Though he may poke fun (poke tongue?) at the photographer, this fellow is exhibiting the pure, ecstatic bliss that all of us polo’ers feel on the court. An overwhelming rush of… well, what you see here.
In examining this composition (the world as curated by yours truly), the symmetry is really what stuck out. I mean, the fence-turned-diamondy-pattern is great. Love it. Really. Though it’s hard to look at for long, what with the jittery effect it has on the eyes (not unlike the aforementioned pleasurousness intensity).
But that mirrored-ness led me to think about how the basis of sport is essentially symmetry, of equality, of two teams of three on identically dimensioned halves of courts, and on and on. But asymmetric by the measure of skill, of style, of experience. Of which hand holds the mallet.