Sometimes it surprises me to realise how much I know about something that I don't really know about at all. Polo is one of those things. I suppose that, after the number of hours I have spent at the side of a polo field, over a lot of years, it is not unreasonable to be familiar with the rules of the game and to understand the basics, but at the point that I started to recognise names of players, and even to know who they were if I saw them, I started to consider myself something more than a novice. While I wouldn't call myself a fan of the sport I have to concede that there is something very special about standing on a summer day watching horses tearing around at enormous speed, passing so close that you can feel them - and the sound of those thundering hooves is quite amazing. What I hated about polo days was that, in order to get a place around the presentation area, you had to get right across the polo field, and at that point of the day you were reminded, yet again, how vast these pitches are. I am not built for running, and it is something that I simply do not do, but the prospect of ending up standing behind a mass of people who had poured off the stands positioned each side of the royal box, and seeing absolutely nothing, was enough to make me scurry across the grass, lagging far behind any friends with whom I had been until that point, and hoping that someone would let me squeeze in beside them once I arrived. I was also very conscious of how completely ridiculous we looked, charging towards the royal box, to those sitting on the balcony watching us!! I cannot explain how happy I was when I was offered a photographer's armband for polo matches, plus a car parking permit which meant I could avoid the machine in the usual car park, and I enjoyed the many summers without any running very much indeed. This benefit also came with an area in front of the spectators to take photos, meaning I no longer ended up in the wrong place when the position of the presentation table was randomly changed, and could stand on the side of the area without the sun straight in my face - they were happy times!

It was also a bonus if one of the princes had been playing as then we were treated to seeing The Queen greeting her son or grandsons with a kiss as she presented their prizes.

I always thought that Her Majesty, whose default facial expression was quite serious, had several different smiles. The polo smile was a real beaming smile, looking directly up into the eyes of player after player as she handed out prizes at the end of matches at Smiths Lawn, virtually in her own back garden at Windsor Castle - for images of Her Majesty wearing summer dresses without coats and with a guaranteed smile, polo was the place to go.