June 2021 Polo Players' Edition - Friends Lost

Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, beloved husband of Queen Elizabeth II, passed away on April 9, at Windsor Castle. His funeral procession and ceremony took place on Saturday, April 17, on the sun-filled grounds of the castle and in St. George’s Chapel, where he was interred.

Philip was born on the island of Corfu in the Ionian Sea and at the time was sixth in the line of succession to the Greek throne. His original name at the time of his birth on June 10, 1921, was Philippos, Prince of Greece and Denmark, and was later known as Philip Mountbatten.

Homer himself could hardly have painted a more dramatic portrait of a character who navigated gutwrenching twists of luck and destiny. Born in the cross hairs of historical chaos, Philip lived in the limelight of public attention and—his fatal flaw— occasionally provoked explosive controversy with a hasty remark. What should be of overriding interest to readers of these pages, however, is the fact that the prince became a convert to and a lifelong booster of modern polo as well as other equestrian sports.

Philip’s mother, Princess Alice of Battenberg, was born in Windsor Castle in 1885, a greatgranddaughter of Queen Victoria. Although her parents were more German than British, Alice was raised as an English princess. London was the main residence of Alice’s family but she also spent time in Malta as her father, an officer in the Royal Navy, was sometimes stationed there. It was on the island of Malta that modern polo was first played in Europe, in 1868.

At only 17 years of age Princess Alice met a distant relative, Prince Andrew of Greece and Denmark, with whom she quickly became infatuated. Upon marrying Prince Andrew in 1903 Alice became Princess Andrew of Greece and Denmark. In the 10 years after marrying into what turned out to be the most unstable royal family in Europe, Alice mothered four daughters. She even managed to win over an increasingly anti-monarchist Greek public, for a time. Prince Andrew, however, never truly devoted to his wife and children, often ignored them.

By 1912, Greece was sinking into a state of political turmoil as another brutal war in a series of conflicts broke out with Turkey. On March 18, 1913, Andrew’s father, King George I, was assassinated by a Greek anarchist eerily presaging the similar event the following year in Sarajevo that would ignite a massive global war. Andrew’s eldest brother, Constantine, ascended the throne as Constantine I after his father’s death.

In 1914, when The Great War began, Prince Andrew continued to visit Britain as he had done in the past, but since his brother, the king, declared neutrality for Greece in order to stay out of the war, the British began to suspect that Andrew was a German asset. King Constantine and his government fought so furiously over the country’s neutrality policy that in June 1917, public support turned against the monarch and he was forced to abdicate. The Greek royal family, including Alice, her husband, and their children, fled the country to exile in Switzerland.

The empty throne was soon offered to and accepted by Alexander, the second son of the recently deposed Constantine. Incredibly, Constantine was restored to the throne after King Alexander died of blood poisoning after being bitten by a monkey. Alice and her family returned to Greece to give it another try and moved into Mon Repos, a villa on Corfu that had once belonged to Andrew’s father.

But political pandemonium continued when the

restored monarch reversed his previous policy (which he reckoned had cost him his throne in 1917) and launched another attack on Turkey. This action in due course produced a disastrous military defeat for Greece with the result that Andrew and a handful of other military scapegoats were arrested, tried, and sentenced to be shot. In the middle of this episode, Alice gave birth to a fifth child—Philip—on the kitchen table of their island home. Not long afterwards, King George V of England succeeded in helping Prince Andrew to flee. The family boarded a British warship and sailed away into another humiliating exile with the baby Prince Philip stowed in an orange crate as a makeshift cradle. The other unlucky defendants were duly executed.

Alice’s life as a conventional royal princess was suddenly over. Denied entry to the U.K as the wartime neutrality issue still rankled, the bedraggled family arrived in Paris as refugees who had lost not only their fortune but also their sense of purpose. Eventually her husband moved on to southern France with a new mistress while Alice’s mental state entered a long decline.

Philip’s sisters were married off, one-by-one, to German aristocrats who joined the Nazi Party after Hitler dismissed the Weimar Republic in 1932. Princess Alice eventually suffered a full nervous breakdown and was forcibly institutionalized by her family for five years. Young Phillip, still bearing the title of Prince of Greece and Denmark, drifted ashore in England and was taken under the wings of his Mountbatten uncles, brothers George and Louis. At this point an opportunity for Philip to attend the venerable Cheam School presented itself.

Although an outsider, Philip quickly adapted to the life of an English schoolboy, proving himself both a good student and an enthusiastic participant in athletic games. He was not bullied as he towered over most of his classmates and possessed a mature self confidence beyond his years.

In 1933, Philip’s sister Theodora and her husband, Berthold, Margrave of Baden, moved into Schloss Kirchberg in Salem, Germany, and convinced those other members of the extended family who had been collectively looking after Philip that it would be a splendid thing if her young brother were to join her family there and attend Schule Schloss Salem, which they owned. This was when Hitler seized full power and began his evil Nazification of every aspect of German society.

Kurt Hahn, the Jewish headmaster of Schule Schloss Salem publicly denounced the new Fuhrer and was quickly arrested and thrown in prison. Representations from the U.K. were made and the brave fellow was allowed to leave the Reich. With the help of friends, Hahn transferred to Scotland and founded Gordonstoun School and carried on with his career as an innovative educationalist. Philip stayed on at Salem for the term but, after Hitler’s bloody “Night of the Long Knives” purge, his father stepped in and insisted that his son return to England. There he entered Hahn’s new establishment and continued his studies.

As Philip progressed through the grades at Gordonstoun School he lost one of his benefactors, in 1938, when his uncle George died soon after suffering an injury. Now exclusively under the mentorship of Louis Mountbatten, Philip was encouraged to steer towards a naval career as his uncle felt his young nephew was well suited to follow this family tradition.

Philip had doubtless at least considered polo by this time as “Uncle Dickie” Mountbatten had written and published his book, An Introduction to Polo, several years before and had a polo field at his rented country estate of Adsdean House in Surrey. Mountbatten had even patented a design for a modern polo mallet head in this period—the first person to do so—establishing himself as a recognized polo expert committed to the process of improving and refining the ancient game that the British had discovered in Manipur nearly a century before.

But Philip’s career as a poloist never got off the ground before cascading events cut it short. War was imminent by 1939 when, having finished his studies

Prince Philip speaks with Pablo RincónGallardo during a trip to Mexico, 1964. Behind them, left, is Jesus “Chucho” Solórzano.

Philip learned the game from his uncle, Louis Mountbatten. He hung up his mallets for good in 1971. at Gordonstoun with distinction, he hung up his mallets and entered the The Royal Naval College at Dartmouth. His naval career there was accelerated by the rising tempo of events and the officer cadet, after graduating at the top of his class, soon found himself a midshipman at sea— but not before he had gotten The Galloping Game under his skin and, more importantly, made the acquaintance of the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of King George VI and his royal consort, Queen Elizabeth, during a royal visit to Dartmouth.

By 1940, Philip was in action in the Indian Ocean on board HMS Ramillies. Later he served in HMS Valiant and in 1941, was mentioned in dispatches for his part in the Battle of Cape Matapan, which dealt the Italian fleet a crucial blow in the Eastern Mediterranean. Two months later, Louis Mountbatten, who was in command of HMS Kelly, lost his ship and half his crew in the Battle of Crete where Philip was also fighting. When the two met up in Egypt shortly after the latter incident, Mountbatten was still stained with oil—and his young nephew responded with one of his first cheeky comments, which would come back to haunt him.

In 1942, Philip’s days as an apprentice sailor were long behind him as he rapidly made sub-lieutenant, then lieutenant, and was appointed one of the youngest first lieutenants in the Royal Navy, serving as second in command of HMS Wallace in the North Sea.

On a few brief occasions during the war the young officer visited the royal family. His growing interest in the Princess Elizabeth—and hers in him—became a subject of discreet mention between her parents and among other royal family intimates. It goes without saying that just one of the passions they shared was a deep love of horses.

By the time Philip—Prince of Greece and Denmark still—got up his nerve to ask the king for his daughter’s hand in marriage in 1946, there is no doubt the pros and cons of the match had been thoroughly discussed and debated deep within the royal chambers. Certain problems may have been identified, e.g., 1. the prospective groom was not a citizen of the U.K. (solved: he would renounce all other nationalities, join the Church of England and apply for British status); 2. he had a royal title, but a foreign one (solved: he would renounce this also); 3. he had a foreign-sounding name (solved: he officially adopted the anglicized name of Mountbatten); 4. he was a serving officer in the Royal Navy and had little money (solved: he would be engaged to the future Queen of England and would resign his commission, if required).

That latter solution might have stuck in the future father-in-law’s royal craw, but if it did, the wise king swallowed hard and chose to make his daughter and his wife simultaneously happy ever after—and made his obeisance to the inexorable forces of nature.

Hours before the wedding, King George VI bestowed the title His Royal Highness on the former Philip of Greece and Denmark and proclaimed him Duke of Edinburgh, Earl of Merioneth and Baron Greenwich—a royal re-minted!

Elizabeth arrived mid-morning at Westminster Abbey on Nov. 20, 1947, with her father, the king, in the resplendent Irish State Coach. The ceremony was officiated by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Geoffrey Fisher, and the Archbishop of York, Cyril Garbett. The event was broadcast by BBC Radio to millions of people around the world.

After a reception and ball at Buckingham Palace (which surely was a snorter!) the newlyweds boarded a train to Hampshire at Waterloo Station to spend their first wedding night at Broadlands, the home of Philip’s uncle (by then Earl Mountbatten of Burma and the last Viceroy of India; Edwina Mountbatten had inherited the property in 1939). From there the couple traveled to Birkhall on the Balmoral Estate where seasonal rains hopefully kept them focused on indoor activities for the remainder of their honeymoon.

Soon the couple moved to Malta where Philip was posted, given his first command, and where polo grounds and a gentle winter climate awaited. But the prince refused the Call to Adventure at first (which came mainly from his mentor Uncle Dickie) until he fully realized his wife was an ardent fan of the game. Before he left Malta to sadly resign his commission and abandon his cherished naval career, he had begun to play—and the hook was set.

Not for the first time in the life of Philip of Greece circumstances engulfed him. At this point it was the almost inevitable likelihood of Elizabeth’s ascent to the throne, which would dictate from then on the direction his life would take. Little did he realize the moment was only months away. On Feb. 6, 1952, the king’s valet entered the royal bedchamber at Sandringham with His Majesty’s morning tea before another planned day of hare hunting to find his sovereign cold and still. Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, had now to fully embrace his office of Royal Consort, one that he may not have relished but which duty he performed to the best of his ability for the remainder of his life.

For the rest and recreation side of things, the duke moved on to a career as an international polo player, eventually achieving a respectable 5-goal Hurlingham Polo Association handicap. He arranged polo activities to coincide with his official tours when he could and booked dedicated polo junkets to many countries when he dared, including Canada, Argentina, Chile, Mexico, New Zealand, Jamaica, and many more (much to the consternation of Treasury officials!).

He also won some notable tournaments and was “mentioned in dispatches” for his performance in numerous others. Philip had occasion to win the British Open Gold Cup at Cowdray Park, the Royal Windsor Cup, and the Cowdray Park Challenge. His Windsor Park team reached a final in a tournament in Boca Raton, Florida. He played in the Hurlingham Open in Argentina with the Heguy brothers, and in Mexico with Pablo Rincón-Gallardo. This is just a partial segment of a very long list.

Philip distinguished himself as a benefactor and promoter of the game in a number of ways and helped to rebuild its organizations and infrastructures in the United Kingdom after the war. These efforts included support for British Pony Club Association competitions, specifically designed to encourage young riders by providing them with opportunities in polo and other equestrian disciplines—including access to horses—that they might not be able to reach on their own. Numerous charities benefited from the proceeds of various polo, carriage driving, and other equestrian events promoted by Philip, including Riding for Disabled Association, of which his daughter, Princess Anne, is still a director.

Philip’s greatest legacy to his oft-declared favorite sport was doubtless the creation of the Guards Polo Club, now the largest in Europe in terms of membership, number of grounds, and prestigious tournaments. Conveniently located near his own backyard on the edge of Windsor Great Park, the club is set in the stunning natural surroundings of Smith’s Lawn, formerly a relief landing ground and base for British and Allied military aircraft during World War II. The duke, an RAF-trained pilot, who sometimes flew his own aircraft to distant appointments, was the last person to officially fly from the airfield in 1953. He founded the polo club there in 1955 and served as club president for an astonishing 66 years.

The Duke of Edinburgh hung up his mallets for the last time in 1971, transferring his equestrian focus to the growing sport of competitive carriage driving—a slightly more sedate pursuit, perhaps, but still providing enough danger to hold his interest. He served as president of the International Equestrian Federation from 1964 to 1986, during which time he was involved in defining the rules and regulations for several equestrian sports, including carriage driving.

The Duke of Edinburgh was a nobleman of the old school. More outspoken than diplomatic, he was in many ways a paradox: gregarious yet a loner, courageous but cool under fire, a quintessential sportsman who hated to lose, an environmentalist and a hunter, a cultured gentleman and a blunt critic. Ever dedicated to his family and his adopted church and country, he was all this and much, much more. Love him or loathe him—but do not expect to see his like again.

April was a month of deep sorrow for the Argentine and international polo families. Three former polo association presidents passed away within a matter of weeks.

First, we said goodbye to Marcos Uranga on April 8. Then, on April 19, Luis Alberto Lalor died and just five days later, on April 24, Francisco Dorignac suffered a heart attack that ended his life. The deaths created a sudden lapse of deep pain.

Marcos Uranga left a global legacy that no one will ever forget. Born in Buenos Aires in 1936, Uranga was the son of Susana Rey and Carlos, an outstanding polo player, board member and also the one who scored the first goal on the Palermo fields at the inauguration in 1928.

In 1969, Marcos married Silvia Rueda and together they had seven children (Marcos Jr., Delfin, Paula, Diego, Juan and Mariano) and more than 20 grandchildren. His son Delfín, was a member of the national team that won the third FIP World Cup in 1992 in Santiago, Chile.

Uranga always highlighted having played and won the first Polo Clubs World Cup, a tournament with 24 teams (12 with Argentine polo players and another 12 with foreigners), giving him the idea to start an international polo federation. Vice president of the AAP at the time, he began expanding the concept and idea of establishing the FIP.

In 1982, the AAP invited all national associations to a meeting with the aim of joining forces to have a voice in the International Olympic Committee, promote competitions, unify the rules of polo and continue developing the sport. However, the World Cup initiative with national teams was initially resisted because no one wanted to compete head-tohead with Argentina.

After that meeting at the Jockey Club in San Isidro, the FIP was born with Marcos Uranga as president, a position he held until 1997. He also served as polo association president from 1983-1987.

“If we can’t play because the others don’t have the stars we have, let’s have a more accessible handicap competition,” offered Uranga at the time. That was the birth of the 14-goal World Cup. The first one was held in Buenos Aires in 1987 and was a logistical challenge for that time. The transportation of horses from different parts of the world was very expensive. So, Uranga summoned the Argentine breeders association and incorporated them into the project.

Horses were gathered and fairly divided among the teams, a system used today by host countries. Complicating matters, the Falklands War between Argentina and the United Kingdom caused the Commonwealth to boycott the competition.

Uranga himself later recalled the enormous task in putting the competition together.

“It was a very unpleasant situation. But with Glen Holden we decided that we had to convince the world that this was something international, beyond the barriers of one country,” Uranga said. “So, we started to travel and we went to Asian countries, where there is more history and tradition of polo. In India we met the Maharajas, who played a lot with each other. And the one from Jaipur, who had always played with his father, decided to donate a cup to us to make a world championship”

He also wanted to promote polo globally.

“My goal was to create a large and international polo family, a group of people heterogeneous in nationality, but homogeneous thanks to their affinity to polo. I believe that the goal of sport is to unite people, nations and, most importantly, the family. We must practice sport internationally with young people and not focus on competition, but on camaraderie among all … If we want to grow, we must renew ourselves; sport is constantly evolving and that is how the federation should remain. I have started a project that has grown worldwide, reaching remote locations such as China, growing ties through nations, personalities, governments, players and family: it is the greatest legacy I can leave.”

Uranga, who passed away at the age of 84, also held important positions outside polo. He was director of the National Bank of Argentina, had a leading role in the Argentine Rural Society and was second in charge at the Ministry of Agriculture.

Born on Sept. 24, 1928, Luis Alberto Lalor passed away on April 19 at 92 years old.

“Gallego” belonged to one of the most traditional families in this sport. Reaching an 8-goal handicap, he won the Argentine Open with Coronel Suarez in 1959. He also won the Hurlingham Open, and several other prestigious tournaments in Argentina, as well as the Deauville Gold Cup in France three times (1960, 1971, 1974).

He served as president of the Argentine Polo Association (1975-1981), a position held by his brother Alfredo (1969-1972) and later, his son Luis Eduardo Lalor (2009-2013).

Under his presidency, in 1975, the Match of the Century, a game commemorating the first polo match played in Argentina and the first in the history of world polo to be disputed at 80 goals, was held. The teams were called Venado Tuerto (Horacio Heguy, Gastón Dorignac, Juan C. Harriott Jr., Francisco Dorignac) and El Trébol (Alberto Pedro Heguy, Daniel Gonález, Gonzalo Tanoira, Alfredo Harriott) in memory of those who played the leading roles in the 40s. Venado Tuerto won, 7-6.

Lalor also played an important role in giving polo back its international momentum. After a decade without taking place, the Cup of the Americas was played again between Argentina and the United States. In both November 1979, in Palermo, and in May 1980, in San Antonio, Texas, Argentina defeated the United States.

Lalor was married to María Angélica Urquiza and was the father of five children (Angélica, Martina,

Luis E, Luz and Rocío), grandfather of 13 grandchildren (Victoria, Félix, Segundo, Lucas, Inés, Mía, Mateo, Abril, Santos, Pedro, Camila, Lola and Luz), and great-grandfather of two (Justo and Magnolia).

The polo community also lost Francisco Dorignac. Born in 1938, “Frankie” received a 10-goal handicap in 1963. A decade later, the team captain played Back for Santa Ana when the team won the Argentine Triple Crown. In addition, he won the Argentine Open Championship two other times (1971, 1982), as well as numerous other notable tournaments in Argentine. He also won the 1960 Gold Cups in both France and Spain.

Dorignac was a member of the Argentine national team that won the Cup of the Americas against the U.S. in 1966 and 1969. He also umpired the 1979 series.

He was president of the Tortugas Country Club from 1980 until his death. He also served three terms as president of the Argentine Polo Association (19871991, 2005-2009, 2013-2017). During his first term, he helped repair lingering conflicts with England’s polo community resulting from the Falklands War. He organized a team to play in England in 1988 as well as a reciprocal visit the following year, ending the standoff. In his last term, he focused on working with the pro players, improving umpiring and promoting and expanding the sport.

Dorignac passed away at the age of 84. Sadly, his death followed just days after his son, Emilio, passed away at the age of 43. Frankie’s wife María Marta died in 2014.

He leaves behind three children (Agustín, Valeria and Francisco) and 15 grandchildren.

It was a sad April of deep desolation with the departure of three men who have left an indelible mark on the world of polo.