Ask an Umpire

A day in the life

What it is like to be a professional polo umpire

By Dana Fortugno

Your umpire equipment takes up the room in your carry-on, so clothes go in a backpack.

This month, rather than a question, let’s have a little fun. Instead of the same old rule analysis I give you most of the time, how about an inside look at what it is like being an umpire for the USPA? Could you do it? Would you do it? Next time you are complaining about your team loss and how it was the umpire’s fault, think about this article. Let’s see if you have what it takes to do what our 27 USPA umpires do all the time.

Just for fun, we can skip over the qualifications and move to the job itself. We will assume you are qualified, meaning you have played polo for about 20-plus years, reached at least a 3-goal handicap (most have reached over 5 goals) and you have a solid concept of the game of polo. You have been trained by the USPA Umpires, LLC and passed all its evaluations. You have a few seasons under your belt. Now, here is what its like: The piercing alarm wakes you from a deep sleep on Friday at 3:30 a.m. You slip out of bed quietly, trying not to wake up your spouse, who hates it when you travel because she must stay behind all alone. You need to shower, eat something and be out the door by 4:30 to make your hour-long drive to the airport for your 7:30 flight. It is a good thing you packed your bags last night! You manage to fit all your polo gear into a carry-on and your clothes into a backpack. You are off to your destination, hoping the flights are on time because you are scheduled to be on a horse at 3 p.m for the first of two games you are scheduled to umpire.

You made it to the airport and thru the TSA checkpoint after explaining that your pick-up stick is not a weapon of any kind (you have an 80% chance it will not be taken from you). If they take it, that is $50-$100 out of your pocket and you better find one for the day’s games. Assuming all goes well, you land about 1 p.m. and are about an hour from the field. Great, you have enough time to get your rental car and a bite to eat, change into your whites and head to the field. That is, if the flights weren’t delayed, the rental car company didn’t lose your reservation or run out of cars.

You get to the field at 2 p.m. and nobody is there. At about 2:30 the trailers roll in and the manager comes over to you, unloading the club drama on you in all of 10 minutes. All you hear is they are running a little late and they need to find you horses for the first game (you hope the horses are not green, you can only hope). You are ready to mount at 2:50 but you wait for everyone else to start mounting up. You finally mount up at 3:20 and blow the whistle. After answering a few questions and listening to how much

the players hate any rules changes, you get started. Game on! Appealing begins and player management is full on. One team loses and says they will formally complain, while the other team wins and thinks you did a fine job. Now, the game that was supposed to start at 5 gets under way at 5:30. So what, it did not rain so everyone is happy.

You are done at 7 and are invited to the after-game picnic. You want to be polite and are starving, so you attend. You grab some food and sit to eat when the complainers descend upon you. You cannot say anything bad that will come back to haunt you, so you just try and explain things as best you can, looking for

an opportunity to leave without being rude. But first, you check in with the manager about the next round of games scheduled for Sunday, and you are told the games are scheduled for 10 and 12 but they are not completely sure if one team can make it so stay tuned. You need to leave the field by 3 to have time to return the rental car and make your 6 o’clock flight. You are hoping they stick to the schedule they presented when your flight home was booked.

You finally check in at the Holiday Inn and are happy because it is a new one and seems nice. You get into your room by 9, call home, shower and go to sleep. You wake Saturday morning and FaceTime with your spouse for an hour then start your day. You need to eat, maybe workout and entertain yourself for the day (as an independent contractor, its all on your personal tab by the way).

You made it through the boring day in a strange city without spending too much money—it’s a win for you. The manager texts you that the games have been moved to 12 and 2 because the club got a little rain and the field needs more time to dry. Great, now you must rush to make your flight, but you can do it, it is still possible. You do not want to stay another night and miss your dentist appointment on Monday or whatever you have planned.

You are back at the club ready to go. The game gets started 20 minutes late. The weather is good, and the field is dry—good enough. In the fifth period of the first game, a player falls off and hurts his back. The team needs a substitute and has no idea what the substitution rule is all about. You explain it and tell them they only have 10 minutes. After repeated requests about using an unqualified substitute, the game resumes 25 minutes later. You are unsure if you will make your flight, which is the last flight out—it always is. You finish with the games at 4:15

(continued on page 57)

You hope the umpire horses provided are not green.