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2 years ago
I finally, finally made it out to watch a Polo match the other day after weeks of concocting vague plans that never materialized. And it was as easy as showing up during the match and purchasing a ticket there for a mere $20 pesos - I really should do that more often. As a matter of fact the big Buenos Aires polo tournament starts this month, so I suspect I’ll have ample opportunity. The sport is unbelievably popular in Argentina, which explains the “polo” shops everywhere. And I finally figured out what the term “polo shirt” refers to, and why there’s some guy on a horse on all of Ralph Lauren’s “polo” shirts. It’s all so clear to me now!
So for those of you who are not Polo experts, as I obviously am now after attending a solitary match, it is in fact a relatively simple game. There are two goals, one on each side, and the objective is to knock the ball through the goal posts being defended by the other team. From there it gets more complicated. There are four players per team, and the field is supposed to be about 300 yards long and at least 150 yards wide - which means that in general all eight players on the field are gathered in one small and specific area at a time, and thus watching can be a bit inconvenient.
There seems to be some sort of rule about possession, probably to avoid everyone flailing wildly with their polo stick to knock the ball around, hitting each other and the horses in the process. I say this because there seemed to be times when one would be “dribbling” near an opposing player, the latter not really being too interested in dislodging that possession. Each team has I think 5-7 total players, those over four being used as substitutes, and a lot more horses than that logically to ensure fresh horse legs through rotation.
I haven’t quite figured out how the clock works in Polo, as it seemed to be counting up and refreshing itself back to 00:00 each time there were substitutes. Wikipedia would be cheating, so I’ll just have to go to another match and maybe ask around a bit.
The game itself is actually very impressive. I can’t say I was particularly enthralled with the race horses at the Hippodrome, but the horses employed for Polo were really quite unbelievable - unparalleled grace and athleticism, quickness and strength, and precision of movement, all really quite spectacular. The players riding the horses too were very talented; they somehow manage to control a ball the size of maybe a tennis ball along the grass with a 5-foot hockey stick while galloping on top of a horse. Amazing, really.
Polo definitely has a unique flair, and although I would have thought it’d be difficult to develop a fluid game on horseback the day proved otherwise. From well developed passing and shooting, last-minute defensive heroics, and, my personal favorite, the one-on-one breakaways where two riders, one attacker and defender, chase a long-ball sent over the top, rushing toward goal, trying to see whose horse is stronger, faster. An exquisite performance.
In the more expensive seats I definitely believe Polo is quite the posh experience, but at least in the cheap seats where we were things got slightly more rowdy. People scream, shout, cheer, curse, and all-in-all seem to be enjoying themselves as both fanatical fans and quiet families enjoying a beautiful afternoon. The crowd absolutely went a bit wild when, hundreds of yards distant, the referee at the goal-line frantically waved the orange flag signaling that a goal had been scored. And of course when a player from the home team would score a crucial goal he’d come over to the stands for a fist-pump and a shout.
And that was my first Argentinean Polo experience. Won’t be the last.
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