Who knew there was full-on, come-from-behind shoulder, hip and knee bulldozing in the genteel, jet-setting sport of polo?
You’ve seen it gracing the pages of Hello! Magazine and on the silver screen as a symbol of the aristocracy but you’ve likely never given much thought to the game itself or the people that play it.
After many years of faking it, I can now finally wear a Polo shirt without feeling dishonest.
Yes, despite having to sign a waiver warning about injury, dismemberment and the possibility of death, I braved the potential consequences Thursday and gave polo a try.