Hooked. Period. The End.

“Playing polo is like trying to play golf during an earthquake.” --Sylvester Stallone

I came to Virginia largely because of one connection and to do primarily two things with my “free time.”  One, fish for smallmouth bass.  Two, to learn how to play polo.

Matt Lattanze is an old friend from the Heathwood Hall days, and I hadn’t seen him in about 20 years until today.  Matt and I reconnected on Facebook (of course) and upon perusing his pictures I realized we were both riding.  Eventually, as I started to formulate my plans as a traveler, the notion to go spend some time playing polo up where he lived was discussed.  I promised Matt not to be too much trouble (if Dr Phil was reading this he would interject to Matt, “How’s that workin’ for ya?”), and I hope I will hold true to that promise!  

Long and short of it was--this  is why I came here.  I asked my wonderful recruiter at DeltaFlex (Will) to put me as close to Middleberg/Upperville, VA as he could.  Will probably did better than he realized.  I am only 35 minutes away from Virginia International Polo Park in Upperville.

So this is how the day went:

First, Matt touches base with me the night before and tells me the barn manager is kind of militant about things (and people) running on-time.  “Oh Lord!” I think to myself... “Does Matt realize this is not possible with me?”

He has no idea how brilliant he sounds when he says, “Just to be safe, why don’t we meet at 9:30.”  (The lesson started at 10:00).  I was only 10 minutes late.  Voila! Someone has figured out how to get me to show up on-time! 

Part of the reason I was 10 minutes late was because the drive out to the barn was one of the most magnificent and beautiful drives I have ever taken. I kept slowing down to look at the scenery.  Everything is so green right now because of all the rain we’ve had. And the mountains, capped this morning with puffy fog clouds, looked like it must look from the inside of a pill bottle before the cotton has been removed. Mile after mile of stone walls unfolded as the hills rolled on.  I wanted so bad to stop and snap a picture of one straight down its line.  The closer I got to Upperville, the more “horsey” it got.  

"How do you hold this thing?”

I found Virginia International Polo Park (or VIP for short) with ease thanks to good directions from Matt the night before.  I had seen pictures on the website, but there are just some things that picture’s can’t capture or do justice.  Mountain scenery is certainly one of them.  It doesn’t matter how good your brand new Camera is.  I did buy one this weekend...a nice Nikon D-series.  More on that later...

So VIP is “full service” barn.  Which means when it was time to start Polo School my horse was handed to me all tack up and ready to go.  I was on a sweet bay mare named 7up.  Trusting she knew more than me, I let her lead the way out the practice field.  First things first... "How do you hold this thing?”

“That would be the mallet.”  Like every sport involving a ball, the object that you use to hit it is designed to hit that specific ball.  The mallet had an angle to it that allowed it to pass over the grass more easily--but only if you were holding it correctly.  Another important bit of information that was passed on in that early conversation was how to hold the mallet when it was not in use.  Like clowns in the circus balance a bunch of hammers on all their fingers, the weight of the mallet had a balance point where it felt almost weightless in your hand (held on the vertical).   

Matt was kind and patient the entire time we were out there.  He followed me around after the initial instruction was given by Juan, who was from Chile, and gave me additional pointers on weight-shift’s in the saddle and how to take a few more swings than the initial one that Juan instructed us on. We discussed some of the “rules of play” as well. It sounded complicated.  Stuff about not crossing the lines of other peoples shots.  Matt demonstrated what a severe foul  looked like (in slow motion)--basically saying you couldn’t use your horse to “T-bone” another horse/rider. He tried his best to make me take it slowly--bless his heart.  But some very nice compliments on me being a fast learner and my love of going fast on a horse coupled to have me taking shots at the trot in no time at all.

I’m thinking to myself, “My grandfather has the biggest smile on his face in heaven right now...”  And, “I was born to play this game.”  

It was like the day I figured out being a physical therapist was the perfect combination of coaching and teaching (which was what I thought I wanted to do up until then--teach and coach in high school).  Playing polo today took one love, riding, and combined it with another, my love of team sports.  

Thank you Matt...I have successfully been injected with the “crack” of horseback riding--Polo.  

I can’t say he didn’t warn me.  He did.

About then, Juan blows the whistle to signify we are going to have a little scrimmage.  I think it took less than 2 minutes for me to get called for a foul for cutting someone off (was a lesser version of the T-boning thing Matt had told me not to do).  Oops!  I apologized for my infraction, happy that I could fall back on ignorance for a second. But when I did I heard my Father’s voice in my head, “Ignorance is no defense for breaking the law,” and I made it a point to really get the rule explained before moving on with further play.  

We played for what seemed like a good little while (45 minutes or so).  I was tired and sweating by the end but thirsty for more.  My pony had been a love.  She did everything I asked of her (and a few things I did not ask of her).  I was amazed at how much the ponies where “aware” of the game and the ball during play.  I would start her on our way one direction (like on a long shot) and she clearly would see the ball and pick up to gallop without my asking for that much speed knowing she (and therefore “we”) would be well-served to beat everyone else to the ball.  She was fast and agile, surefooted and well-behaved.  

I hugged Matt after the lesson and couldn’t contained my enthusiasm after dismounting.  He smiled with the pride that any teacher would have when they see that flame of a new love lit inside someone for the first time.  He was gracious in his compliments of my first effort and landed the “quote of the day” when he said, “You blew my mind but we gotta work on the rules a little bit.”  My family howled in laughter as I shared that one with them.  

The day was just half way done.  Now we were off to the arena for Matt's real match.  I couldn't wait to watch.

(to be continued...)