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.
