zenexistence

I've broken a toe, a thumb, had a couple of concussions and experienced more abrasions, lacerations and contusions than I can count.
But lets be honest, I can't count very high -- so we'll just call it eleventy.
And this is all in my pursuit of the perfect sport.

Bike polo.

Hunh?

Yep, polo on bicycles. Not horses. Mallets made out of ski poles with high-density plastic used as the mallet heads. And a balls. Ow. I mean a ball, singular. So you take the bikes, the mallets, three indevegetables on each side and go at it.
Major rules are simple:
- Only "like" contact, meaning bike-to-bike contact, mallet-to-mallet contact or body-to-body contact. No hitting a person with a mallet or throwing your bike at opposing players or such.
- Your feet can't touch the ground. If you do touch the ground, or "dab out" as it's called, you have to make a circuit of the court, tapping out at a predesignated spot. This effectively gives the other team a momentary "power play" as the dabber can't participate.
- You can only score by hitting the ball in with the top or "head" of the mallet. Anything else is called a "shuffle" and doesn't count.

Here's lets watch a bit, shall we?


That game took place at The Pit in NYC. I used it because (a) it shows my old roommate Amanda (blonde hair, helmet, gold mountain bike), whom I dearly love, in amongst the mix and (b) it's a cool spot to play.

It's stupid fun and I've met people all over the country as a result of playing. There' a type of instantaneous bond amongst polo players after you've played together. I can't explain it and I'm not trying to wax all hippy on you here so maybe beer, bruises and camaraderie is a good (if cro magnon) way to define it.

By the way, I'm totally sitting in my favorite German watering hole, drinking a Paulaner and typing this.
Hmm, now that I think about it, we COULD always use sponsors for polo and what better than a German restaurant/pub? "Hello Fritz, don't mind the blood and the muck, I'll just take a weinerschnitzel and a Weihenstephan, por favor!"
See? I can be totally multicultural when the need arises.

As I mentioned in a prior blog, I'm going to be traveling a fair amount in the next few months and what areas I decide upon will be dependent as to whether there is a decent polo scene nearby.
"But you're limiting yourself, Portnoy!" I can hear you yelling.
Please don't yell.
Actually, you'd probably be surprised that polo's being played right around you, you just never noticed.

Okay, my fraulein beer server (who is totally dressed in the Octoberfest leiderhosen getup, I shit you not) is giving me the stink-eye for nursing this beer, so I'm getting another one and then heading to polo.

Wish me luck.