Coming of Age for Newcastle Gentlemans Bicycle Polo

There in the shade of tall pines this Sunday past, with many families gathered to watch, red cones marking a somewhat larger field, and with a great roll-up, there was a palpable sense of coming of age for our no longer "fledgling" bike polo club. The Mad Hatton was a clear man of the match, myself Dr. Behooving being somewhat over geared on the vintage Raleigh, and Egor choosing to mooch around with the women on the lawn for much of the match. Yes, there were rumblings of discontent about the use of a golf club as a whacker, and it remains to be seen if this situation cannot be escalated in a gentlemanly manner to the point were see our first to-the-death duel! I’ll simply drop that bomb and stand back now. On a more savory note, many club members have been heading to the Newcastle Bicycle Ecology centre in Robert Street Wichkam, and collecting free bikes. Next may I suggest we each get down to rebel sports next, for $40 cricketing helmets; we are all too handsome not to be mindful of the prospect of facial injuries. 
Cool lagers were enjoyed at The Lowlands Bowling Club, who I believe are meeting to discuss which wall NGBP’s big wooden honor role should feature upon. And so it is that, with great pleasure, I am able to announce, Newcastle Gentleman’s Bicycle Polo will be played every Sunday at 2pm, from now to eternity, whackers provided.  

I am also delighted to report on some festering differences within our fraternity (see link to comments), calling many of us to arms in defense of our honour. In essence, I, Dr. Behooving, have been niggling away at you all, hoping each of you individually might challenge me to a duel. I propose Sunday 25 April be looked to as a date for a series of pool-noodle jousts on bike-back (unless any of you own a few horses), between myself and all comers, but especially those who I have slighted. They wouldn’t be jousts were pride not at stake!


  1. Golf club?!?

    I will try not to take this too personally – given that it is me that uses the “apparently” discontent inducing alternative to the conventional whacker!!!!

    I must admit to being rather partial to my ex-golf-now-polo-club-whacker-thingie. It has a particularly satisfying sweet spot which allows me to hit the ball with a minimum of finesse and control but a corresponding maximum of power and aggression.

    I really do not see the problem???


    • Steven says:

      Re: Golf club?!?

      Dear fellow gentlemen, should you feel compelled to join this discussion, I would ask that you do not sign off “anon”. There is a very real chance that this mole hill could be made into something really quite thrilling, like a joust! I’m sure that with slow bikes in long grass, and with much to pad the ends our lances, this is something in which we would all love to partake (and no, I do not mean all of us v Roberto). It would sure bring the women to watch! Perhaps NBN too!
      Roberto, as the one tossing wood on the fire, may I have the honour of a battle with you?

  2. Have at you Sir!

    Not wanting to come across all namby-pamby but perhaps a swimming pool noodle is a sufficiently aggressive but not too lethal weapon – as against some form of lance?!?


    • Steven says:

      Re: Have at you Sir!

      Sir, you are on! I have such a noodle in my possession. AND a foam sword. But really, I’m thinking a bundle of noodle pieces on the end of a long floppy piece of conduit, such as Egor may have left over from making whackers, would make a safe and fun kind of lance, and one that might even have some chance of felling one’s foe. What say ye?

  3. I say: Honour must be satisfied!!!

  4. Anonymous says:

    new club grounds?

    what happened to the grand old club grounds of the bowling greens overlooking King Edward Park? times sure r changing in the bike polo competition in newcastle

    • Steven says:

      Re: new club grounds?

      we couldn’t make the numbers stack up on the kind of renovation we had in mind for the clubhouse. It so happens the kinds of things we were given a taste for as children, cost more than those things a pleb might prefer. Drats again, we just had to say in the end.

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