2010-2020 Luke Jones

2013 Poly Team in Stockholm

As many of you know, I am a child of the Poly - my dad, Rod(dy), played for the club. I was delivered by the Poly’s gynaecologist, Roger Marwood. I grew up going on holidays with families of club stalwarts such as Dave “Batman” Chapman, Phil Brayford, Peter McCartney, and Andy Lench. So when the opportunity to play for the Poly first arose, a club I knew so well, I should have jumped at the chance.

But I didn’t.

I was aware of the club elders’ eyes on me. I was very aware of how much the club meant to them and how much they wanted the club to succeed once again and be up at the top where it should be. I was (am) immensely proud of what Dad and that team had achieved and knew there would always be comparisons, but I wanted to be my own man, and I knew Dad definitely shared that sentiment.

I also wasn’t confident that I was good enough to play polo at this level - I’d done okay at a junior level, at school and university, but a lot of that polo was played in half-shallow pools and coached by sports teachers who had never previously squeezed into a pair of “rubbers”. I’d managed to do fairly well with a mixture of being quite speedy and having a half-decent shot; but I barely knew anything about “real” water polo, and so I had doubts as to whether I could live up to the focus that would be on me.

So, I did something which now seems unthinkable: I decided to train with Penguin. As I sit here now, I’m very glad to tell you that it was a sorry experience. A big part of my water polo up to that point was the social aspect: you train hard and reward that hard work with a beer or two afterward. That experience was non-existent with Penguin. In fact, quite the opposite. They seemed to actively dislike each other. There was fighting amongst the team during training. The older players barely acknowledged the younger players, and it felt like they didn’t want us there. Everyone would go their separate ways once they left the pool without so much as a “see you later”.

So, after a few weeks, I hastily (and quietly) joined the Poly training one evening at Porchester baths. It couldn’t have been more different. Everyone was very welcoming. Training was enjoyably hard. A post-training beer was offered and encouraged. And despite getting my ear bent by Simon GB about the merits of mining in sub-Saharan Africa, I signed up.

Little did I know at the time that I’d play for the club for 10+ years.

And what an eventful time it’s been.

When I joined, the team was spearheaded by the impressive Spyros Tzamikis (Jam Juice) who, often single-handedly, dragged the team into division 1 against all odds. Against all odds not because we were a bad team, but because it felt like we were up against questionably xenophobic officiating in every game. It was rare that we’d end up with a full set of players, often for unexplainable reasons; and the number of “foreigners” in our team was once loudly and performatively counted out by a rival coach on the poolside after we had soundly beaten them. It only served to make us stronger as a team and as teammates.

Perhaps another reason for this upward battle against BWPL officialdom was the presence of our coach, Thanassis, on the bench. Thanassis had just rejoined the club after serving a 5-year ban for pushing a ref into the pool and upturning the officials’ desk (whilst adorned in his trademark white cowboy hat and bum bag). He meant business, and with a strong Greek contingent in the team, he often got the best out of them, give or take the occasional mid-game tantrum.

Unfortunately, for my first few years at the club, we struggled to get out of the Division 2/Championship 1 cycle. We’d do well in the first phase but then struggle in the second, and we couldn’t make that extra step to gain promotion to division 1. We would also often struggle to get a full team and rely on players who knew they could get away with not training regularly but would still make the team for the weekend. Something which didn’t sit right with those of us who were training hard 3 times a week to give the team the best chance of success.

A few years later, the circumstances fell in a way which meant I was offered the opportunity to captain the team. The same thoughts I had when I joined the club arose once again, but ultimately I made the decision to take up the role as I thought I had some good ideas as to how we could push the team and the club forward from where we were. I was also very aware that I was a good “reference” from the old boys to the current-day team - something that had maybe been absent for a period.

The ideas I had weren’t rocket science (and nothing in comparison to the transformation the club has made under Chris) but were focused on garnering the commitment of the team to regularly attend training and national league weekends – we hired a coach to make training more focused and worthwhile, and we set up an “almost mandatory” post-training trip to Icco’s pizza on Goodge Street, which often heralded a drink or two. We managed to hit a sweet spot within the team, with most of the guys being a similar age and single-ish. We had a weekly residency at Troy, an unbelievably sweaty box shoe of a club just off Tottenham Court Road. Our Sunday sessions at Malet Street baths conquered our collective hangovers. They were some of the most enjoyable days and nights, and the Poly was back on the rise.

With the team spirit sky high, and training and league weekends regularly well attended, we managed to gain promotion to division one. It was no surprise that the promotion coincided with the very welcome addition of a fresh-faced, South African, vaginal wall engineer by the name of Christopher Icely.

Chris’ arrival very quickly changed the team’s direction. Whilst previously we’d come home frustrated from a league weekend having narrowly lost, we’d console each other in the fact that we couldn’t challenge those other teams who had much better access to pool time and coaches; Chris wouldn’t take this as an excuse, and for his first couple of seasons, “sulky Chris” would sit alone on the train home with a scowl on his face, inconsolable that we’d narrowly lost one of the games that weekend.

After a few seasons as captain, I started to feel like I had done what I had intended to do with the team and maybe taken it as far as I could. During my captaincy, I’d always had and valued Matteo’s opinion on what we were doing, and we started to discuss what the next steps might be. Chris was the obvious candidate to take the captaincy, and we knew that the club would be in good hands with him in charge. Whilst we hadn’t been able to make the title-challenging team we’d hoped for, I knew we were handing the reins to Chris with the team and Club in a great position to kick on.

The subsequent years have shown what a huge shift Chris has brought to the team. The hard work he has always done in the water has been replicated outside the pool, and he has raised the quality of the team so that they are now challenging for the title year on year. That hard work paid off last year when the team went on to both league and British Championship glory – as well a deserved accomplishment as there could be for someone who has always demanded and provided the best for the Club. We are so lucky to have him at the Poly.

Another person we are unbelievably lucky to have, and indeed we wouldn’t be where we are without, is James Reddick. James works tirelessly to ensure the club runs as smoothly as possible, and there is little doubt that without him, fixtures would be unfulfilled, players would be unregistered, meetings would not be attended, relationships with the league would be threadbare… the list is endless, but James takes all these thankless tasks on with few complaints and, alongside Chris, deserves all the credit for the Club’s recent successes.

The breadth of nationalities the team has always had represented within it is something I’ve always been so proud of. It’s a true representation of the multiculturalism of London. Having lived in other countries myself and experienced how difficult it can be to acclimatize to another city and its culture, one thing that I have always done is seek out the local polo team as I know I’m likely to find a bunch of like-minded, hard-working guys who don’t mind going for a drink or two. I’m proud that the Poly is that to a lot of people. But I know it’s much more than just that though.

I know that for my dad and his ex-teammates, it’s been a lifetime friendship - a brotherhood if you will; I know that that’s a similar experience for the generation after them, who still play together to this day, and the way the club rallied around each other after the long illness and sad death of Jerry Birmingham showed how important and close they regard one another; and I am beyond happy to call my ex-teammates friends way after we’ve all stopped playing, and I’m confident we’ll still be there for one another in the decades to come, whether it’s playing as a Poly Pork or going on holidays with each other’s families.

The Poly is a special club, which forms and enhances special friendships; and I count myself extremely lucky to have had the Club in my life for so long.

Luke Jones 1 June 2024