club under Nick and the honorary grounds manager Ba Pataudi. They said it was 3 hours on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, 4 hours on Sunday. (I didn’t see him from 6am to 9pm, six days a week for the next two seasons, unless I came to Ham to fetch him and the car.)
James was proud to have turned the polo office from a loss-making enterprise into one that made money, but if you want to read what the job description is, I can refer you to his 2003 opus, The Polo Manager’s Bible which can be found in the Polo Office. I will not forget putting on the Marigolds and cleaning out the office, the ash trays and the loos with Annie Colquhoun-Denvers, or selling drinks from a cooler when Hunt-Kendall had a conflict on a chukka-day. I recall Pete McCormack organizing a 20-goal match in 2005 to celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Nicholas’ Chairmanship which included the legendary Adolfo Cambiaso and Lolo Castagnola playing on his Stagshead Team. Pete also had a knack of finding distant pitches to play the preliminary matches in our 12-goal tournament, so that we could enjoy the final matches on Sunday on our main pitch.
One very dry summer, 2003 I think, we hoped the umpire could see the ball, because the dust prevented us from seeing either the umpire or the players. In desperation we turned to Mack and the Sikh team who came in on Mondays to tread the ground and scatter grass seed and sand. “Mack can you do a rain dance?” “No, sorry, wrong kind of Indian,” he said shaking his head. And, of course, when we finally got permission abstract from the Thames, it came on line just as the dry and dusty season ended. It worked very well from 11:00 am till noon, and then the heavens opened up.
One very muddy Sunday, I talked Adolfo Cambiaso and Lolo Castagola into treading in after a match, explaining that if they did so, no one else in the entire clubhouse would be able to sit on their hands. The ten- goalers behaved like gents: they strode onto the field and even the polo players in the crowd followed.
Ham Polo Club (now HPC the London Polo Club) has been part of my life for quite some time. Other people go to church on Sundays, we go to polo. I’ve made some good friends here (shush, John Rendall), and seen polo dynasties emerge. Three generations of Venturas, Quentin and his sons Benjie and Hugo, and four generations of Healys. Lucy Dowie emerged from the stables to play polo, and now we have lots of young women players.
It’s a far cry from the humble club Billy Walsh re- started seventy three years ago, but it is still a place for families, children and dogs. Rock stars and royals have played at Ham, and it is a place to have a beer or a glass of champagne and see new players develop over the seasons, as well as watch keen young men with pointed elbows doing naughty ride-offs. Umpires are you blind?
The successful expansion of the club and the development of its facilities have been thanks to the unstinting efforts of many players, grooms and volunteers, but Annie and Nicholas Colquhoun- Denvers deserve most of the credit. Nick, who will be stepping down this year, promises that he and Annie will still be at Ham watching polo, and willing to provide advice, if we ask nicely.
HPC • THE LONDON POLO CLUB
47
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