The Polo Revolution
Greetings from Durango. Truth be told, I'm actually sitting in front of my girlfriend’s laptop at our place in Utah, sipping a little Yerba Mate and listening to Burning Spear as I reminisce about my two week training block in Durango, Colorado. Looking back on the long hours spent on the road bike, downhill bike, moto, and snowmobile; the skirmishes on the bicycle polo field are proving to be the most blogworthy. Getting shelled out of my skin by the sadistic, lactic acid-craving road pros on the Tuesday night blow-your-heart-up ride was a close second. Whoa, my quads are twitching at the thought; better get back to polo before I cramp up. Last week in Durango, the Escalante Middle School soccer field was the site of one of the most epic bike polo games in the history of the sport.
Chad Cheeney - a kingpin of the underground Durango polo scene charges the fringe on a drier day.
It blows me away how much the sport has progressed in the two years since I last called Durango home. It wasn't too long ago that we were hacking away at the whiffle ball every Sunday afternoon with our 1" wooden dowelled hickory mallet heads that my dad spun on his lathe. Back then a custom mallet was your grip of choice out of Chad's used grip bin with maybe a sticker or two. Most of us dropped the saddles on our cross country rigs and shot at makeshift orange cone goals on a randomly predetermined field around town. The only rule was that once a player dabs (loses his balance and puts a foot down, or crashes) he/she has to immediately clear the area and can't touch the ball until completing one full pedal revolution. Needless to say the game was hilarious. A low-speed, uncoordinated swarm of bikers chasing a little white ball around, vaguely resembling kindergarten recess soccer.
The rules are still the same, and it’s still an absolute riot to play and watch, but an obvious evolution has taken place on the grassy fields of Durango. The portable orange cones of yesteryear have been replaced with full sized soccer goals. No longer is the game spent chasing old whiffle balls. The players now choose from an assortment of different sized mini soccer balls, depending on the conditions. Most of the regulars now play on designated polo bikes and show up with modified golf bags housing a quiver of high-tech mallets. The "old school" wooden mallet is all but forgotten, having transformed into a revolutionary cut down aluminum/PVC combo, resulting in a much lighter and responsive weapon. As a matter of fact, a carbon fiber/titanium mallet has just been unveiled in the underground polo circles of the four corners area.
Regardless of these technical advancements, the game play is by far the most impressive part of the polo revolution. The game is much quicker these days. Complex tactical plays of picks and screens set up single shots, and defenses quickly fall back into formation when the play is botched. Players’ strengths and weaknesses are known by all and heavily capitalized on.
When I was in Durango, we had three teams of five highly skilled polo hessians rotating through pick up games. Win by two, winner stays on. Mick Hannah, the lovely Emily (my better half), and I were the honorary guest players. Just as the game predictably escalated, the ominous skies opened up on us. Before I knew what was happening we were charging plays through a torrential hail storm. The funny thing was, no one cared. Nary a word of slowing down was spoken as rain shells started to sprout up. The field quickly turned to grease which only intensified matters. Luckily, I was running my secret clipped spike tires which rail wet or dry grass like no other. To make a long story short, I think the final game ended 17-15, well after dark. A good five hours after the initial midfield charge, we were a laughing, mud-caked, steaming group of polo fanatics with more grass plastered to our bodies than hair. Viva Durango!
And, come to find out, a few days after our game, Mick podiumed at the first World Cup downhill in Vigo, Spain. Way to go Yahoo Serious! (Mick’s an Aussie from the bush) Carmichael Training Systems take note; those Durangotangs might be on to something. Polo sure beats the pants off a boring road ride to spin the legs out. Tune in next week as I’m heading to the Northeast for the US Open and the best dirt jumps on the planet. Keep it Clean.
-chris
Chad Cheeney - a kingpin of the underground Durango polo scene charges the fringe on a drier day.
It blows me away how much the sport has progressed in the two years since I last called Durango home. It wasn't too long ago that we were hacking away at the whiffle ball every Sunday afternoon with our 1" wooden dowelled hickory mallet heads that my dad spun on his lathe. Back then a custom mallet was your grip of choice out of Chad's used grip bin with maybe a sticker or two. Most of us dropped the saddles on our cross country rigs and shot at makeshift orange cone goals on a randomly predetermined field around town. The only rule was that once a player dabs (loses his balance and puts a foot down, or crashes) he/she has to immediately clear the area and can't touch the ball until completing one full pedal revolution. Needless to say the game was hilarious. A low-speed, uncoordinated swarm of bikers chasing a little white ball around, vaguely resembling kindergarten recess soccer.
The rules are still the same, and it’s still an absolute riot to play and watch, but an obvious evolution has taken place on the grassy fields of Durango. The portable orange cones of yesteryear have been replaced with full sized soccer goals. No longer is the game spent chasing old whiffle balls. The players now choose from an assortment of different sized mini soccer balls, depending on the conditions. Most of the regulars now play on designated polo bikes and show up with modified golf bags housing a quiver of high-tech mallets. The "old school" wooden mallet is all but forgotten, having transformed into a revolutionary cut down aluminum/PVC combo, resulting in a much lighter and responsive weapon. As a matter of fact, a carbon fiber/titanium mallet has just been unveiled in the underground polo circles of the four corners area.
Regardless of these technical advancements, the game play is by far the most impressive part of the polo revolution. The game is much quicker these days. Complex tactical plays of picks and screens set up single shots, and defenses quickly fall back into formation when the play is botched. Players’ strengths and weaknesses are known by all and heavily capitalized on.
When I was in Durango, we had three teams of five highly skilled polo hessians rotating through pick up games. Win by two, winner stays on. Mick Hannah, the lovely Emily (my better half), and I were the honorary guest players. Just as the game predictably escalated, the ominous skies opened up on us. Before I knew what was happening we were charging plays through a torrential hail storm. The funny thing was, no one cared. Nary a word of slowing down was spoken as rain shells started to sprout up. The field quickly turned to grease which only intensified matters. Luckily, I was running my secret clipped spike tires which rail wet or dry grass like no other. To make a long story short, I think the final game ended 17-15, well after dark. A good five hours after the initial midfield charge, we were a laughing, mud-caked, steaming group of polo fanatics with more grass plastered to our bodies than hair. Viva Durango!
And, come to find out, a few days after our game, Mick podiumed at the first World Cup downhill in Vigo, Spain. Way to go Yahoo Serious! (Mick’s an Aussie from the bush) Carmichael Training Systems take note; those Durangotangs might be on to something. Polo sure beats the pants off a boring road ride to spin the legs out. Tune in next week as I’m heading to the Northeast for the US Open and the best dirt jumps on the planet. Keep it Clean.
-chris
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