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High-speed thrills and handlebar nosedives: Mike White tries bike polo.

The Hartcliffe end of Bedminster can be a forbidding place after dark. I pause to check my A-Z and a group of foul-mouthed tweenagers begins abusing me from a nearby bus stop. A can is thrown. I scarper, cycling on through the estate – pebble-dash semis, cars on bricks – and swerve up a one-way street into a dark dead-end surrounded by razor wire. This is tonight’s practice venue? Just as I’m thinking about bottling it, a saviour rolls up – polo mallets strapped to his crossbar, his cycling cap signifying ‘friend’. Asbo-yoof don’t wear cycling caps. This is Rich Miller, a lynchpin of the Bristol bike polo scene. We are in the right place. Through a locked gate, past a spiked fence and round a corner to the looming bulk of an old sports hall. Half a dozen bikes lean against the walls inside, the wooden floor skid-marked by battles gone by. The windows are all boarded up; the heating’s off. It’s all a bit ‘Fight Club’, except this is one of the friendliest little gangs I’ve had the pleasure to meet.

There’s Eli, 11, a bright-eyed chatterbox who explains the rules in a breathless flurry. I think I catch the basics. Play takes place on a hard rectangular court with a small goal at each end. You ride a bicycle and use a mallet to hit a ball into said goal. Games last 10 minutes. Three players per team, first team to score five goals wins. If you put a foot down, you have to go to the middle of the pitch and ‘tap out’ (knock your mallet on the floor). That’s about it. At the other end of the age range from Eli is Reg, 63: “I’m from the old folks’ home across the road,” he laughs. I’m not sure if he’s joking or not. I soon discover he can ride rings around me on the court (as can Eli). Age really is just a number in bike polo. In between are self-assured Alfie (12) and his older brother Robbie; Leah, just into her teens; ‘Cab’ who reminds me of a young Billy Connolly; Juan, a mental health worker in his thirties (“I’ve never enjoyed anything so much that I’ve been so sh*t at”); and another thirtysomething called James, who’s founder of the Bristol Bike Project. I’m borrowing his bike, a lean black machine with a big yellow disc covering the front wheel.

If you’ve heard anything about bike polo at all, you’ll probably have a mental image of hipsters poncing about on fixies, and an unbearable ache of trendiness. Wrong on all counts: this is a friendly, inclusive bunch, and it’s all about fun, not fashion. Although enjoying a global resurgence at the moment, bike polo has a long and glorious tradition – it was probably invented in the late 1800s and even featured at the 1908 London Olympic Games as a demonstration sport. Originally the game was played on grass; its modern, urban descendant is Hardcourt Bike Polo, which makes use of basketball courts, skateparks and places like tonight’s humble sports hall. For a full and fascinating insight into the game, check the current issue (number 7) of the Bristol-made magazine Boneshaker (www.boneshakermag.com).

And so to battle. Rear wheels against the goal-end wall, we wait. Someone shouts “polo!” and both teams charge for the ball, which waits on the centre spot. I get there first, squeeze the brakes and fly straight over the handlebars. This particular bike, you see, has both front and back brake levers on the same side, so you can brake and still keep one hand free to hold the mallet. Evidently I squeezed the wrong lever. As I type this, my wrists still ache from that handlebar-dive; my knees are a greenish blue-black. Beginner’s bruises, I’m reassured – accidents tend to be low speed (comically so, in my case) and it's rare for anyone to get seriously hurt.

Watching the expert Rich in action – looping gracefully around the court, the ball tapped and cupped in close by the mallet-head so that it’s always within inches of him – it’s easy to see the artistry in bike polo. But whilst anyone can join in and have fun, getting good takes dedication. You have to keep your eye on at least five things at once: the ball, your mallet, the goal, where your bike’s heading and where everyone else is. Focus too much on watching ball and mallet, and you’re likely to crash, I soon discover, swerving around Juan’s front wheel and falling off again. Over a couple of hours of casual ‘throw-in’ games, I gradually improve, even smacking in a couple of goals. I learn not to ride straight into the corners, that positioning the bike is all-important, that successful passing is nowhere near as easy as it looks. In the closing seconds of my final game, I’m racing down the court, open goal before me, ball within striking distance. I turn in behind it as it rolls, swing the mallet up, touch the brakes… and go flying over the handlebars again. A round of applause erupts as I pick myself up. It was so nearly a triumphant finish…

It’s fast, friendly and fun – polo with horses may be the sport of kings; polo with bikes is the sport of everyman (or woman). One thing I should make clear at this point: I’m not a ‘sport’ type of person. The merest mention of football gets me yawning. I’m not remotely competitive. I wasn’t in any teams at school (unless you count cross-country running, which I only did because I like the countryside and being on my own). But bike polo, even after only a couple of hours, has got a hold on me. See you in court?

BRISTOL BIKE POLO HAPPENS EVERY TUESDAY AT CAMPUS SKATEPARK, BEDMINSTER AND EVERY THURSDAY AT DAME EMILY PARK FIVE-A-SIDE COURTS. OTHER MEETS ARE ARRANGED VIA THE FACEBOOK GROUP. TO GET INVOLVED, SEE TINYURL.COM/BRISBIKEPOLO OR WWW.CAMPUS-SKATEPARK.CO.UK FOR BATH BIKE POLO, CHECK TINYURL.COM/BATHBIKEPOLO FFI: HTTP://VIMEO.COM/29327306

Kit list

Want to get some polo in your life? Here's how to start:

Get a bike – anything that you can steer with one hand while whacking a ball with the other. Low gear helps, as does a decent back brake. Narrow flat bars are good for weaving through gaps. Single speed (i.e. no gears) reduces mechanical hassles and means there’s less to break. Strong wheels are important as these bear the brunt in collisions, accidental mallet whacks and so on. You can make wheel covers out of an old estate agent's sign – just cut to the same diameter as your wheel, cut out a hole for the hub and a slot so it fits snugly, then zip-tie it on. Full instructions here: tinyurl.com/makewheel.

Make a mallet – easier than it sounds. Get a secondhand ski-pole (try charity shops or eBay) and bolt its thin end through a sawn-off piece of plastic pipe. Full instructions here: tinyurl.com/malletmake and here: tinyurl.com/malletmake2

Other stuff - like helmets, gloves and knee pads are optional at beginner level. Some wear 'em, some don’t. Give it a try first; pad up later if you feel the need.

Copyright Mike White 2011