“Resembling a tribe of urban Robin Hoods, the merry band gets down to business. Somewhere far away on a green expanse of real estate, bike polo’s pony-based predecessor is no doubt carrying on its traditions among pricey horseflesh, full-time grooms and magnums of Champagne. Here, however, the satisfying sound of ball against plastic is followed by a ‘ping’ as the projectile finds a chain-link fence. There are high-speed chases and instant emergency stops, crashing, weaving, scraping and scrapping as the quarry wiggles free. Occasionally the ball becomes airborne before being tamed again by the pack of hungry cyclists, circling like piranhas in a rough sea of grey tower blocks and crumbling concrete. They sail around smoothly before one casually, but decisively, puts the little orb between the traffic cones.”
Die fast philosophische Deutung stammt aus einem Artikel des Huckmagazine.