Memory Lane Friday - A Game

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Game."

The first game that came to mind was the first polo game my team and I won back at Culver Girls Academy, Culver, IN.

Girls were able to join the JV and Varsity Jumping Teams (the hunter/jumper team), and had their own mounted drill team, the Equestriennes. They were also a part of the Rough Riders team - the mounted vaulting team. But when I started school there as a freshman, there was no girls' polo team - no opportunity for us to play polo.

That changed, however, my senior year. I'm not sure exactly what changed the leadership's mind (was it because we nagged pleaded all the time?), or when their minds changed. But somehow, something changed their minds.

Fall semester of my senior year, I was in an Advanced Equitation class (a two-period mounted horsemanship class to better our riding skills, meeting twice a week), and the instructor was Capt. Chris Kerner. He was also the Varsity Jumping coach at some point during my time on that team, as well as the Varsity Polo coach. Both the Jumping and Polo teams had practice after the day's academic (and specialized classes like phys ed or equitation) classes were over.

Anyway, since he was one of the polo coaches, and since I was the only girl in this particular equitation class full of polo players (mostly Varsity, a few JV), he decided to spend a few classes playing polo. Or in my case, teaching me the basics.

I remember being my usual relaxed self, when I walked into the office to check on which horse I was riding. I was expecting Black Lightning or maybe Black Tux or maybe another of the Varsity Jumping horses. See, I was pretty comfortable with all the flat work or jumping we did, because that's what I did all the time. I was good at it.

But no.

He gives me a horse number (each horse had a numbered stall, with that number on a corresponding saddle, bridle, and set of brushes assigned to that horse only). I became nervous, right there on the spot.

It was a number I knew to be in the polo pony section. Sure enough, when I asked, "Is this ____?" (insert whatever the polo pony's name was), I found out it was a polo pony. I think it may have been the pony named Finally, whom many mistakenly called Finale. I was surprised and my nervousness came from the fact that I knew NOTHING about polo.

Sure, I was a strong rider, but polo? Now roles would be reversed. I would no longer be the strongest rider. I'd be a competent rider, doing a new task poorly in front of a bunch of Varsity Polo players who were very good at the task at hand.

He said that we'd be able to play polo, and I asked, "Even me?!" Yep.

So off I went to quickly groom and tack up my pony.

And then we all mounted up in the arena. Oh, before heading out, Capt. Kerner had gotten a polo helmet for me and put my initials on the back of it.

I mounted up, and he had me warm up a bit, just trotting a bit around the ring. When he called me in, he had a mallet in hand for me. He showed me how to put the strap around my hand and the basic swings. He had me practice hitting a ball from a walk. I felt a bit like a dunce. But he had me practice on my own, using one half of the arena, while he had the guys scrimmage using the other half.

At some point, he told me the basic rules, and at one point, when explaining the finer points of defending the goal against a penalty shot, said, "Just don't block the ball with your face!"

During another equitation class, he actually let me scrimmage with the guys. Made me SO nervous, but it was good, because it helped me learn, and I was playing with players much better than I, so it pushed me to learn on the go.

Well, for the rest of the semester, we'd occasionally have an equitation class dedicated to polo, but we went back to our "regularly scheduled programming" - hunter/jumper lessons, trail rides, swimming the horses in the lake, an occasional ride into town to get ice cream at Dairy Queen (half the class would dismount and go in to get ice cream and bring it out for everyone while the other half would hold their horses, literally, as they went inside).

And then at some point, I learned that there would be a GIRLS' polo team the upcoming spring!! I was TOO excited. I learned that we needed at least 6 girls to participate. One of my good friends, Debra, was excited about it, too. Another friend, Katy, was also interested. Pretty soon we had exactly 6 riders, and one team manager.

I learned that it would be considered a "club" sport, not a "Varsity/JV" sport . . . though we were allowed to get the polo emblem on our varsity sweaters, if we already lettered in a Varsity sport - which I had (Varsity Jumping). Or something like that. All I know is that this first season, it was a "club" sport, but I had the polo mallet on my Varsity Sweater along with the jumping horse.

But the only problem for me was that the season would run concurrently with the Varsity Jumping season. I absolutely loved being on the jumping team. It was something I was good at, and it was just so fun. But I'd also wanted a girls' polo team for so long.

I picked polo.

(I did, however take a break for a couple weeks to ride with the Varsity Jumpers because I'd wanted to ride in the Culver Invitational Horse Show that spring. Neither the CGA Polo coach nor the Varsity Jumping coach had any problems whatsoever with this arrangement).

Our coach, by the way, was an alumna - Becky Ringley (Ms. Ringley, as we called her). She knew a lot about polo and was excited to teach us.

She made sure we knew the rules inside and out. She had us practice in the polo cages (like batting cages but with a horse frame, where we could sit on a "horse" and practice our swings). She had us practice without mallets, so our technique would be strong. She was tough on us. I remember that distinctly.

But I grew to appreciate the sport immensely. Sure, I'd enjoyed watching it. And I had learned a lot from Capt. Kerner. But Ms. Ringley was so darned hard on us . . . while practice wasn't necessarily "fun" at the time, we learned a LOT.

Unfortunately, since we were so new to the sport, and maybe because our team was in its infancy, our win-loss record was less than stellar. I think it ended up being 6 L - 2 W. Ouch!

But those two games we won (right in the middle of the season, I think)? . . . oh, man, were they fun!

The first one was Friday evening. It was thrilling. I don't remember who we played or any details other than the fact that I played that whole game that night. And I had 1 goal and 1 assist, if I remember correctly. I still get all butterflies-in-my-stomach excited thinking I had a goal and an assist in a winning game!!

I think the line-up was Katy playing #1 (offense), I was #2 (offense/defense), and either Ursula or Debra was #3 (defense).

It was sweet, this win.We were FLYING after the game, as we took care of the ponies and put all the equipment away.

There happened to be some dance going on that evening and we all went after we ran back to shower quickly and put on appropriate girly clothes. The dance happened to be outside. There was a bonfire and a DJ.

And I remember hearing "The Look" by Roxette and Nicki (another teammate) said, "Oooh, this should be our song! This is a perfect song for the team!"

I also remember hearing "Wild Wild West" by Escape Club, but only because Debra liked it. She had that typical big '80s teased hair being held in place by copious amounts of Aqua Net hair spray . . . she said the lyrics "I love her eyes and her wild, wild hair" were about her!

So every time I hear one of those two songs on XM's '80s station, I remember being SO excited at actually winning a polo game.

CGA Polo, Spring 1989

I'm standing; I'm the second from the right in the light polo shirt.
I had to scan this photo from my senior yearbook, so the quality is not great. 

Click on the button for the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday entries:

Check back next week when the topic is "A Tourist Trap."

Memory Lane Friday (a day late) - A Sporting Event

Okay, I'll play along; I like the idea of Memory Lane Fridays.

I was thinking about what I'd post yesterday and then the next thing I know, it's mid-day Saturday! Oops! Next week, I'll be sure to post (or try to post) on Friday evening after Livie has gone to bed. ;)

Let's see. There are a couple of sporting events that I was thinking about writing about, but I think I've narrowed it down to the one really FUN memory.

Back in the day, I used to be an avid equestrian. I really didn't care much about anything but riding . . . except for maybe photography, art class, and what book we'd get to read next in English. (I was . . . and still am . . . a big ol' bookworm.)

Anyway, while I attended Culver Girls Academy (CGA), I was on the Varsity Jumping Team. We usually had a blast going to various shows in the area. And we'd typically have the Culver Invitational Horse Show (a home show for us) in the spring, in the big outdoor arenas across the street from the riding hall. Riders from around the area (Indiana, Michigan, maybe Illinois, and perhaps other places) would participate in this show. And a horse show judge would come in to fulfill judging duties over the weekend for this show.

It's actually this show that I'm thinking about and fondly remembering - the May 1989 show during my senior year at Culver: just about a month before graduating. I'd actually been on the CGA Varsity Polo team this particular semester. But since I'd been on the Varsity Jumping Team since the spring semester of my freshman year, I had a tremendous urge to ride in Culver's Invitational Horse Show one final year. This would probably be my last big show before heading off to college and not being able to ride regularly, if at all.

So about a month or so before the show, I spoke to my polo coach and told her I was thinking about riding in the show; would she have a problem if I rode with the Varsity Jumpers for that week prior to the show, and then compete that whole weekend? I was so excited when she said go for it.

Meanwhile, I was still going to polo practice, having a blast picking up a new sport. After we tacked up our ponies and headed to the arena, I'd mount up and warm up without stirrups, picking up my stirrups only when we started scrimmaging.

See, I was riding as much as I could without stirrups to get my legs super tight, like steel. I knew I'd be riding in Adult Equitation classes for the first time, and I wanted to be ready.

Oh, a bit of an explanation for those of you who are not familiar with equestrian terms: riders in equitation classes are judged on their form (correct posture while mounted), and how they handle their horses (the more invisible your cues to your horse are, the better). Plus, since I'd already turned 18 in November of 1988, I was no longer able to ride in the Junior equitation classes - it would be Adult classes from here on out.

And of course, I was still practicing with the CGA Equestriennes (the CGA Honor Organization team that performs musical rides). These practices occurred after jumping and polo practices were over. So when I rode with the Equestriennes, I'd ride the whole practice without stirrups.

So after my "show preparation week" with the Varsity Jumpers, I was ready. And I was excited. I really enjoyed showing.

After a full morning of showing, it was now late Saturday afternoon - the first day of showing would be over within a few hours.

Finally, it was time to head into the ring for my first ever Adult Equitation class. I was riding Sir Ebon, a kinda fuzzy horse who was so incredibly smooth to ride - he had gaits that truly felt like you were on a rocking horse. Nice and smoooooth.

Once all the riders were in the ring, the judge had us go through our paces, including taking our feet out of the stirrups and crossing them over the the fronts of our saddle (so they wouldn't bang against our horses' sides each time they took a stride, and probably to ensure no one's feet "accidentally" went back into them prematurely). Since I'd been practicing so much without stirrups, this was a piece of cake. I could've gone on and on without stirrups, even smiling at the judge as Sir Ebon and I trotted past her, neither of us tired at all.

One of my riding instructors (Lt Michael Stahl) was standing by the ring, watching. At one point, he said, "You're doing well. Keep it up and you should place high!"

But, since riding without stirrups does take a lot of practice and is a lot of work to maintain, there is only so long a judge can have a class ride without them. So we eventually got our stirrups back.

Finally, after the judge had seen all she needed to see, all the riders lined up in the center of the ring, with our numbers (on our backs) facing the judge.

It seemed like we were there forever. Finally, after what felt like HOURS (but was only a few minutes - 5-10, tops), the announcer stated over the loudspeaker that we had the results. A lot of times, horse shows will have ribbons for 1st through 6th places. I've occasionally seen bigger shows having ribbons through 8th place. This show had ribbons through 6th. And a person (one of the horse show volunteers) with all six ribbons was standing near the middle of the ring, ready to pass them out to the riders who earned them.

And then the announcer started with 6th place, stating something to the effect of "In 6th place, number __(whatever it was)" and then saying that rider's name. That rider walked up to the volunteer, received his or her ribbon, and exited the ring.

Then 5th place . . . I think I was holding my breath, waiting to hear my number. When the number was announced . . . it was somebody else's.

Waiting for the 4th place announcement . . . more breath holding, and more disappointment that it wasn't me.

When it came to the 3rd place announcement, I was thinking that it was altogether possible that I was in the top three, especially since Lt. Stahl had thought I was doing well enough to place high.

But when they announced the 3rd place rider, it still wasn't me. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back disappointment, and telling myself not to worry about it. That I'd be in other non-equitation classes at this show, other types of classes where I usually performed much better.

So now it was time for the red ribbon - 2nd place. I held my breath, looking at the volunteer with the red 2nd place ribbon and that blue ribbon I wanted so badly. The volunteer was a fellow Culver student; if I remember correctly, I think it was Rosann, a fellow Equestriennes teammate and good friend. She was standing there looking at us, a bunch of riders still left, but only two ribbons remained . . .

. . . and then I couldn't believe it! 2nd place was announced and it still wasn't my number. Suddenly, just before the announcer said the rider's name, I had a panicked butterfly sensation in my stomach! What the heck WAS my number?! I suddenly couldn't remember! Was it me? No, it wasn't. Was it?

Nope. During my momentary confusion, the announcer said someone else's name.

And then I was really disappointed.

But then the 1st place number was called while I once again held my breath, feeling that familiar disappointment again, and wishing it were just all over already . . . and when the number was announced, it was the number I'd kept repeating over and over in my head! It was my number! But I was so surprised, I didn't move at first, not sure if it had really been my number.

Then I heard the announcer say my name, and I was filled with relief and disbelief! I just couldn't believe I'd won! First of all, wow! I'd won an equitation class! That rarely happened (I usually did well in other types of classes). And secondly, it was my first Adult Equitation class! Double wow!

The Varsity Jumping coach, Capt. Chris Kerner, a long time instructor of mine while I was at Culver, was sitting near the gate with the biggest grin I'd ever seen as I rode past. Another instructor, Ms. Leslie Gordon (the Equestriennes and JV Jumping coach), saw his big ol' smile, teasing him about it. And Capt. Kerner's response? "Well, what else would you do if your kid was the best!" That kind of compliment meant as much as the blue ribbon.

I was so excited about this win; it seemed like an unlikely victory and I really appreciated it. After this first day of showing was over, and I'd cared for Sir Ebon and returned him to his stall, I was walking back to my dorm in the twilight. It was during this walk while I was replaying the events of the day, that I came upon one of my English instructors, Mr. Wiley. He saw me in my riding clothes, and asked how I was doing at the show. I was so excited that I just blabbed on and on about the day. He laughed, smiled big, and congratulated me on how well I'd done. I think he must've been surprised because I was usually much more reserved during class, not getting quite so animated, even if we were talking about a book or story I really loved.

As we said our "I'll see you on Monday in class" and goodbyes, I enjoyed the remaining walk back to my dorm, that wonderful spring evening after an exciting day.

(Oh, and by the way . . . I think I still have that blue ribbon somewhere, tucked away with other very important mementos. LOL!)