It had to happen eventually.
After a thirty year span, I fell off a horse again yesterday.
We were at the back of the pack when someone hit the ball backward. The horse in front of us turned, and my horse panicked and went sideways about three feet. I failed to make the lateral transition with him and ended up in the dirt. (As a side note: yes, this horse was spooked by another horse. I begin to see why he is no longer playing professional polo.)
In retrospect, it might have been wiser to find out the horse’s name before I got on. In this case, it turned out to be “Ono” or “Oh No!”. No matter how you spell it, that’s not a good name.
As falls go, it wasn’t bad. I landed on my side, but I didn’t get trampled, and I didn’t even get the wind knocked out of me. My hip is turning purple, my left shoulder is a bit off, and I have an odd lump on one shin, but the biggest bruise was to my pride.
As I climbed back to my feet, Ono had his head up and tail straight out as he did a victory lap around the entire arena.