L AST WOR D
AN OLYMPIC
POLO LESSON
hen you have
a moment
between the regular
demands of attending the polo
– refilling your champagne,
trying to work out how JoAnn Strauss got into that
magnificent dress, wondering
if it’s possible to hot-wire the
dazzling BMW i8 outside
the marquee (and could
you outrun the police to the
Mozambican border?) – have
a look down onto the field.
The professional polo match
that’s playing out as a soothing
backdrop to your glamorous
Sunday is a glorious symphony
of man and horse, a perfect
piece of sporting theatre
that looks awfully quick, and
just a little dangerous – but
not all that difficult, really.
The horses are clearly doing
most of the work, swinging
Victor Matfield’s oversized
croquet mallet looks pretty
straightforward, and the goal
you’re aiming for is roughly
the size of Malawi. At the risk
of offending the Jilly Cooper
extras charging up and down
the field in their ‘80s white
jeans two sizes too small,
anyone could play polo…
…until anyone tries to play
polo and then you discover it’s
monumentally, ridiculously,
impossibly difficult.
I’ve done some silly things
for my television show. I’ve
skied down the wrong side
of a mountain in Switzerland
with Mike Horne, a man
who makes Steve Irwin look
sensible and measured. I’ve
swum with Cameron van der
Burgh in the Zambezi, coming
to a halt metres before the
82
BMW INTERNATIONAL POLO
‘In my silken hands, a pony (as one
must call them – ‘donkeys’ is frowned
upon, apparently) has the turning
circle of a combine harvester, and the
handling of a 16-year-old having his
first driving lesson.’
river tumbles over a cliff and
becomes the Victoria Falls.
And I’ve clung terrified to the
back of a BMW superbike
hurtling round a track at 240
kilometres an hour, screaming
with all the tough bravado
of the front row at a One
Direction concert.
And so getting onto a horse
and knocking a ball around
a field for an hour seemed like
a very mild afternoon out in
comparison. The venue was
Val de Vie, the home of polo
in Cape Town, which is also
home to Olympic swimmer
Ryk Neethling, who’d arranged
my polo introduction with a
quiet smile I should have read
into more. Ryk is a good mate
of mine, and there is nothing
good friends like more than
to see each other being greatly
embarrassed in public…
Ryk is a blonde-fringed block
of chiselled granite; standing
next to him, it’s impossible
not to feel like Danny DeVito
to his Arnold Schwarzenegger
in Twins. That image extends,
sadly, when he swings
effortlessly onto a horse,
while you in turn end up being
shoved onto your saddle by
two stable hands trying their
best not to laugh. But it’s once
you’re on your horse that the
true challenge of polo unfolds.
The video footage is buried
somewhere in a dark corner
of the Internet, but here’s a
summary of the challenges
inherent to your first skirmish
with the sport of kings. In my
silken hands, a pony (as one
must call them – ‘donkeys’ is
frowned upon, apparently) has
the turning circle of a combine
harvester, and the handling
of a 16-year-old having his
first driving lesson. The ball is
never in the slightest danger
of being hit by the awkwardly
swinging broomstick in your
hand, and as for the wide open
goals suddenly shrinking…
In my defence, I did
manage a few half-decent
strikes, although most
were drowned out by the
sound of Ryk chuckling
in the background. (He’s
now officially my least
favourite gold medal-winning
Olympian.) At one point
I even managed a goal; that I
was three feet away is entirely
irrelevant. But when I fell off
my pony for a third time, and
trudged off to find solace in the
bar, I accepted the fact that it’s
all rather more difficult that it
looks. Refill your champagne,
then admire Jo-Ann and
the cars in equal measure,
and accept my experienced
opinion: polo is a wonderful
sport, just as long as you don’t
actually try to play it. ■
Dan Nicholl is a BMW
ambassador; catch The Dan
Nicholl Show on Wednesday
nights at 7pm on SuperSport 1.
PHOTOGRAPH: SUPPLIED
How difficult can the game of polo be?
Ridiculously, impossibly difficult as Dan Nicholl discovers.