Watching pickup sucks

heart

I went to polo on Sunday expecting to at least get a post out of it. Maybe something to do with the value of watching your club play and learning a little about the observation of the game.

Instead, I got all sorts of sweaty, my heart started getting tired, and I realized watching pickup is just about as boring as polo can get. It’s like watching people eat food. You can appreciate the act, but not taking part is kinda boring and borders on disgusting.

So I left early (after building a mallet up for Magpie, which was kinda nice to do, really), and I wandered back to the polo war room to enjoy the much-to-small-for-the-space air conditioning.

Eventually I zonked out for a half hour or so. That was fun, I guess.  I woke up and watched a few minutes of the South Central Regional Qualifiers until I realized it made my heart race, and then I felt compelled to turn it off.

Anyway – I figure my posts will become more strategic or philosophical until they work out what the hell is going on with my ticker. But for right now I’m just coming to terms with watching my polo bike pick up my mallet and run to the door.

…no, girl. No we aren’t going out to crush today.

I can tell you that it was humid as hell today at pickup, and that nobody was terribly pleased by that. We had a light drizzle which felt amazing, and…uh…some pistachios to eat…?

I’m going to go play with my Tagamagrams. Good day.

ISAIDGOODDAY

 

 

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