…and plenty of it! Unlike other baser sports where they tend to spray it in all directions we pour it carefully into the Cup and DRINK IT. Whether it is because they like the respect that we polo players show for their product or the image is right but polo and champagne walk hand in hand and Thirstyboy for one has never had a problem with it.
At its most obvious, here in the UK, Veuve Cliquot have sponsored the Cowdray Park Gold Cup for many years and made it one of their events of the season. Having enjoyed their hospitality on several occasions I have to say that there is something about good polo and a great setting that after a really good lunch makes Veuve Cliquot the only drink that matters.
Pommery won the Gold Cup and being involved with the team I was able to sample their product on a pleasingly regular basis and can tell you that in the moment of victory nothing could have tasted finer.
In fact after a hard fought match preferably played under a hot sun I do not care where you are or whether it is vintage or not, properly chilled it is the only victor’s tipple. Shot myself in the eye once in my rush to get it open. Blind for a few minutes but the champagne bought back my eyesight in due course, so its restorative powers are sans pareil.
Alexandre Ebeid always used to celebrate his Gold Cup wins in Deauville with Lalou. Starting at the stables the victory procession wound its way through the town and ended up at Chez Mioque. Far too much of it was spilt and sprayed for my liking but there was always enough of it to quench even my thirst so no complaints from me. I even discovered a case of it one memorable evening when after supper at the swank local hostelry we ventured out to the Good Knight club in Haslemere and of course delighted at my discovery Alex insisted we drank it all. Staying locally would have been a blessing that night but with one eyed closed I had to return to Berkshire to deliver a young lady home well after curfew. Clandestine visits thereafter I am sad to recount .
On a polo trip to Japan I met my denoument in a cascade of Dom Perignon. The company had most kindly stood on as main sponsor and a fair proportion of that was in product. Torrential rain had turned the pitch into two small pitches joined by an small causeway around the half way line but the show went on and the assembled thousands of guests had a fantastic day. Some serious consumption of the sponsor’s product ensued and the bus ride home amongst other horrors included a well known player jumping out of the window onto a neighbouring car and whipping it furiously to try and clear the traffic jam. It was a sad end to an epoch really and even I with my legendary thirst have not been able to enjoy one of the finest Marques in the same way from that day forwards.