Any day where I’m going to be near horses is a good day, period. Today is going to be particularly good fun for two reasons: firstly, it’s a weekday (so I’ve avoided morning appointments and will do my “other” work from home); secondly, I’m relying on impeccable timing by not one but two polo managers – and they in turn are both relying on me to keep their spectators happy. To respect the traditions of the game I wear spotless white trousers, ensure that my stout half-boots are well polished and wear a light quilted jacket (plenty of pockets) over my shirt. Those pockets get filled with the HPA (Hurlingham Polo Association) Pocket Rules and my faithful Moleskine notebook, together with the copies of the programmes which have been e-mailed and faxed to me. Already I’ve marked for later identification any player’s names which are unfamiliar to me.
Being an addict of yerba mate, I prepare a fresh brew together with a thermos of hot water for topping-up during play and bring that out to the car. Already there are my 10x25 field-glasses, a pair of small radio-microphones and a box of Nigroids in case I get hoarse!
On the journey I use my hands-free mobile to keep up with the other side of my work, then switch to silent mode on passing through the gates of Ascot Park Polo Club where a two-hour “Zero to Hero” corporate event is nearing its climax. There are only nine playing guests (plus supporters) today so there’ll be a round-robin of three chukkas in the arena before they have a well-earned lunch. I make my number with the polo manager, grab a copy of the latest programme, check who’s umpiring and do a quick test of the PA equipment.
As soon as teams A and B have put on their coloured shirts, I go into the arena to mingle with the ponies and record people’s first names and any other feature that may help me recognise them. Such notes may be made either on the programme or in my notebook. Short-term memory is key, the notes must be there but will seldom be referred to during play.
Before I start the commentary proper there’s the welcome greeting (taking care to mention the name of the company) and then list the players and the officials – reminding the spectators that the umpire is king and that ends will be changed at the end of each chukka. Positioned at top of the stand (maximum visibility) amongst those waiting to play and their friends, I find them to be an enthusiastic, good-humoured and appreciative audience. The first goal by each side always gets a round of applause. Applause is something I never ask for, except through the tone of my voice.
This will be their first chukka ever for many of the players, so speeds are fairly slow. Nevertheless, to me there is no such thing as a dull chukka in polo and I prove that to the spectators. Even though the arena is large (100m x 50m) there is no real need for field-glasses, although I might use them if there’s a tight melee in the far goalmouth. My aim is to mention all the players by name at least once and as soon as possible, mainly for the spectators but also to remind myself who’s who.
During play, it’s almost as if I were the ball, so those who hit me get mentioned most! Where possible I try to identify who scores each goal. In arena polo, a goal is scored by bouncing it against a 10ft x 12ft wall area; the game is then restarted by the defending team hitting the ball away from their goal.
The first chukka ends, team B leave the arena as I go down to make notes about team C, then back to the stand – again there’s a clear winner in the second chukka. No need now to desert my vantage point before the final chukka (unless I can spot changes) as team B returns to battle it out with team C. The overall result is a draw and everyone feels a sense of achievement.
And so to an excellent lunch in the in the marquee, mine is quick as I’m now rehearsing the players’ names for the exhibition match due to start at 2pm. So it’s off to the pony lines to complete player identifications, chat to the captains to confirm who’s playing in which numbered shirt and finally check that I have the correct names of the two mounted umpires and the referee (also called the third man) who will either be in the stand or over by the scoreboard.
This match is being played on their No 1 ground (full-size is 300yds x 200yds, with goalposts 8yds apart) so again I test the PA and the commentary starts with the usual preliminaries plus a reminder that ends are changed after each goal is scored and the game is then restarted from the centre of the field.
As this is an exhibition match for our guests, I provide a second microphone so that the professionals who were coaching them in the morning can point out particular points during play. Two exciting chukkas later we reach the long interval at half-time and I encourage them to tread in the divots by reminding them of the film “Pretty Woman”, then lead the way onto the field.
After the final bell has sounded, I reluctantly duck the prize-giving and race back to the car. The hands-free mobile gets switched on and I catch up on my messages while heading for the M25 on the way to my next assignment. I also send a message ahead that I’m both “on the road” and on time.
Just over half-an-hour later the mobile gets switched to silent mode as I pass through the gates of Epsom Polo Club where I’m due to commentate on the main match of the afternoon against a visiting team. This is on their Great Meadow ground and I check in with the polo manager, confirm who’s umpiring, quickly test the PA equipment and then head for the pony lines to identify the players.
My tasks are then much as before, the pace is furious yet good-humoured, the goals come fast; I savour every chukka and succeed in transmitting that feeling to the spectators.
After the final bell I can finally relax, be at the prize-giving and then enjoy a quiet drink and chat with the players, officials and spectators at the party on the balcony in the late afternoon sunshine.
So ends another enjoyable day - during which I’ve also met a player who’ll be starting his own polo club next season and he’ll be needing a commentator ...
© 2006, Roy Law.
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Contributor's Note
"There is no such thing as a dull chukka in polo"; it doesn't have to be a high-goal match with professional or celebrity players. My job as a professional commentator is to make sure that the spectators enjoy the spectacle as much as I do.
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