Marco!…. Polo!
Marco!…. Polo!
Bike!………Polo?
WTF.
That was my reaction when I read the e-mail inviting me to a Hub bike polo match in Larson Park on the 4th of July. I’d seen video of Prince Charles playing polo. I’d played water polo. I’d owned a few Polo shirts back in the day. I’d never, however, heard of bike polo.
The next morning I packed up Pig and headed to Larson Park’s baseball field….
Ron’s son’s 3′x3′ backyard soccer goals were set up about 60 yards from each other in the outfield.
The ball of choice for this event was a miniature basketball that was about 6″ in diameter.
Each of us were given a mallet that was custom-made by Ron to fit the rigors of the sport. They were about as long as a croquet mallet with pine shafts and oak heads and grips made out of duct tape. Cool.
We split into 2 teams of 4. Ron and Devin were the respective captains. I was on Ron’s team.
Before we began, Ron gave us four basic instructions…
1. Don’t get your mallet stuck in your spokes.
2. Yell “Clear!” if you’re gonna wind up and swing big.
3. There is no out of bounds.
4. Get in Devin’s way as much as possible.
Devin’s team had first possession. They charged towards us. It didn’t take long to realize that transferring the mallet from right to left was going to be my biggest challenge of the day. I was all thumbs.
There was a reason that Ron told us to get in Devin’s way. He was hands down the best player out there. I must admit. My favorite thing to do, albeit futile, was to try to block Devin.
The highlight of my less than skill-filled bike polo performance occured when the ball rolled my direction when I was a few feet in front of the goal. As I lunged to push the ball toward the goal, I could tell that the mallet was slipping from my sweaty hand and that Pig was slipping out from under me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Devin sweeping across to block me. Oh man. I threw out my hands and shut my eyes. Crshnkt. I looked up and saw Devin lying on the ground with Pig’s handlebars stuck in the rear wheel of his bike. Next I looked over and saw the ball sitting in the goal. Holy cow. I had scored!
Devin was fine. His bike had a broken spoke. We all had a good laugh yanking Pig out of Devin’s rear wheel. That proved to be the first of many collisions and broken spokes that lead to more great stories and moments of glory. Shoot. It was a great time.

If you can joke about a broken spoke,
I highly recommend giving bike polo a whirl. It is a ball.

Yours in Recreational/Social Cycling,
BR