Polo...

Recently I went to watch Polo.  I had never been to Polo before, so I ventured there with my friends: Dave, Cheryl and Peter.  It was a day full of unexpected twists and turns so I'll narrate while we explore the pictures.  Ready?  OK, here we go...

We didn't know what proper etiquette was, but we figured we could incorporate tailgating into the mix somehow, right?  We arrived two hours early to ensure we'd have a good spot to watch the Chukker from (little did we know, but we'd end up in the VIP zone...we'll get to that...).

The field of play.

When we arrived, we were the first spectators.  The president of this particular polo club happened to overhear one of us say that we'd never been to Polo before.  He then struck up a conversation with us.  He welcomed us, and took some time to explain the rules.  Some of the things that suck with me were: a Polo match is called a Chukker or Chukkas (your preference) - a Chucker consists of 4 periods of 7 minutes each (but those 28 minutes take 2 hours to play out!) - there are 4 people on each team and typically each player uses a different horse for each period (that's 32 horses for one Chucker!) - and there were some rules about not crossing over the line of the ball, but that's where it became confusing - and then, obviously, the ball has to go through the posts in order to score.  Essentially, that was enough information for me.

The president explaining the rules.

After we chatted up the president for a while, I thought we reached a good point where I could ask if we were allowed to go onto the field and venture toward the stables.  He gave us permission, but told us to look at the stables from a distance.  So off we went.

The polo field is vast, approximately 10 football fields in size, including the out of bounds areas.  We came across a ball along the way.  I was expecting it to be similar to a croquet ball, but it was closer in relationship to a wiffleball.  It was a hallow plastic ball but weighed more than a wiffleball.  Overall, it was much lighter than I anticipated.

Once on the other side of the field we came across this random man, who stuck up a conversation with us.  Turns out he was one of the caretakers, and said we could get a little bit closer (but still made us stay away from the horses...I really wanted to pet them!).  So he showed us around the stables.  He pretty much admitted to us that he was just bored, and was excited to see us walking around the field.  We appreciated being a little closer than we had initially been allowed.

We came across the above beauty of a horse first.  They looked similiar to my good ole' Thoroughbreds from Kentucky.  The caretaker told me that a good Polo horse is typically three-quarters Thoroughbred, with another quarter of a smaller, spunky horse mixed in, such as a Mustang.

Taking a peek into the equipment room revealed the Polo mallets.  They are made of bamboo shafts.  While looking at the equipment room, we had our next surprise.  A truck drove up and that man in the truck was suddenly yelling towards Cheryl (in a good way).  Turns out he was somehow an owner (or part owner?) of this particular Polo club/field.  Cheryl is a head cook at a coule bar and grills in downtown, and he frequents one of them, so they knew each other.  This just made our day better since he told the caretaker to take us around.  We were told to go and help give the adolescents some fresh water.  So now we had full permission to go play with the horses!

 

Here is Cheryl with a few of the younger horses.  They were not yet in training for Polo but will be soon.  It takes 3-5 years to train them for Polo since the entire game goes against their basic instincts.  They don't start training until about 3 years of age.  This is a stark difference from the Kentucky race horses who are about to retire from their professional racing days at 3 years of age.  Unlike the KY race horses, the Polo horses then play long into their older years.

I was able to pet all the adolescent horses.  They were all beautiful creatures, and very curious about us.  They would follow us around as far as their fences would let them.  The big guy below was particularly excited to get some fresh water.

After getting some fresh water he was making all kinds of faces.  Below he was sticking out his tongue, but he was also frequently showing us his pearly whites in excitement.  It reminded me that they all have a fascinating, yet individual, personality.  I took about a hundred pictures of them; it was tough to narrow that list down since they were all great looking.

Then we headed back across the field since the Chukker was going to start soon.  Halfway across, Cheryl's name was being called on the intercom since (apparently) she was now the VIP of the day, and needed to report to the booth to receive instructions on throwing out the first ball to start the match.  We were all cracking up.  The owner had apparently bestowed this honor to her.  She went to the booth and Dave, Peter and myself were instructed to get our things, and head to the VIP tent.  We were living up the excitement the whole time in our own little VIP area.

Exciting times in the VIP area!

The above picture is Cheryl throwing out the first ball to start the contest.  The next few photos are from the match itself.  It was fun to watch, and generally easy to follow for a novice.

Hooves and boots.

Lastly, Cheryl's VIP duties were not over.  She had to preside over the Champaign toast at the end of the Chukker to present the trophy to the winning team.  After this we were all invited to the player's cookout.  We ate, had drinks and then wished all the people (presidents/owners/riders/cooks) our many thanks for making our day so awesome.

Polo was so much fun, but I'm scared that the incredibly fun experience the first time will be a lot to live up to for future excursions to Polo.  Polo season is now over in Hawaii (runs April to October), but I'm excited to go back in the spring.

Mahalo for visiting.  Many thanks to Cheryl for allowing me to be in the presence of her "VIP-ness."