Fame and the game

Opposite Michael Butler This page, from top Butler (left), with his brother Frank and sister Jorie in 1933; and showjumping circa 1948

Polo has had more infuence on my life than anything else. It all started with the ponies we had as children. The three of us – myself and my siblings, Jorie and Frank – used to ride around Oak Brook, the several-thousand-acre plot of land in Illinois that had been acquired by my grandfather, Frank O Butler, and which had been used for cattle and horses. Back in those days, it was scarcely known. My father, who inherited the property, had a passion for polo and, in 1922, with my grandfather’s help, built the frst polo feld there.

It was an idyllic life for us children. We would roam around, riding and fox hunting, and ice skating on frozen ponds in the winter. Meanwhile, my father continued to develop it, adding more polo felds, a golf course and an archery range. There were 16 farmhouses, each one a home for some of his friends, who were primarily polo players or fox hunters. There was also an airstrip, used frequently by players visiting from all over the country.

Unfortunately, my riding experience was abruptly interrupted when I broke my right arm in a nasty accident involving a downward trapdoor and several rusty nails. Because my arm had no movement in it, polo was out and I concentrated instead on showjumping. I had high hopes of becoming a professional, and in my frst major competition down in Memphis, I won $500. I was very proud that day.

Later, I began to move more into fox hunting. We had two packs at Oak Brook: a drag pack and a live fox pack, and I became obsessed with the sport. I ended up attending the University of Virginia, and there, after one year, the dean told my father, ‘We have a serious problem with your son. He is only able to attend school on Sunday, when there are no classes.’ Dad was confused – until he realised I was fox hunting six days a week with three different packs.

Meanwhile, back at Oak Brook, polo was becoming even more predominant. In 1954, Meadowbrook, on Long Island – the polo capital of the country – was sold, which meant the USPA didn’t have a home for the US Open. My father offered to create that home at Oak Brook and, in 1954, started building 14 polo felds and 400 stalls to take care of the teams.

In the late 1950s, I was doing some work, mostly in the Middle East, for the Butler Overseas Company. I returned to Oak Brook and my sister Jorie and I started to share the running of the polo grounds. One afternoon, my father called me to the polo wing and told me that Colonel Prem Singh, the polo-playing Indian maharaja, was not coming to Oak Brook that summer. ‘Why don’t you take his ponies and join the team? ’ he suggested. I couldn’t believe my ears! I was to play alongside my father, which meant the world to me, Jackie Murphy, one of my closest friends, and the globally top-ranked Cecil Smith. I entered into an intense period of practice and lessons from Cecil and Jackie, who mostly told me, ‘Hit the ball! Hit the ball! ’

As well as being active in the management side of the club and the Butler Company at that time, I was elected as a governor for the USPA Central Circuit and became actively involved in polo politics. The US Open was now under pressure from the Chinese/Hawaiian Tongg family, who wanted to host it at the Santa Barbara Polo Club, which they were running at that time. This created a lot of trouble among USPA board members – to the point of racist remarks being made. My father pooh-poohed the whole thing and, in 1966, the Open was transferred to Santa Barbara. Later, it went to Memphis. Neither place worked, however, because it was very hard to compete with Oak

This page, from below left An aerial view of Oak Brook in 1954; its stable block Opposite, clockwise from top The Butler family in Florida circa 1977; a poster for Hair, the musical; Butler, third from left, with Mike and Fred Dailey, Tony Devitch and other members of the Warfeld team, winners of 1972 Dublin Phoenix Park Irish Gold Cup

Brook – being so close to Chicago, the club was very central. It returned to hosting the Open, and continued to do so right up until 1978.

Another USPA issue that arose during my time as a governor was the question of ladies being registered as players. This reached a crescendo with Sue Sally Hale – many of my fellow governors were violently against her registration. A couple of them went as far as to say they would resign if women were allowed to play polo. The governors’ meeting was to be held at the Everglades Club in Palm Beach that year – and our home in Palm Beach was within the Everglades compound. Jorie and I discussed this problem with our father over breakfast and suggested a solution that he accepted. He went to the meeting and said, ‘What if I propose Jorie as a USPA player and then have her registered as such? ’ When the opposing governors heard this suggestion, they immediately knew the jig was up and Sue Sally Hale was soon registered. It was a great new beginning for polo in the United States.

I continued to be actively involved with polo at Oak Brook throughout the 1960s, and was particularly involved with the efforts of Otto Kerner to be re-elected as Governor of Illinois. We had a major tournament tied to the Illinois Sports Council, of which I was

chairman. The success of this event, and Otto’s re-election, paved the way for me to enter politics and, in 1967, I decided that I would run for the US Senate.

My patrons were Governor Kerner and Mayor Daley of Chicago. I wound up going down to New York with Governor Kerner for the US Civil Rights Commission, which he was chairing. While there, I went to the preview of a musical called Hair and thought it was the strongest anti-war statement I’d ever seen. I wanted it to be brought to Chicago and have my constituents see it, but it wasn’t possible.

A couple of days later, on my return home, I met with my political PR man, Hal Evry. ‘Michael,’ he said, ‘you can win this election to the US Senate, but you’re going to have to

change your lifestyle – and polo will be history.’ That, coupled with various other events, would make a political career diffcult. So when I was called by Joe Papp, the founder of the Public Theater, to get involved with Hair, I did. And at that point, my whole life changed.

Hair opened at the end of April 1968. Shortly after, I left Oak Brook and moved to Montecito in California, where I joined the Santa Barbara Polo Club. Ronnie Tongg, son of Rudy, was managing the club, and we began to play polo together. When he fnished law school, I invited him to be my personal lawyer and the lawyer for Hair. It was the beginning of a great friendship and a strong, lasting professional relationship.

One day, Ronnie remarked, ‘You know, if you really want to experience the best polo, the place to go is England.’ So that was it – we decided to go. After teaming up with the Linfoots, Heath Manning – one of my best friends from South Carolina – and Tony Devitch, we shipped our horses and arrived in Britain in the early 1970s. We had an incredible season, winning almost every tournament we entered, and Hair had a very successful run in London.

Ronnie was right about British polo. Not only was the sport beautifully organised – it was a lot more fun. One of the most interesting experiences I had involved Prince Philip. We were in the changing room at Guards and he asked me, ‘Michael, if you weren’t producing, what would you do? You were in politics beforehand, weren’t you? ’ I said, ‘Sir, I would like to be your butler at Hampton Court Palace

and I would want 10 per cent of everything that went in and out, and the casting privileges for the upstairs maids and the footmen.’ He thought that was very funny.

I soon decided I wanted to buy a place in Britain and spend more time there. My lady, Boo Brassy, one day happened to see Warfeld Hall, a house built in the 1700s that was now owned by Italian shipping magnates who were not living there but had sort of gussied it up. I ended up buying it, bringing in an architect and returning it to its original architectural form. It was a wonderful place to live.

Shortly after we moved in, Tony Devitch, who had played alongside me continuously, introduced me to Stuart Mackenzie, who joined our team. Another player, Mike Dailey from Hawaii, had played with me at Oak Brook and become a very close friend. His father, Fred, also came to Britain and joined us for some games. Mike and Stuart became key members of the Warfeld team, and Sandy Harper occasionally joined in the action. A great time was had by all, the highlight being two Gold Cup wins, in 1972 and 1973.

Unfortunately, however, I was experiencing continual problems with the USPA. The chairman, Bill Ylvisaker, was a personal friend, but we had different opinions about the money scene in polo and what it would do to the sport. Through my many trips to New York, I had become close to Ralph Lauren and respected him enormously. So I started to make a real cause for the USPA to join up with Polo Ralph Lauren. I thought it would be a great opportunity for both sides, but I faced considerable opposition from George Haas, Bill Ylvisaker and a couple of others. This began to cloud my relationship with the USPA because it really took a ruthless position on the matter. I think time has proven them wrong.

Around this time, Patrick Beresford and I started chatting about a wild idea to have an

Opposite, from top The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh present the Jaipur Cup to (from left) Michael Butler, Heath Manning, Billy Linfoot and Ronnie Tongg; Warfeld Hall in Berkshire, Butler’s former home This page, from top Butler with Mike Dailey, president of the Hawaii Polo Club, circa 1974, after they had won the Delegates Cup in the Florida USPA; the writer during rehearsals of Hair in 1968

international match between the USA and England. I had a fair number of ponies at Warfeld, and an American called Hap Sharp had a lot down at Cowdray that we could use. So Patrick went to the Queen and asked her if we could play for a new Coronation Cup, the last having been held back in 1953.

We decided to hold the frst match, in 1971, at Cowdray, where it was very well received. However, as fond as I was of the Cowdray family, I thought we ought to move it the following year to Guards at Windsor, because it was closer to London and we could therefore sell the match better. Ronnie Ferguson, the club’s manager, helped us and did a fantastic job promoting it.

There was an agreement with the HPA that in the case of the medium-goal matches, comprised mostly of younger people, there would be no professionals involved. This came into serious question during the second year at Guards. Bill Ylvisaker wanted his son to compete, but he was not strong enough to play without a professional, so Corky Linfoot was added to the team, despite my objections. This addition violated my agreement with the HPA and I had already put together my team, headed by Mike Dailey. Nonetheless, I was overruled by the USPA – a decision that ultimately ended our relationship.

Although I wanted to live primarily in Britain, we started having some problems with the Hair flm project, so I had to return to the USA. I started playing again at the Santa Barbara Polo Club and had a great time with Glen Holden, who had done a terrifc job in reorganising it after Ronnie Tongg had returned to Hawaii to care for his father.

Then a dreadful thing happened with the Hair flm: we lost our director to drugs. His absence left a major hole in the production and we frantically tried to reorganise everything. Exhausted by the situation, I decided to return to Oak Brook. I shipped the ponies back home and left Britain for good just before the flm was released. My plan was to get myself together, then return to the West Coast for more work in the entertainment business. Tragically, on 24 June 1981 – the day after his 89th birthday – my father was knocked down and killed by

a car as he walked to his girlfriend’s cottage. As a consequence, I had to take over and manage both the Oak Brook Development Company and the Butler Company.

Until 1991, I continued to work at Oak Brook and manage the polo club, among other things. I developed a plan to have international teams visit and play there while I built a social-events programme around the tournaments. It was easy to fnd sponsors and the whole polo scene really thrived. I remember supplying Prince Charles with ponies for the 1986 International Cup at Oak Brook – the only time he played in the United States with an all-British team – and they won.

Nothing could compare with the effect polo has had on my life. It became the major governing factor, infuencing all my activities, my scheduling, where I lived and a great number of the people with whom I spent time. It was particularly wonderful to be able to compete in a sport I’d been told I would not be able to play again. I enjoyed putting together winning teams and, maybe more so, running the clubs and dealing with the international community. People, ponies and pleasure: I hold those things dear to my heart.