2013-2023 Chris Icely
2017 Poly Team
My time with Poly started at the tail end of 2013, as a recent immigrant to the British Isles from deepest, darkest South Africa.
At the time I knew nothing of British waterpolo and its long historical shadow. My decision to join Poly was based purely on the proximity of the training sessions to my then mould-infested, hole-in-the-wall, home in Bethnal Green and the infantile names of the alternatives; clubs named after small, fluffy animals are not serious water polo organisations.
Looking back, it’s remarkable to me the outsized influence this organisation has had on my life relative to the flippant criteria on which I chose it.
At the completion of my first session, I clearly remember Luke Jones, the then captain, interrogating me as to my intentions with regards to his club. Would I be committed? Would I attend trainings and matches? Above all, would I be a valued member of the club? At the time, the significance of this line of questioning was lost on me… Little did I know that a few years later I’d be asking the same set of questions as new waves of immigrants washed up on these rocky shores.
While Poly’s British history is in no doubt, by the time I arrived, Poly was a mirror to the London diaspora. Like Great Britain’s waves of immigrants over the centuries, Poly was the same. When I arrived, an Aegean tide was withdrawing and with it, the Greek heroes of that time. These characters, more mythical than man-like, were from a time of madness, and a mere mortal like myself could not and dared not to understand ways of these titans. Individuals like Spyros, Alkis and Costa and the infamous Thannasis had been the core of the Poly for several years and had guided the club through the jetsam and flotsam of British polo. Thannasis, the cowboy-hat-wearing, referee-kicking madman, whom I had never met but had certainly heard of, had set the tone for how deeply invested one could become in this club and it’s performance.
But as the Greek Olympic flame dulled and eventually died, a new radioactive core of Poly would solidify around the children of Spain. These bull taming Iberians brought a Latin flair to the Poly, wowing their teammates with their intelligent and powerful play. The Brothers Ardid, Carlos and Miguel, were the personification of intelligence in the pool, surpassed only by their intelligence outside it. Joan “More Power” Secanell on the other hand was a bully in defence, clamping and breaking hapless centre forwards while bringing a crafty Catalonian edge to his shooting, fooling many a defender and goalkeeper over the years. Jorge Herando, or “Spanish George” as he was lovingly known to his teammates rounded out this Spanish core. His tireless defence and his desire to sacrifice himself at the altar of VO2 max so his team mates could get the glory spoke to his commitment to the team. Fernando “Fucking hell” Galan Biens, or “Nando”, rounded out the Iberian wrecking machine with his electric speed and his unorthodox but occasionally effective shooting technique. Fernando would later become the second team captain and a Poly-lifer, serving the club both aquatically and administratively for a decade and some – fucking hell.
However, while the Spanish wave grew, peaked, and eventually crashed, a more sinister tide of darker Latin water was infiltrating the Poly. The heirs of Augustus would come to claim Poly as their own. Like the Sicilian mafia, they entered the club on false pretences and soon came to dominate it. The archetype of this was Matteo Gaspari. A goalie by training, he joined the Poly as an outfield player, using his left handedness to maintain the fiction he knew what he was doing outside his cage. However, once the ruse was discovered and Don Matteo, or “Papa” as he’d come to be known, was returned to the goal mouth, he formed a rock on which many a Poly victory was made. His athleticism in goal was only surpassed by his photogenic facial expression when blocking shots.
Like Papa, Sergio Schiaffino, entered the Poly like a poison pill, his water polo pedigree in no doubt but his antics outside the pool shocking to even the night time denizens of Soho, Bangkok… or Cancun. With time though, Sergio came to be not only my sergeant in arms but the playful, joyful heart of the club. His 10+ years with Poly speak to his devotion to the organisation.
With the arrival of Federico Carucci, Michele Aureli and Giacomo Cupido, the mafioso take over was complete. Fede, like Spanish George, arrived at the Poly with little fluency in English but over the years became another constant of the club. With his English improving and his talent shining, Fede claimed the “play maker” role in the pool, inspiring his teammates with his rhetoric outside the water and his inspired vision in the water. He was at his best and happiest when he was the catalyst for an amazing team goal but he himself not being the one to put the ball into the net. Michele, meanwhile, for what he lacked in stature, he made up for in cunning. As a right hander down the right wing, physics and statistics would dictate that he should score approximately zero goals, yet time and again, Michele would beat the blocker and the keeper with his sleight of hand and misdirection. The last member of the Augustan dynasty is Giacomo Cupido. Giac, Cupi, or “Pennuto”(“Feather”) as he was known was likely the most talented player with whom I shared the water during my time at Poly. If not for a series of unfortunate injuries ruling him out for several months at a time across multiple seasons, I have no doubt that Giac would have attained legendary status within Poly circles. There’s still time…
The final wave of course was mine. Like a nightmare that only a Victorian coloniser could have, wave after wave of South Africans washed up on the Poly shores. At first, it was a trickle with myself, Chris “Breezy” Brown and Campbell, “the Bambi”, Gregory both of whom are remarkable athletes. Chris is probably the best lazy player I have ever seen. He would do nothing except score at least 2 goals a game, every game. The ease with which he “breezed” through the polo pool was astounding. Bambi, on the other hand was a physical menace in front of goal. Centre backs would ride him as he threw them about like driftwood in a tsunami. Never has a nickname been more ironic.
With the above players, Poly came the closest it had ever come to winning the BWPL in the 2017/2018 season. Coached by Poly legend, Gary Simons, we came within inches of winning the league. We were in fact the only team that beat eventual winners Solihull, ironically in the last match of the season, ruining their victory lap. Were it not for the Beast from the East screwing the league scheduling, Poly’s 2nd place could have been a 1st. With bitter realisation, I assumed that my time as captain would could come to an end without ever holding aloft the BWPL trophy...
Before another natural disaster interfered with the polo season, Poly took in a couple more “saffas”: Nick Hock and Julian “work event” Lewis. The only thing more scared of Nick than a centre forward was a calorific dish. In either case, Nick would regularly demolish these opponents. Coupled with his accurate and long-range shooting, he was one hell of a centre back. Behind him in the cage was Jules. One of South Africa’s best goal keepers in recent memory, Jules stepped up to take over as Papa retired from his decade long labour of defending Poly’s goal mouth. Jules’ shot stopping was second to none in the BWPL league, many times pulling Poly from the brink with a goal line save that any normal goalie would never have dreamed of getting to, let alone saving. Were it not for all of Jules’ “work events” that kept him from the pool, his influence on Poly would have been even greater!
And then Covid happened… with seasons lost and my shoulder not what it once was, I was considering calling it a day on captaining the glorious ship that is Poly. My heart was no longer in it, and I felt that I could no longer bring the energy required to steer this mighty dreadnought… But the Poly was not done with me…
Following the opening of borders post-Covid, a new wave of young South Africans flooded into the Poly. Their talent was obvious, unfortunately their “South Africanness” more so (“Have you ever met a nice one?”). Having been a key member of Poly for a decade by then and an anglicised-saffa too, I realised that my best playing days were behind me and that the most useful thing I could do was to integrate these barbarous Africans into the club and forge an unholy unity between them and the remaining mafioso. To quote Sergio, I decided to give it “one last push”.
At first there was mistrust and disregard between the two groups - the young and cocky “brus” resentful of the positions of power held by the Italians; the Augustan regime sceptical of the talents of the youngsters. The 2021/2022 season after Covid was the fire that forged them together. Many awkward training sessions and disappointing losses later, Poly scraped into the 1st division for the 2022/2023 season by the smallest of margins. The margins being so thin that had Fede not saved a one-on-nothing, Poly would have remained in the second division. As to why Federico was in goal – a Jules’ work event. Despite the struggles of that season, it was moments like these that brought the Poly together.
And so, we entered the 2022/2023 season competing in the 1st division (only just), targeting a place in the Super5s. In our hearts, we knew we were good enough to win the league but it wasn’t going to be an easy path. In the very 1st game of that season, we lost to the bottom ranked side Caledonia. This was then immediately followed with a win against previous season title holders, Manchester. The season followed this pattern as we struggled to come together as a team and put in consistent performances. We could beat Manchester, the title holders but we kept losing to arch nemesis Penguin who at the Christmas break sat atop the table and it looked like the title was theirs to take… Fortunately, that future did not come to pass. The final game of the season was Poly vs Penguin and the table being what it was, Poly needed to win the game to secure victory, while a draw would hand the title to Penguin.
Two facts about the game, in my mind, summarise how far Poly had come. The eldest of the mafioso, Sergio Sciaffino, scored 3 archetypal “Serg-goals”: a lazy lean to the left, arm over the head, bounce, first corner – a goal I had watched him score for over a decade. On the other hand, the youngest of the Saffas and newest member to the club, Caleb Simpson scored what can only be considered a “wunder-goal”: 9 meters, foul and shot, bounce, over the keeper’s head, crossbar, in. That goal took Poly to 11-10, a final scramble on defence and… the game and first BWPL title in several decades was Poly’s. To take it from Penguin made it all the sweeter.
With victory secured at British champs a couple of months later, Poly was now the “champ-champs”. And with this, my “final push” was over, I could hand the captaincy reigns over to the highly competent and capable hands of Kimon Haralambous. His support and leadership was a major factor in making the 2022/2023 season the success it was.
The final cherry on my Poly cake was to compete in European competition. I had desperately hoped for such an opportunity but never thought it likely. However, as champ-champs, Poly had qualified to play in Europe for first time in decades. With the support of the club president, we flew to exotic Istanbul to test ourselves against continental opposition. Host team (and eventual competition winners) Galatasaray, Sporting Clube De Portugal and KVP Novaky were to be our opposition. A win against Sporting and a narrow loss to Novaky, Poly acquitted itself with aplomb and I hope that Poly will return to Europe again in the very near future. For me personally, to end my (official) Poly career in Istanbul was a dream come true and the highlight of my polo career.
And while I wish the new, younger, Poly generation all the best, I must pay homage to a couple more immigrants and one final geographic grouping too. Hadrien Collineau, Poly’s token French representative, is to hulking centre forwards what spider-wasps are to tarantulas. Monstrous centre forwards would be left scratching their heads wondering where the ball had gone as Hadrien elegantly disposed them of it and swam away on the counter. His small stature hid a top-notch water polo brain.
Lyndon Cranley, David Hardie and Jamie Cameron on the other hand represented the United Kingdoms furthest colonies of Australia and New Zealand. As elder statesmen of the club they provided calm heads in and out of the water to counterbalance the Latin fury of their European counterparts. Lyndon, like Hadrien, had a fantastic water polo brain and his friendship with Fede was thing of beauty, especially when provided fidget spinners in a Spanish night club. In my later years as captain, I was ever thankful to Dave and Jamie for their help in running the club and coaching the team at BWPL weekends. Good players in the own right, it spoke to their commitment to the club to sacrifice their weekend knowing that they would not be getting water time. That said, as coach, Jamie did in fact get water time when Poly won the league. Rightfully so.
Finally, not so much a wave of immigrants but the rocks on which all the other ex-pats crashed were the longtime British members of the club. Always in the minority, they nonetheless welcomed us foreigners and ensured we were properly integrated: Guiness and pork scratching anyone? Jeremy Johnson and Brian Hoy, two more different people I could not imagine (admittedly, Brian is different to everyone else on earth!). In their own idiosyncratic ways, they have both been stalwarts of the club and behaved with utmost calibre on Poly’s foreign tours. In particular, Jeremy and Joan’s double date and Brian’s hour long, 7am wrestle with Sergio in a Dutch caravan park come to mind…
Gareth Keen, on the other hand had the 2nd hardest job in Poly: treasurer. And even though he embezzled Poly’s money to pay for his wedding, we have long forgiven him this fault as he has masterly counted the ducats over the years and made sure Poly could continue as a going concern.
Luke Jones, my predecessor, was the perfect link to Poly’s past and acted as its moral compass. I am both honoured and furious that he both gifted and cursed me with the mantle of Poly captain. Having worn it himself, he knew how heavy it weighed but also how rewarding that weight was. I look forward to joining him as an ex-captain of London Polytechnic.
The last group of locals I must thank are the old boys who have stuck with the club through good times and bad. In particular, the four ridiculously named: John “Rambo” Clark, Phil “Punchy” Hallwood, Dave “Birdie” Bird and Gary “nickname-not-required-as-he’s-crazy-enough-as-it-is” Simons. Rambo and Punchy were the best club chairman and president I could’ve hoped for, whose generosity of time and resources over the years kept the Poly dreadnaught sailing true and steady. Birdie and his semi-regular appearances at practices allowed us youngsters to learn of Poly’s earlier glory days while Gary was a still living, albeit slightly fossilised, relic from those times, occasionally getting in the water and showing us what the 90s were all about. Gary’s turn as coach during my earlier years of captaincy was a godsend, letting me focus on polo and helping poly get back to 1st division polo.
The hardest job at Poly is, of course, being the secretary. For as long as I’ve been at the club, James “Jimbo” Reddick has been the true captain of this ship. From managing the old boys, organising the annual dinners, to carrying the water bottles at matches, there is no job too small or too big that James can’t or won’t do for this club. While small in stature, James has the broadest of shoulders and I don’t believe it hyperbolic when I say that this club rests on them. I’m glad that I get to call him my friend and if I have achieved anything at this club it is because of him.
For over a decade, I have done my best to contribute to the club both in and out of the water. I like to think I’ve left it better than I found it while recognising that the Poly dreadnought still finds itself navigating the precarious seas of being a water polo club in a city that hates swimming pools and in a country that has forgotten it gave birth to this great game. But with Poly’s 150-year anniversary this year, I don’t believe for a moment that greater challenges weren’t overcome in the past and that these current challenges will not be overcome too. I’m glad to have played my small role in London Polytechnic’s history… it has changed my life.
Christopher Icely 26 May 2024