The day starts well enough; I wake up late and go for the Sunday ritual coffee with she who must be obeyed. Sadly she is carrying a grocery shopping list, so after the coffee I am dragged round a supermarket, never my favourite pastime.
After lunch, she decides she is going to have her hair straightened, a three hour operation, so I settle down to start processing the 1,500 polo photos I have taken over the past three days. Half are junked, ninety percent of the rest are average, but there are a few I am pleased to have taken.
Not a sport for the faint hearted. The injury tally for the three days was one suspected fractured wrist and two broken heads, plus the usual bumps and bruises. And this was just a friendly match…
