Several members of my family decided we needed to go see a polo match tonight.
Yeah... me, at a polo match. It went well. ZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The view was mostly this:
...and if you think it just looks like a far-away bunch of horse's asses, well... you'd be right.
It's kind of a scary sport when a group of riders DOES race right by you. We (being new at this) sat right up next to the piece of edging that demarcates the field of play but almost immediately we realized "Wait... this is a good way to get trampled" and moved back 10 feet. And do they have halves, or quarters, like a self-respecting manly sport where the guys wear shorts or at least tight pants*? No. They have chukkers. A chukker is 7 1/2 minutes long. Who made this up?
Anyway, I prefer to hide behind that thick plexiglass shield at a hockey rink. Those balls are hard. (My son stole one.... just kidding, they let kids have the used balls... he dropped it in the car on the way home and when I heard the thunk I said "what was that?" and he said "just my balls Mom"....I am warped....)
I did make a good tailgate picnic. Grapes, cheese & crackers, sweet and sour chicken tenders, pasta salad with crabmeat and baby spinach, strawberries with chocolate, ... can't remember what else. And - newsflash - my kids ate it. Will wonders ever cease??
The players call out to each other in some variation of Spanish. They are apparently mostly from Spain and Portugal (at least these particular teams were) and some guy sitting near us said they speach Portunese and I died laughing. I think he got mad at me.
*I couldn't tell... the saddles, you know. But I don't speak Portunese, so does it matter?
1 comment:
Next time at a hockey rink, don't hide behind the thick plexiglas - live dangerously and sit above it.
That's half the thrill of a live game, the chance of getting hit by a puck.
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