By Prof. Eduardo Amaya

A perceptive and biomechanical alliance is formed between the player and the horse.

Polo is a fast-paced sport where decisions must be made within seconds. From this arises a very unique form of communication — what we call fine handling. Not many players possess this quality. It is not merely about controlling the horse through technique, as many believe, but rather about achieving a dynamic intimacy, where two beings — player and horse — understand each other beyond defined or explicit language.

This intimacy is an invisible dance, forged over time, emphasizing the sensitivity and deep attention of one to the other. Biomechanically, the polo player’s body becomes an extension of the natural aids; every slight shift in weight, every muscle contraction or release has a direct effect on the horse’s balance and distribution of force.

In tight turns, for example, a player who has cultivated this intimacy does not need to use force. With a subtle lean of the body, grounded through the stirrups, and the activation of the outer leg’s adductor muscle, the player can initiate a clean, fluid turn in which the horse’s hindquarters engage without losing power or time.

Here, the horse’s biomechanics respond to micro-stimuli, as if it were connected to the player by an internal thread or shared perception cable. From the perspective of the game’s character, this intimacy manifests in mutual anticipation.

When the horse braces just before the player fully cues it, or positions itself to strike the ball without resistance, it is responding not only to physical signals but to an emotional state or an intention pattern it has learned to recognize. This phenomenon is called implicit intention reading. It also occurs in team sports among humans — the perfect pass, the precise coverage. This is mirror movement.

The polo horse, then, is not merely ridden; it becomes a sensitive reader of the player’s body and spirit. Thus, the skilled polo player not only guides, but listens, adapts, and at times, lets himself be led.

During long runs, the player who can release the reins without losing control — freeing the contact — has reached that state in which both share a common rhythm, as if two hearts were beating as one.

Finally, the intimacy of fine handling holds both aesthetic and ethical value: it is not built through force, but through collaboration. It is the result of respecting the horse’s language, of having trained and worked attentively and without violence for as long as necessary, and of understanding that true control over the horse does not lie in dominance, but in shared movement.