A Polo Match

The area we visit in Pennsylvania has a lot of dairy farms, therefore we see a lot of cows grazing in the meadows. We see horses pulling buggies, but not many in the fields, so I was surprised to see a sign posted along the road stating, “Polo Match Today 2:30 pm” with an arrow showing which direction to go. I said out loud, “I want to go to that”. When I told the others, we all (4 of us) decided to go to watch the polo match that Saturday afternoon. 

Daryl (Gary’s brother) and Gary knew about “Forney Field” where the polo match was to be held. The land was donated by their great uncle…their grandmother’s brother, Benjamin Forney. Since the game of polo is usually played on Sunday afternoons, Ben Forney was considered a “black sheep” of the family for promoting the sport (Sunday is a day of rest).  It was fun to learn a little about Ben and know the polo club he started back in the 1930’s is still going strong today.

The general admission area.

We arrived at “Forney Field” and my brother-in-law mentioned we were family so they let us in for free. We sat in the general admission section, at a front row table under a tent. It was great viewing.

Ben Forney’s great-nephews.

The announcer was nearby so Gary and Daryl went to talk with him and he was interested to hear a bit more about Ben Forney. Then he announced to the audience that the nephews of Ben Forney were in the audience. It was quite comical, but we had a lot of fun.

There are four players on each team.

We learned a little about the game too, from the announcer who was an ex-polo player and enthusiastic promoter of the sport. He filled us in on a few details of the game…like the time periods are called “chukkers” and the team’s goal post changes after each score, to allow fairness with wind and sun distractions.

Two horses, “neck & neck”.

We were watching a tournament game. All the payers in this game were women, ages 13-47. The players are amazing to watch…galloping with the horses while reins in one hand and a long handled, mallet in the other, trying to hit the “ball”. There are four players on each team.

We had been to a polo match in Minnesota, years and years ago, and I have always wanted to go watch the majestic game again. Never did I think I would go to one in Pennsylvania, a couple miles from my brother-in-law’s house.

The horses after the game, behind the scenes.