Forgot My Pants.

So we had our first real night of Bike Polo last night. 8-9 peeps showed up, we played some good hard polo. Nice, right? Yes, except that it was obvious that it was the first game in 9 months for all of us. Games were a bit slow, but wrecks hilariously frequent. It seems that there was a bit of a mad skillz disconnect between brain and bike and brain and mallet. And a fixed cog lockring that decided to pop off its hub. The results, directly involving a wall, were predictable and included a bent fork. As everyone got more fired up the incidents of contact became more frequent, until Captain E and I collided spectacularly. I sort of got thrown forward, landing on the side of my front wheel. No big deal, really. Except that when I got up, I had to extract a spoke from the skin on my shin. Yes, it was still attached to the hub and rim. Surprisingly, the wheel is still quite true.
In lieu of gory details and pictures, use this and your imagination:
Next time, I'm wearing pants.

By the way, we're still on next Wednesday for polo. 7:30.



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