|
|
Discovering Oakland Bike Polo
|
|
Scott James
|
|
Last Updated on August, 25 2008 at 11:17 AM
|
|
|
|
Take the horses out of polo and put in cycles. The result: Bike polo
|
Drawn by the sound of skids, squeals and the pounding of plastic
against pavement, I pedal to the outermost corner of the Rockridge BART
parking lot. It is Thursday night in Oakland and I’m digging into the
underground culture of bike polo. As I coast up, there are riders doing
tricks off to the side and six shadowy bikes gliding along the asphalt.
|
Drawn by the sound of skids, squeals and the pounding of plastic against pavement, I pedal to the outermost corner of the Rockridge BART parking lot. It is Thursday night in Oakland and I’m digging into the underground culture of bike polo. As I coast up, there are riders doing tricks off to the side and six shadowy bikes gliding along the asphalt. On the sideline is a laughing and hugging huddle of off-duty messengers on fixed-gears, repair shop jedis in hoodies, and dark faces behind glowing cigarettes. They’ve all assembled to either play or watch bike polo, an almost secret sport that is approximately floor hockey on bikes. In the dark.
Games have three players on each side and the first team to score three points wins. A team scores by hitting a small orange ball (think neon racquet ball) through cones that designate two goals, one at each end of the bike polo field. Any rider whose foot touches the ground has to ride around his or her own goal before resuming play. The game starts with one team calling “Marco!” and the other team calling back, with the understated joy of jumping a curb, “Polo!”
One of the most endearing aspects is the graceful DIY ethic that permeates. I see bikes designed specifically for polo, while others play on mountain bikes or fixed gears. The most stylized bike I see has diminished wheels, the right handlebar sawed off and both brakes on one handle. Every mallet is homemade, using plastic pipe for the head and everything from old crutches to golf clubs and hockey sticks for the shafts. Those who play this game are those who love it.
The Oakland game is open to all, but draws a core group of around twenty that take the game and the community seriously. “It might just seem like kids riding around hitting balls with sticks, but there’s strategy, camaraderie, etc.,” says Kurt, who has been playing for years and works at the nearby Bent Spoke bike shop. “I come out, I play, I heckle, I drink beer… I heckle more than I play,” he adds with a grin. “It’s a good time for bike geeks in general, bike culture, just to come out and spend some time. It beats the hell out of sitting at a bar.”
Watching the game, my first thought is that these people would make great Jedis. How can you possibly control a little ball with a stick on a bike? But the ball is always on course and there are no collisions. There are beginner games and “loaner” mallets for those who are intrigued but a little intimidated. “There are games in every city all over the place,” says Chris, who is visiting from Seattle, the city where U.S. bike polo is said to have begun. All the games he’s been to along the coast have a common “chill, clubhouse atmosphere.” Pointing to a laughing girl with dreadlocks named Jackie, who plays like she is using “the force,” he says, “She set out early in the summer with the goal of playing in every U.S. city.” Wait… there are more of these?
After doing a little research, I find that bike polo has been around since at least the turn of the century (the twentieth century, that is), and originated either in Ireland, England, or India as a way for horseback polo players to practice. From San Francisco and Seattle to New York City, there are tournaments, underground scenes, and regional cultures. There are many associations and groups across the country working to raise the game's profile and popularity. Some of them are rather well-organized, such as the American Bike Polo Association (ABPA), a non-profit group based in Richland, WA, which puts together bike polo tournaments and sends its teams to competitions in countries such as Canada, England and India, where the game is better known and loved. However, in most cities, the game stays underground, and the teams resemble the one at the Rockridge BART station that evening rather than the one at ABPA.
Just as I’m gathering up the courage to try in a loaner mallet, I hear a loud voice say, “This is private property. Please leave the premises. You cannot assemble here.”
It was BART police putting an end to the game. They said that management had received complaints from the neighbors. (BART police did not return subsequent phone calls from this reporter.) With lights flashing and megaphone blaring, it takes a few minutes for the crowd to understand that they are being kicked out. Kicked out for riding bikes in a parking lot? I realize that what was going to be a simple article profiling a local sport is suddenly a chance to see the underground meeting the surface. “How the government is a f****ing buzz kill – put that in your article,” sneers Jackie.
The crowd grumbles and has an unsatisfying but respectful talk with the officer; The bike polo crowd doesn’t get a clear answer about why they’re all being thrown out. Afterward, I follow the group to the nearby Public House on College for a beer.
The bike polo enthusiasts tell me that they’d had been kicked out of the DMV parking lot on Claremont Avenue last summer. They began playing in the BART parking lot because it is lit at night. They’re careful about public property – they play way in the corner, picking a piece of the parking lot where there are no parked cars.
I sip my own ale, wondering, what next? How will Oakland, town of so many intersections, activism, and sanctuaries respond to a group that only wants a place to play a game? Maybe the group will have to learn to organize, to form partnerships that will move bike polo out of the underground scene.
“Even if we find another place, the same thing will happen once word gets out,” shrugs Jason, who spent a good 15 minutes debating BART policies with the officer. The question of the future floats like foam, but answers will have to wait for another night; there are beers to drink and jokes to tell. For now, I toast my glass to the players. While this game may have to move venues, bike polo as a sport isn’t going anywhere bad. As Kurt says: “It’s a damn good time. If you like bikes, it’s even better.”
To watch bike polo games, visit www.youtube.com/watch?v=JodECqgZBPQ
The last names of the bike polo players have not been used in this article in accordance with their wishes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
OAKLAND
SPORTS
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sports
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|