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Ivy Lodge,
Cirencester Park Polo
Club, 1970s.
Opposite:
the Vestey Family (Mark,
behind and Ben, fifth
from left), Thorndale
Farm, 2016
In similar self-deprecating fashion, he would attribute
his success on the field in the Stowell Park and Foxcote
teams (the former my uncle’s and the latter his own)
as part fiscal firepower, part 10-goaler Eddie Moore’s
mercurial talent and part Hector Barrantes’s skill in
defence and visionary approach to managing the
provision of horses. While I would never question Uncle
Sam’s sporting commitment or prowess, presumably Dad
had a rare talent for playing well – or better still – with
a colossal hangover, as, by all accounts, prodigious dinner
parties bookended most matches.
In later years, as chairman of Cirencester Park Polo
Club and then the HPA, my father wanted the best for
the sport in the very broadest sense, and this earned
him a considerable amount of respect along the way.
Problems, when they arose, were dealt with over
a long lunch with the threat of a repeat lunch should
said problem not be resolved. He was viewed as a fair
mediator and a peerless diplomat and his neutrality
was no doubt helpful when it came to finding middle
ground, with the overlarge personalities involved
usually averse to pitching their tent there. Through a
combination of success on the field, then selfless service
off it, his legacy within the polo community is that of
a universally loved figure. That said, this wouldn’t
necessarily have been entirely to his liking, as agreement
negates the need for a prodigious lunch.
Polo aside, there was one occasion during a dinner
party at home that left a lasting impression on me as
a teenager, struggling manfully to keep up. Over port and
cigars, someone was being pompous about the difference
between new money and old money. My father shuffled
in his chair, took a puff and remarked, ‘The difference
between old money and new money is that new money
has
money.’ The conversation moved on. Pondering what
he’d said, I quietly asked him which we were. Without
skipping a beat, but with that familiar twinkle in his
eye, he replied, ‘Not nearly new enough, I’m afraid!’
D A D H A D A R A R E TA L E N T
F O R P L AY I N G W E L L – O R
B E T T E R S T I L L – W I T H A
C O L O S S A L H A N G O V E R
ALL IMAGES COURTESY OF THE VESTEY FAMILY
