Involuntary castration

A good friend? One who doesn’t patronise you on the golf course. The mismatch that was my morning’s golf session meant I might be hugely embarrassed. I was beaten hands down, but never humiliated.

When I totted it up, I realised I had sacrificed four quality golf balls, a loss I couldn’t afford. Why, that meant no next golf outing for me, because it was hardly worth me buying half a dozen more new balls, to lose them all.

After the game, we left independently. I sneaked down the lane bordering the course to search... and got my balls back!