Two riders charge toward each other, rods in hand, and the joust begins. The Gainesville Bike Polo All Stars have begun their weekly Thursday night practice.
Bike polo is similar to the traditional field sport of polo, but players ride bikes instead of horses as they use mallets to push balls into the opposing team’s goal. Invented in Ireland in the 1800s, the sport has since spread worldwide. Gainesville jumped on the hype in 2009, and about 10 members now gather weekly at a Gainesville park to play until the lamp posts go out.
Over time, the club has become a community for people of different backgrounds. Its competitive-yet-welcoming spirit builds sweat along with lasting connections, and players say the bonds formed stretch further than the lines on the court.
“We became inseparable,” said 34-year-old polo player Olivia Walters of Ash Young, her best friend on the team. Walters joined the team seven years ago when a Tinder date brought her to bike polo.
At 9:15 p.m., Walters called the players to start the night’s practice.
Each player tossed their mallets into the court, and one person randomly picked out three mallets for each team to determine who would play first.
After a joust, which is similar to a tip-off, the players split into teams of three, one hand on a bicycle and a mallet in the other. They swerved around their opponents as their teammates on the bench cheered, “Yes, girl, go!”
“A familiarity with bikes, being comfortable with a bike, puts you way ahead in the game,” said 34-year-old archaeologist Nigel Rudolph.
Bikes squeaked to a halt as Bubba Sparxxx’s “Ms. New Booty” blasted from a portable speaker.
Each game lasts 15 minutes or until one team has scored five points. If players touch the ground, they’re immediately forced to leave the court and tap their mallet on a pole in the middle of the court in order to rejoin the action.
Bike polo has a lot of components, but the most important part is to “be patient and have fun,” Rudolph said.
Another key rule about being on the team? “Don’t be an a—hole,” Walters said.
The occasional shoulder-to-shoulder contact is allowed, and the players wear some protective gear. For the most part, the team remains civil, except for the occasional broken collarbone, mallets twisted into pretzels or balls lodged into spokes of a bike.
Players avoid wreckage by treating their vessels to “the works,” like meticulously placing defensive wheel covers on their bikes.
One player, Juan Griego, found a way to protect his steed by turning trash into treasure.
Griego, 47, said he walked past a Checkers one day and noticed a cardboard cutout of a burger sitting by a trashcan. It inspired him to create his iconic “burger bike.” Two images of a juicy burger with all the fixings now lay on top of the spokes of the front wheels. Griego even added toppings by “laser cutting the pickles to cover the brakes.”
Watching the burgers spin on the court not only hypnotizes people into the game, but it also gives a strange craving for red meat.
“It's a Cuban thing, you know,” Griego said. “You invent with what you have.”
The Gainesville All Stars don't confine their avant-garde bikes to Gainesville. They plan on attending a bike tournament in Birmingham, Alabama, in the coming weeks. Tournament trips have become week-long slumber parties for the team, giving them a chance to deepen their bonds.
The team has grown closer over the years, and they are always opening their doors to newcomers.
Exa Moseley, one of their newest players and a transgender woman, noted that amid all the controversy surrounding trans people in sports, the All Stars “have been very accepting and extremely inclusive.”
While Moseley doesn't have all the equipment, the club has helped her find temporary bikes and build a mallet, so she can still participate. Bike polo, a traditionally gender-inclusive sport, is played on mixed teams.
“From the jump, everyone was just really nice to me and wanted me to keep coming,” Moseley said.
This acceptance doesn't just stop at people. The team also has their own bike polo dog, Millie. Millie’s owner, Brit Ryan, 31, loves watching bike polo just as much as Millie does, although she doesn’t usually play herself. A simple hour watching the lamp posts illuminate the players on the court is just enough for both of them before they head to bed for the night.
Catalina Frias is a contributing writer for The Alligator. Contact her at c.frias@ufl.edu.
