What does one wear to a polo match? I assume this is everyone’s question, as it was mine, when faced with the possibility of attending an actual polo match. Not water polo, not a Polo outlet store, but actual polo. With horses.
The answer, as to what to wear, is a solid, “whatever you want.” Which is somehow disappointing considering my only real relationship to the game is a shirt.
If you want to learn about, or understand the game of polo, you will get more from Google than you will from attending. I say this because when I went to the game there were no bleachers, no signs, and the only people I saw were doing other things (playing soccer, jogging, talking about kombucha). It wasn’t till a person on horse game trotting out from the trees onto the field that the soccer players started packing up and I figured I was in the right spot.
The game itself is fun enough. There are fast breaks where someone whacks the ball down the field and a couple riders gallop full speed in chase, but for the most part the game is played at medium speed as horses don’t stop on a dime and sometimes they get all clumped together. It didn’t look like ramming, or any sort of equine body checking is supposed to be a thing. They do their actual thing for 6 periods of play and each period of play lasts 7 minutes and 30 seconds. I have no idea why they get those 30 seconds. a period of play is called a chukker.
Google tells me the word chukker is derived from a Hindi word meaning “circle” or “turn”. As far as I could tell most of the players in the game I watched were derived from Argentina. I came to this conclusion by moving over to the other side of the field, the one with a bunch of trees obscuring a view of horse trailers and support staff, where people were wearing Argentina themed sweatshirts, speaking Spanish. I also heard the announcer repeatedly saying, “and (players name here), hailing from Argentina…” over the loudspeaker. I appreciate the fact that they had a loudspeaker and announcer, despite having no spectators.
That isn’t entirely true. I was there. Maybe ten or twenty others stopped to watch, and on that trailer sideline people who looked like they owned the trucks pulling the horse trailers were all drinking white wine. What I mean when I say they looked like they owned the trucks, I mean they knew the names of the people brushing the horses but were caring for the dogs rather than the ponies.
No one bothered me, or appeared bothered by me, which is fine. I didn’t ask anyone to explain anything, or ask them anything other than if it was okay for me to stand over by the fence. A guy who had a tiny little dog inside his coat chukkled and said, “It is for anyone. Go on ahead.”
In the end I experienced it in much the same way I experience a Polo Outlet store: I couldn’t really afford anything I saw but didn’t mind looking.