We returned to Buenos Aires for the final of the polo having collected Lauren who took a bus from Santiago for a happy mother and daughter reunion. The game was the first maximum handicap in the history of the competition with all eight players holding a perfect 10. Despite the clouds threatening rain, it remained dry even with sunny periods and the game began after the usual ceremonies that included the national anthem, a long affair to which not many seemed to know the words.

The game lacked for nothing having both horses and players carted off, the two sides appearing to be using all means fair and foul to gain the upper hand. The umpires were kept busy, blowing their whistles for fouls and being surrounded by players arguing and holding their hands up innocently. Unlike a football match there wasn’t any diving going on but just about everything else was tried especially if the opposition looked certain to score. As a result, most goals were scored from penalties in a contest that was start/stop the whole way through. Nonetheless, the skill of the players and the agility of the horses was incredible and a pleasure to watch. The crowd was highly partisan, the two teams having their supporters at either end of the pitch shouting encouragement and encouraging the umpires to spot transgressions whenever play came near them.

At the end of the full 8 chukkas, the score was even at 16 goals each so sudden death reared its ugly head for the ninth and final session. From the start, Cambiaso (Dolfina) got an unopposed run at goal and it seemed like it was going to be all over very quickly but, to prove that even the best players are human, he not only missed an open goal (much to the derision of my girls who thought him a complete plonker) but he promptly fell arse over tit off his horse coming around, and brought the game to a halt. A dramatic limping walk to the side-line, a change of horse, a slap on the back and Cambiaso was back in play (hurrah). Following the ‘goalkick’ restart, Dolfina got the ball back and, in a goalmouth scramble, forced it over the line for the winner. It was all over bar the cheering & shouting and this signalled a general crowd invasion of the pitch, particularly to the Dolfina team area as thousands of fans wanted to join in the celebrations.

We, of course, remained calm and watched the presentations until boredom set in, upon which we repaired to the champagne tent for a large tincture before foraging for dinner at the aptly named Lo de Jesus (House of Jesus). It had been great fun and a polo experience with which we will bore all our friends in Sotogrande.