What does it take to become a polo master?
With little experience of horse-riding, Charlotte Lytton takes a lesson with a champion to see if she has what it takes
It is best known as the pastime of the privileged; an event that calls for the upper crust trifecta of glossy manes, royals and free-flowing fizz. But now one man is on a mission to prove that polo is no longer the preserve of the elite. Enter Nic Roldan, US team captain, part-time model and, on a cloudy morning in West Sussex, my coach.
“There’s a misconception that polo can only be played by royalty or the wealthiest people,” says 34-year-old Roldan, who became the youngest winner of the US Open Polo Championship aged 15.
The Hurlingham Polo Association, its governing body, has more than 2,600 members across 70 UK clubs, but Roldan hopes this number will grow. To that end, today sees his inaugural UK Sunset Polo charity fundraiser for hospice Chestnut Tree House and animal welfare charity Brooke – an event that has attracted well-known faces from the sport, including Olympic gold medallist Nick Skelton CBE.
At the Beaufort Polo Club in Gloucestershire, a one-to-one lesson will set you back £80-£100. Polo clubs are the place to start if you are planning to get into the swing of things, Roldan advises, but any horse-riding school should set you up – even if it’s just moseying around a paddock.
“Horsemanship is key,” says Roldan. This proves my first sticking point. The last time I got in the saddle was two years ago on holiday in Cuba, and I was thrown off. My only other attempt to take the reins was pony-trekking at school. It is fair to say, then, that the world of equestrianism and I have not exactly bonded. Yet I am confident that my fortunes are set to change. I will join the ranks of polo’s well-heeled fans, who have ranged from the Hollywood glamour of Clark Gable to Katie Price. At the very least, I’ll find fodder for a Jilly Cooper-esque novel about my mount. I arrive at Cowdray House, billed as the home of British polo. Ahead of our session, a breakfast of pastries, jam and cream is laid out. At least one aspect of the sport comes naturally to me.
Can I really become a polo master? Will the memories of being tossed from my Cuban colt vanish once I’m out in the field with the wind flowing through my hair? Can I expect a call from Prince Harry inviting me to join him at Ascot next year?
The answers, you may be unsurprised to hear, are no, sort of, and no chance. My equine companion and I begin by padding slowly across part of the 16,500-acre Cowdray Park estate, which I am told I must do with only one hand on the reins in order to free up my other for wielding the mallet. Then, the next challenge: actually hitting the ball with the stick. More than that: hitting the ball with the stick while sitting on a giant horse you are holding onto with only your left hand. And leaning off the horse to do so – while a clutch of breeders, a polo champion-come-model and photographer, look on.
But under Roldan’s patient tutelage, I soon find myself able to hit said ball while on said horse, which is walking at a pace of approximately 0.1 miles per hour. I am feeling quietly smug until Roldan reminds me that this is the easy part. The somewhat greater challenge comes when the thing is tearing across the pitch at the velocity of a car on a country lane, with sticks flying, and tens of equine limbs enmeshed in the action.
“You have to have balls, because we’re playing at high speeds,” Roldan says after our game of “walking polo” ends. “And you have to have very good hand-eye co-ordination.”
It is very practical – if pointed – guidance. And perhaps, with enough horse acumen, anyone could become a polo master. But as for looking chic while doing so? That’s probably best left to the experts.