Daniel Pedersen

The Courier Mail

December 27, 2002

By Daniel Pedersen

Hua Hin, Thailand

THE great lumbering creatures stumble about on the saturated field as their opposing mounts attempt to deliver the ball to their respective goals.

Welcome to international elephant polo — destined never to be a gripping spectator sport.

The cream of the world’s players recently descended upon Thailand’s resort town of Hua Hin, 200km south of Bangkok, to do battle. But it was the height of the wet season and play was marred by intermittent torrential downpours.

However, the show must go on.

And what a show it was.

Sponsors’ tents flank the oval, their brand names emblazoned on huge banners around the playing field. There are big names, including Chivas Regal, Carlsberg and American Express. Western food abounds in these tents; the display cabinets resemble those that adorn trendy cafes.

Well-to-do groups gather around tables, sipping cappuccinos and cocktails, consuming ham and cheese croissants and vol au vents — it could be any polo match in the world.

But it is not.

One of the first games of the day ends and another is supposed to start immediately, but the tuskers are hot, they need a break.

At the edge of the playing field there are large barrels filled with water, the elephants suck the water into their trunks then spray their sides with powerful jets while flapping their ears to help cool themselves.

As this ritual is performed the beasts’ handlers, or mahouts, slash long grass with scythes so their charges can enjoy a snack between matches.

After some respite, it’s time for the next match — Chivas Regal (Germany) versus American Express (Nepal).

Germany scores first, but after just 36 seconds, scores are level at one apiece.

Nepal shoots again but misses.

Half the crowd groans, the rest cheer.

The commentator is animated: "That’s a bad miss, a bad miss, when you’re playing at this level of the game you simply can’t afford misses like that."

Then Germany makes a break, something that will mark this tournament.

Five minutes and 14 seconds into the first chukka the score is 4-1.

The scores remain unchanged at half-time. The talk among the crowd broaches many topics: "What a quality game this is; what a weird a concept this is; what this can do for tourism here; who wants another beer?"

It is time for the second chukka to begin, the all-important chukka, the one that makes champions, well . . . champions.

Germany, in an ominous display of shooting, runs away with the game to win 9-1.

The idea that polo could be played atop elephants was conceived in India, when Peter Prentice of Perth and Briton James McCann decided it could work.

The first game was contested in 1982.

McCann, considered the father of the sport, wanders off the field with a bloody mary in each hand.

He watches the next game between Thailand A and another German team.

He watches with intensity — this is his game, his concept.

I want to shout at him: "What the hell were you thinking, you fool?"

Just behind McCann stands a display from Thailand’s National Elephant Institute, an organisation formed to help raise awareness of tuskers in the kingdom.

One of the volunteers manning the display and disseminating information about the group’s work is Martin Cummings, from London. What does he think of the event? "Yeah, well I don’t really agree with using elephants in this way, but this is not a perfect world. In an ideal world all of the elephants would be in the jungle . . ."

ENDS