.

In fact, evidence points to sandbagging gaining real traction in the 1950s, alongside the growing popularity of Calcuttas — handicapped matches with a gambling twist, their name borrowed from the Indian city where British colonists once wagered on horses. The format was tailor-made for the modern sandbagger: keep your handicap comfortably inflated, wait for the right moment, then “discover” your swing when money is on the line.

Today, the word has softened around the edges. “Sandbagger” can still be a harsh accusation, hissed in a stage whisper as the winner of a net event walks up to collect his prize. But it can also be tossed around as friendly ribbing, even a sideways compliment. It’s a golfer’s way of saying: Nice round. Now tell us what you really play to.

The USGA seems allergic to the term. You’d be hard-pressed to find “sandbagging” anywhere in its Rules of Golf or other official writing. Even hard and soft caps — measures that help safeguard against sandbagging — are presented instead in the diplomatic language of fairness, as tools to ensure a Handicap Index accurately reflects a player’s ability.