Sam Plays Polo

Category: Lessons

  • An Autumn Hack Through Myth and History

    An Autumn Hack Through Myth and History

    Firstly, I really like the picture I took for this article. It looks balanced. Something that I’m finding more and more of, the longer I spend in the saddle. I’m pretty sure my phone is auto-editing the pictures, but that’s beside the point.

    Sunday was blessed with a warm and sunny October afternoon. Nature made itself alive and vocal for us as we embarked on our 200-minute hack through the largest collection of trees in London.

    While it doesn’t always feel like it, my patience is improving; Enza is making sure of that. At 30 years old, she’s certainly getting on a bit and has likely grown a bit stubborn in her age. Regardless, remembering to, and staying, calm in moments of frustration is something I am gladly improving on.

    Fairly early into the ride we stopped at this cool little biker cafe for tea with a friend. Both Enza and Apollo did marvellously, even if there were some obnoxiously loud bikes there. We even had a little photoshoot with some other guests. I don’t have those ones, but here’s one of the gang.

    After that we hacked up the yonder way to a little place you may have seen before. Strawberry Hill Pond. Don’t be disheartened if you’re not familiar with the name; I wasn’t either. But it happens to be the very place where the Belleteyn Festival from Netflix’s The Witcher was filmed. We’ll forgive it for being Henry Cavill-less.

    Following some lovely, albeit ever so slightly blurry, photos, we trotted on and I got some much-needed and serenely mind-altering solo riding. There’s nothing quite like hearing the damp firestorm of British autumn leaves crunch and squish as you wander seamlessly through paths forged hundreds of years prior.

    I could not help but be reminded, as the Epping beech trees surrounded me, of the world of moles and scenes like these that inspired one of my all-time favourite books, Duncton Wood. As the light chatter of the group that followed faded in and out of my focus, that unbridled sense of freedom that I yearned for felt real.

    Before we ended, we wandered deep into the Great Monk Wood and were met with the grounds of tribal and community functions for the ancient Britons, the Trinovantes (of Essex) and the Catuvellauni (of Hertfordshire), who are believed to have lived here 2,500 years ago.

    Overall this was the longest ride, I think ever in my life, and mu backside made sure I knew it. The biggest takeaway is that hacks are amazing fun and being calm is key to being a successful polo player. You cannot make good plays, decisions, or even ride a horse when you’re in an overly emotional state, but when you’re calm, it all starts to come together.

  • Madame Guillotine Would’ve Been Proud

    Madame Guillotine Would’ve Been Proud

    Polo is the most difficult sport ever. No competition. I’m not just talking about equestrian sports. I mean ALL SPORTS. Now, before you come at me, I will preface the reasoning for my claim with the fact that I have not tried every sport on earth. But the sports I have tried (show jumping, skiing, rugby, football, tennis, cricket, boxing, ping pong, snooker, swimming, platform diving, scuba diving) are WAY EASIER.

    Today was stick and balling. A day I look forward to, although it usually ends with my ego sat in a pile of mulch on the floor, next to the arena ball I’ve missed for the seventeen-hundredth time. Still, while it was a challenge, it was useful, and I can feel myself improving.

    In saying that, I chopped the top off so many times today, Madame Guillotine would’ve been proud.

    For those that don’t know, chopping the top off means hitting the ball too high up, so it goes absolutely nowhere on account of being smashed into the floor. It’s also accompanied by a distinctively disgusting clink, rather than the audibly appealing clunk of a well-struck ball. Though it does depend on the ball.

    We kept things at a slow walk, focusing on getting the timing and strokes right, just like we did when I learned on foot. Even so, I floundered. I was wrestling with myself to remember “leg on, squeeze, rein on the neck” while trying to hit the ball at the same time. My coach kept on at my form, but keeping the commands right through the shot was hard enough, let alone looking good doing it.

    What I found was that as soon as I assumed the position for any of the four strokes, I would lose my balance and either leg yield, turn, or stop completely. All of which, in some form or another, would lead to a foul.

    I miss the ease of my early lessons, back before I’d made the weight to ride, when my biggest problem was trying not to get caught in the thorns after chasing a polo ball I’d sent 150 yards into the bush for the third time. Before I could ride the polo pony available to me, I needed to cut around 6kg (around 13lbs, or just under a stone), which I did with a solid calorie deficit, active work and tracking. I’m healthier for it now.

    Riding and stick and balling are, independently, quite simple once you get the hang of them. Not easy, but not impossible either. The processes are easy-ish to remember, the focus is there, and once you notice what you’re doing wrong, you can more or less work out how to improve. That doesn’t feel like the case when you put the two together. Unfortunately for yours truly, as soon as we try to bring it all together for the final scene, the lead act collapses, the sun falls out the sky, and somehow the conductor’s stuck in the tuba.

    While I love polo, today was another tough day. Being recognised for improving did help, and remembering that everyone finds this stuff hard took some of the pressure off, but it was still slightly disheartening. The big realisation today was just how long it’s going to take me to get to the level I want.

    PS. Did you know walk and canter have a similar feel? Nope, neither did I. But it makes total sense why canter is so much more comfortable than trot. Trot’s horrid. Nobody likes trot.

  • Balancing Progress: An Internal Must

    Balancing Progress: An Internal Must

    My first lesson back after taking a week off was humbling to say the least. I found getting going super difficult, and not having been doing my stretches was more noticeable than I would have expected. I’m glad to be most of the way back to full health.

    The lesson itself was focused on balance in the shots. We do these without mallets to protect my elbows, which is both useful and frustrating. While in the open, practicing my swings going up and down the same line — nearside, offside, over and over again — I also found my fitness has dropped. The knees weren’t holding and I couldn’t keep the pressure on.

    I was getting super frustrated with myself and the horse today, which I know is terrible of me. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and to expect that I would pick up this skill in a short period of time was foolish. I envisioned it clicking much easier than it is. Sometimes, as I’ve written about, I have great lessons where everything goes well, but today was not one of those days.

    Today was a tough one. I even thought to myself, “Why am I doing this?” A sad thought, because in previous hobbies, learnings, and similar what-nots, it was around this time that I would lose my motivation. But that’s not happening here. Yes, it’s expensive, tiring, humbling, painful, and terrible for my ego (or good, depending on how you look at things). I had to remind myself why I do this.

    I feel like I have to.

    When I think about polo I don’t see the prestige, the class, the status, or the elitism. I see the best game in the world. A perfect mixture of power, speed, balance, and strategy. That and there’s horses.

    Altogether I’m glad I got back in the saddle today, but it was a highlight day. A day to tell me just how much work there is to do if I’m going to achieve my aims of playing pro.

    By the way, I’ve been working on a game review piece. It’s not quite ready yet, but I’m excited to get it out when it’s done.

  • Ball then Floor. Well, Ground.

    Ball then Floor. Well, Ground.

    Lots of confidence, energy, but not enough balance. That and having the grip strength of a newborn is the best way to describe the bulk of my lesson today. While trying not to be too harsh on myself, it was a really enjoyable lesson. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: polo is an extremely complex sport to learn.

    Polo is arguably the purest expression of multitasking in sport — The Telegraph

    Following the standard tack-up, we plodded up to the green, waving cars by as we went, with a very hyper Apollo in tow. After some trotting around the green, we dove straight into stick and ball work. The hardest, yet most enjoyable lessons we do. 40 minutes of stick work and an hour-long hack.

    It was harder for me to remember to keep my heels down today. Introducing both the mallet and the crop, all while using reins that I did not like (bad tradesmen and all), added so much to think about that it did feel like taking a step backwards, when in reality it’s me learning. That feeling of being on the edge of failure—that’s where the learning really happens. When you’re struggling, but not suffering.

    While the seat wasn’t coming to me so naturally and in some cases I did struggle to get the energy I wanted from poor old Enza, especially when heading to the ball, my leg yielding was improving. Now, I mentioned in my last article that the beauty’s in the details—smaller movements, more result; that may still be the case. However, today… Out of the brain. “That was pretty terrible” must have been the most spoken phrase of the whole lesson! Followed shortly by “good” and “you’ve missed the ball”. You really do have to get out the saddle, and if that knee’s not in, the weight’s not in the heels, or you overextend…

    The standout moment of the entire session, though, was going head-first—or wrist-first—into the floor. Overextending to reach a ball that I was far too far away from ended up with me kissing the dirt. A genuinely valuable insight into how easy it would be to come a cropper playing polo. Straight out the side door. No time to think. Ball then floor. Well, ground. We were outside.

    Luckily, there’s still a high enough percentage of my body that’s rubber, which meant I bounced pretty well. I shot straight up to be met with my coach’s laughter and us both wishing we’d filmed the endeavour. No memory of whether it was trot or canter; could well have been walk. But my coach and I agree it was a proper fall this time.

    We did get an excellent snippet of knowledge from the occasion though!

    Bring the horse to the ball, not yourself to the ball.

    Another notably frustrating thing is the unbelievable weakness in my forearm! I think my technique was slightly off, because OH MY GOD. With all the focus on actually riding, I’ve not been doing much stick work at all, and I’ve been forgetting the basics, losing that strength. I must train grip strength some more. It’s embarrassing.

    To top it all off, I—almost—completely forgot how to ride again. Not as badly as when I first started riding again, all of about 4 weeks ago, but a minor step backwards from what was an incredible lesson last Saturday. All part of the process though. Introducing the mallet again was another layer of complexity.

    Also, being in the UK with the clocks going back soon, I did find myself picking feet and washing down in the dark. Luckily, the chest mount I have for my phone came in super handy for hands-free yard work. Win Temu.

    For those that are curious: I don’t do too much stick and ball work while riding as we are doing what we can to protect my arm. I’ve already had a very minor case of golfer’s elbow. I wish we could call it polo elbow, but let’s be honest: no one would know what I’m talking about. When we do do ball work, I wear both an elbow and a wrist support and have a grip strength trainer at home.

  • A Day to Remember

    A Day to Remember

    Things really feel like they’re starting to click now. Heels down, deep in the saddle, leg yielding, half seat, and knees are all feeling much more natural again; just like they did a decade ago–when I was last riding regularly. There was some interesting feedback from my coach though, which has given me pause.

    Positioning

    Firstly, and certainly most importantly, positioning. If you’ve read about my lessons in the past then you’ll know a consistent complaint of mine is that I’ve been struggling to find my positioning. A mixture of a lack of time in the saddle and relying on the memory of what worked in the past.

    Keep the Heels Down!

    During my ride today–and just after–I thought the biggest improver of my riding was heels down. Which made sense, as when I pushed my heels down things started to come together. But after some time to process the lesson, I’m not sure that’s exactly it. Riding stability and control of the horse is a lot of different things working in tandem. Especially in polo.

    Now I think it may not have been heels down that gave me the control, but rather that it was the first thing my mind went to, and it reminded me to really think about what I was doing; and to put in the effort.

    Grip with your Knees

    Feeling the knees lock into the polo saddle today was also a massive help. I think this is partly because I lowered my stirrups and allowed myself to sit deeper in the seat, which was the advice from the AI; more on that later though. My coach had been going on at me–as he does with many other early polo players–about the importance of gripping with your knees. The complete opposite of what you have to do in show jumping.

    Polo saddles do not have knee pads like regular saddles do, and that’s because the padding makes it harder to get out of the seat and twist when leaning out to hit the ball. Great. However, it does mean that if your seat isn’t perfect, or you’re out reaching for the ball, there is not very much stopping you from “coming out the side door”. A turn of phrase that’s growing on me.

    Leg Yields & Turning

    All of the above: heels down, relaxing, knees on, are also translating into the ominous leg yield. It’s been a tough one: going from leg yielding the entire manège–a decade ago; like something out of a dressage show–to falling off the side when trying to change the rein just last week. But, today… Today I was a beast!

    One of the exercises my coach has me do, which I have seen countless times on Instagram, has been cantering and leg yielding from one side of a path to another. Now, on Instagram there tend to be cones or barrels for the horse to move around, but we had some trees and that worked just as well.

    We hit this one stretch–of about 160 yards–where, at the canter, I must have leg yielded five or six times in total. It felt smooth, we moved as one, and I could really feel Enza listening to my commands. And, as an added bonus, after getting lost a few times in the forest and dodging fallen trees, I pulled some stunning on-the-spot turns. It really felt like there’d been a rocket of a backhand and I was about to gallop off and get it.

    Holding the Half Seat

    Confidence and balance, two key traits required from any and all polo players. Funnily enough, the exact same two skills that are required to hold a strong and useful half seat. We can talk about flexibility at a later date and time.

    Sitting in the half seat is the most comfortable way to ride. You need strong legs, but when your legs act as these massive shock absorbers and you can remain in control, holding strong in your stance, it makes everything else so much easier.

    Rising trot, sh-mising trot, it’s all about the half seat. Control increases, balance is better, and the knees lock in. Winner.

    Finally Relaxing

    The most important factor however, and some of you may hate me for saying this–as it’s not easy–is staying relaxed. There were multiple occasions on the hack today where I felt my body tense up, hips lock, shoulders stiffen, and not only was my riding getting worse, but so was the pain of riding. Predominantly my back.

    However, when I relaxed–which is much easier said than done–by taking a deep breath in and out, letting myself slump, feeling my seat deepen and then sitting back up, I felt the flow of the horse’s movements come together and the control came back. It literally was a breath of fresh air.

    No longer was I fighting half-a-tonne of mammal, but working as one. Them the power and I the guide.

    Galloping

    What really made today special though was that it was the first time I galloped in over a decade. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were away on holiday, somewhere in the UK, and my brother and I went out on a hack, my first proper hack.

    After having our photos taken with some tourists, the instructor took us to a gallop. I remember getting up out of the saddle, leaning so far forward I was almost between the horse’s ears and just going. The real hook to that memory though was the instructor telling me to slow down and stop, but only as I started to pull away from her. I’m not sour about it.

    What a feeling though. The wind rushing past your ears, intensifying as you gain speed, is one of the best sounds you can hear. That and a clear connection with the ball. Directly opposing the distinctive cluck of chopping the top off.

    From standstill to gallop, with easy canters in between, today was the best riding experience I’ve had in my entire life. Still need to do some work on stopping though, but we’ll get there.

    Starting Ride-Offs

    As an added bonus today we started doing some work on ride-offs. Only at walk, don’t you worry. Ride-offs are one of those things that flood my head when I listen to certain music and envision myself playing polo competitively. That and some hefty full shots.

    In my head this is way easier, but the timing is essential. It’s so easy to foul. You have to be saddle to saddle, and if you cut across too hard and slow the horse down, not only do you lose the ride-off, but you run the risk of fouling; and no one wants to do that.

    An introduction to something I’ve been looking forward to, and I’m excited to do more. It’s also a good thing there are no trees on a polo field, as trying to practice while manoeuvring around various woodland architecture was more of a hassle than I care to admit.

    Coach’s Feedback

    What was quite interesting today was the feedback I got from my coach. Other than that I still have a lot of work to do–he’s a tough teacher, hard on students, but a great one–some firm instruction and ambitious goals are what I need.

    The main thing was not to read too much online about how to ride. I told him about the AI prompting and while he thought it could be helpful to a certain degree, he advised not to take it as gospel, which is basically the caveat of using AI anyway.

    The reason though was not because he thought AI would hallucinate, which it very much can, but because riding is as horse specific as it is human specific. But what does he mean by that?

    He means that every single horse you ride is an individual, just like every single rider, and what may work for one horse may not, and likely will not, work for another. Just as when you learn to ride, you learn what works for you, and while general advice may be helpful at the start, taking it all as law will likely hinder growth rather than support it.

    He did also say though that it’s worth doing lots of reading about ride-offs. So take that as you will.

    My Takeaway

    The major takeaway I got from today though, which was quite infuriating really, was that less really is more. When I remained calm and gave clear yet minor commands, Enza–the pony–would respond. Big movements and emotional reactions used to feel like they should work, as you’re being “more clear” (in your mind), but the horse is just wondering what the **** it is you’re doing.

    A light hand, resting just above the withers, with weight in the stirrup of the direction you want to go, while turning the shoulders and pressing with the outside leg, is really all it takes to get a nice clean turn. Hindsight’s a wonderful thing.

    Quick Thanks

    I wanted to add in a quick thanks to those of you that are reading and engaging with my articles, especially those of you that are coming back. I’m super grateful for all of you. I wasn’t sure about this when I started as it was an off-the-cuff idea done on a whim, but I’m really enjoying it, and knowing that people actually read and enjoy this content really makes a world of difference.

    Thank You!

  • Learning Polo with AI

    Learning Polo with AI

    My last lesson was predominantly a hack. We did some school work though, which is always super helpful. One thing I’m super glad about is the fact we’re taking more photos and videos, which I have started uploading into AI models.

    The lesson itself started off as most do, with tacking up and general chit chat. Very glad to share that the custom polo shirt I made for my coach went down a treat (if you saw my Instagram, you know what I’m talking about).

    After a quick tack up and some treats, we headed off. I’m leading the younger horse Apollo more often now, which is giving me great groom experience. One day I hope to get to a club both in the UK and Argentina to trade some work for lessons.

    On getting to the green, we did the standard figure-of-eights and leg yielding, both of which I am improving on quite well. The feeling is starting to come to me; not quite so alien anymore.

    What we have started introducing though is stop-starts. Canter to halt to canter. Based on the picture attached, saying we’re at canter is generous, but trust me—it’s just a bad picture.

    As you can see, I am leant quite far forward, my stirrups are very short, and my feet are slightly backwards. The position is what felt most natural and comfortable to me and I think that’s partly what riding is: finding what’s right for you. But, as I work in AI, I thought I would plug in the video and see what it says. Out of curiosity more than anything.

    By asking two models that enable video vision (Gemini Pro 3.1 and Gemini 3.8 Flash), I got some insightful feedback. However, there was some confusion on the stirrup length: one model said they were too long and the other too short, so I dove a bit deeper and found out that the recommended stirrup length is in line with your ankle, which led me to dive deeper into correct leg position, and I came up with this:

    “With the stirrup sitting just behind the ball of the foot, wrap your entire leg—from thighs to feet—around the trunk of the horse, with about 25% muscle power, and drive the heels down and point the toes out slightly.“

    Now, AI is likely never going to replace coaches—at least not for me anyway. Part of what I love about polo—and all sports really—is the social element. Speaking with a person, getting their thoughts, reading their emotions, and sharing your own are all a part of what makes learning so much fun.

    In saying that, if I can sit at home and dive deeper into the specifics of my problems, with real feedback on my exact circumstances, then I would be crazy not to. AI is not going anywhere anytime soon and from what I’ve seen, lots of polo pages on Instagram love it. But that’s for another article.

    Thank you for reading this article and if you’d like more, drop it a like, or subscribe to get notifications when new ones drop. I try to do one or two a week.

    Or, if you’d prefer something a bit more dopamine-triggering, then you can follow my Instagram @SamPlaysPolo where I share more regular updates, stories, and more.

  • Two Ponies One Rider

    Two Ponies One Rider

    Everyday my riding is improving. The seat becomes more comfortable, balance in half-seat becomes more stable, and my leg-on work is helping keep the horse at a consistent speed. I’m working much harder now and I’m glad my coach recognised that.

    Today was my first day hitting a polo ball with a full length mallet, on a pony. What a feeling! Even at a walk–coming up to the ball and getting in position, then taking a half shot is invigorating; it’s hard to focus as I’m so excited to be finally doing it!

    Even with horrific form I was able to make contact with the ball, most of the time. We didn’t do too much stick and ball work as I’ve already had to take time off because of my elbow. It’s essential not to learn bad habits, there’s a lot to think about.

    It’s almost impossible to believe that only four weeks ago was the first time I’d ridden a horse, with the intent to compete, in almost a decade. Every day I train I can fell the tournaments getting closer. It’s hard not to get excited about joining a team.

    The real challenge I am finding though, other than keeping the leg on, yielding, getting out the saddle, and twisting my shoulders, is timing. The mallet work highlighted that clearly.

    On watching the videos we had of my session, I noticed that, when I go to take a shot, I can get in the half seat–but when I come up to the ball itself, my mallets in the wrong place and out of pure desperation I rush and end up falling back into the saddle, pulling on the reigns and signaling the horse to stop.

    Out of all my issues in riding, it’s becoming super clear that it’s balance that I need to work on the most. That and flexibility.

  • Four Horse-Lengths and a Willing Tumble

    Four Horse-Lengths and a Willing Tumble

    First off, I managed to keep both a trot and a canter for more than 4 horse lengths, almost completing a full figure of eight in the make shift green arena we’ve got near the field. While rather miraculously going head over tit. Naturally, there is a video of on my Instagram.

    Do not expect anything mind-blowing. It was really quite pathetic and far too controlled: more of a willing tumble than a genuine fall.

    It is difficult to say how much of the lesson’s success was down to factors within my control. Maybe I am simply getting back into practice, but even on the ride out, Enza felt much more willing than she had last time. The walk from the field had energy, even with the stubborn Apollo in tow.

    Then the coach appeared.

    Stephen began snapping me into shape, encouraging me with the same phrases I remember hearing during riding lessons more than a decade ago, before jumping at Summer House in Gloucestershire:

    “Leg on.”

    “More leg.”

    “Get her moving.”

    They are phrases that experienced riders will know all too well.

    At that moment, all my composure and control seemed to fly out of the window. To the reader thinking, “Well, that’s the instructor’s fault—he should be more encouraging and less controlling,” I hear you. I had exactly the same thought.

    However, as I was reminded, polo is not the same as other equestrian sports.

    In show jumping, the riding is highly technical, neat and controlled. During each competitive round, the rider has the arena to themselves, and the atmosphere demands concentration and relative quiet.

    Polo is not like that.

    When playing polo, the pressure is unimaginable, 8 horses, a ball, Line-of-the-ball (LOB), ride-offs, team strategy, and more. Keeping that in mind, it’s essential that high pressure and high demand is part of the foundation during training. That and the actual foundations.

    You can’t just trot up and down the side during a polo game. You need to get on every horse and know how to ride it in 15 seconds, no matter what’s going on around you.

    Although this lesson went more smoothly than the previous one, there were moments when my sense of humour began to falter—moments when I could not understand why something was not going the way I wanted.

    In hindsight, and after a quick demonstration, I recognised that my balance and the distribution of my weight through the stirrups still need work. The main source of confusion, however, was the command “leg on”

    I am still unsure whether this is specific to polo or simply something I have forgotten after so long out of the saddle. In this exercise, at least, “leg on” meant repeatedly nudging the horse with my heels. It did not mean maintaining a constant squeeze, as though trying to crush a watermelon.

    I was also being asked to use my knees and thighs differently from the way I remember in more traditional, “technical” riding—but more on that another time.

    All in all, we ended yesterday’s session on a much better note than the previous one. There is still a great deal to do, but there is now at least a chance that we might get involved in some arena games in early 2027.

  • A Tough Lesson

    A Tough Lesson

    During my lesson today, it was hammering down with rain, and I was getting increasingly wound up.

    At the start it was okay, it was funny that I could not get things right, but as it went on and I couldn’t keep the horse in the trot, or even at an active walk for that matter, it was super disheartening. I always thought I was a good rider, but this really takes it out of me. It feels unfair. I know what I want to do, what I need the horse to do, but the horse does not do it. Why? It’s me.

    Polo is the most complicated form of riding because there are so many different signals you can give the horse that can mean different—or sometimes overlapping—things.

    Reins, leg yields, weight in the stirrups; they all have a purpose depending on when and what you’re trying to get the horse to do. That applies whether you’re playing an offside, nearside, forehand or backhand shot, or simply yielding and asking for a change. The polo ponies are so tightly attuned to these little signals that simple movements or incorrect matching make the whole thing fall apart.

    You have to think about everything and nothing at the same time. You have to process the entire world around you while balancing your thoughts—and somehow tune it all out at the same time.

    If, like me, you want to play polo, you need to understand that while previous experience does help with confidence and awareness, you’ll need to learn completely new commands and skills. Regardless of all these challenges, I could not recommend learning enough. It’s expensive, hard, knackering, but well worth it—especially if you love horses and team sports.

    I give it a 5/10 because I had to call it early. I couldn’t keep the pony moving at a consistent speed.

    But I still did it. I kept my cool, for the most part, and took responsibility for things not going the way I wanted instead of blaming the pony—as I have done in the past.

    Bear in mind this pony is 30, but who’s keeping count?

    A smiling man in glasses and a rain-soaked black jacket takes a selfie beside two bridled horses on a muddy woodland trail.
    A rainy ride with Enza. She was not impressed.