Recent Blog Posts

Blog Post Archives

Subscribe to Blog via Email (Version 1: Wordpress)

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog via Wordpress and receive notifications of new posts by email. You will receive emails every time—and as soon as—a new post is made.

Subscribe to Blog via Email (Version 2: Feedburner)

Use this link to subscribe to this blog via Feedburner and receive notifications of new posts by email:

You will receive just one email at the end of the day (around 11:00 PM Eastern Time) summarizing all the posts made during the day.

You may also use the “By Email” link in the upper right hand corner of the page.

Polo—a game of princes played here in Maryland

Forget about movie stars! One of Britain’s most popular heroes in the 1950s—for boys, at least—was Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. It was not so much that he appeared on postage stamps alongside the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth, no less important to us, he was a highly decorated war hero.

Prince Philip was on active service as an officer in the Royal Navy from the outset of the Second World until the Japanese surrender at Tokyo Bay—an epoch-making event at which he was present.

He graduated top of his class from Dartmouth, the Royal Naval Academy, and by the war’s end had been Mentioned in Dispatches for Gallantry, and awarded the French Croix de Guerre with Palm and the Greek War Cross of Valor.

During the invasion of Sicily in July, 1943, as first lieutenant and second in command of the destroyer HMS Wallace, he is credited with saving his ship from a night bomber attack. The 21-year-old Philip distracted the bombers from their target by launching a raft with smoke floats.

His quick thinking—echoes of the great Admiral Horatio Nelson—enabled the ship to slip away unharmed. In 1952, following Queen Elizabeth’s accession to the throne, he left active naval service as a lieutenant commander in command of the frigate HMS Magpie.

All this is a rather long-winded way of explaining why one of our favorite boyhood summer sports was “bicycle polo.” Prince Philip, you see, was an enthusiastic horseman and an avid polo player.

Naturally enough, we were keen to emulate our hero—especially if a risky sport, inviting grievous bodily harm, was involved. There was, however, no way our weekly allowances would run to a string of polo ponies, thus a trusty two-wheeled steed had to suffice.

But not just any two-wheeler would do. It had to be a bicycle with rear brakes operated by peddling backwards. The right hand, you see, was fully occupied wielding a croquet mallet (a cricket bats would serve in a pinch) and the left hand was similarly occupied with steering.

(Actually, it was also considered a good idea to disconnect the front brakes. Inadvertent application of the front brakes was virtually guaranteed to send the rider sailing over the handle bars.)

Other than back-peddling bicycles and croquet mallets, the only other essential was a cricket or field hockey ball. (Baseballs were probably used by American bicycle polo enthusiasts.) Tennis balls were hopeless because they bounced too much.

(I guess most mothers today would insist that a decent first aid kit (not to mention bicycle helmets) would be essential. After all, it was a rare game that did not yield a crop of grazes, bruises, lacerations and even the occasional bash on the head.

Mothers were generally not so finnicky in the 1950s. So in those days, a grubby pocket handkerchief sufficed as first aid for most injuries.)

Rules, of course, were somewhat sketchy. None of us had the faintest idea of the rules of horse polo. So we tended to make the rules up as we went along. Games were, thus, frequently punctuated by debates about “good form” and “bad form.”

Basically it was considered “bad form” to deliberately whack another player with one’s croquet mallet and to deliberately stick ones foot between the spokes of an opponent’s bicycle wheel. Punching, biting, gouging and scratching were also consider bad form.

As none of us owed a watch, there was no fixed time for quarters, halves or matches. Games paused when most players were out of breath and formally ended when everyone was tired, hungry, thirsty or (on rare occasions) bored.

Sad to relate, children don’t seem to play bicycle polo today. May be back-peddling brakes have gone out of fashion. Perhaps croquet mallets are not as robust as they were years ago. More likely, moms today consider the game’s a tad too dangerous.

However, if you’d like to see the real thing, you might consider taking a trip to the Maryland Polo Club grounds at 3663 Fallston Road, Jarrettsville, at 2.00 PM on Sunday, July 7th to watch the Saint George’s Polo Cup.

It is polo at its best—an exciting annual event sponsored by the Saint George’s Society of Baltimore. Why not make a very special; day of it? The society is offering summer cocktails and a luncheon buffet for the subscription of a modest $30. For details, call Scott Watkins at (443) 253-4272 or the parish office. GPH✠

Comments are closed.