Tag: Lesson

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.

September 30, 2026
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.

September 27, 2026
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.

September 10, 2026
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.

September 2, 2026
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 rainy ride with Enza. She was not impressed.

August 29, 2026