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PAIGE CALAMARI

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In bike polo, someone shuffles the mallets and then tosses them out to participants to determine teams. At far left, Adam Szymkowicz of Amherst throws out the mallets before a recent game at Sheldon Field in Northampton.

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Brian Townsend of Granby takes a rest after the game.

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Jake Mazonson of Northampton moves the ball across the court.

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Nick Ungar, left, and Wills Kinsley, center, of Belchertown, and Jake Mazonson of Northampton, focus on the action at Sheldon Field. Two teams of three play until one team scores five goals.

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Minor adjustments are made to polo bicycles including switching the brakes based on which hand the individual will use to hold their mallet, as well as adding discs to the wheels to prevent the polo ball from getting caught in the wheel spokes.

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PAIGE CALAMARI

Bike repairs are part of the action. Matt Soycher of Northampton, left, and Jenny Ludden, a Smith College student from Kentucky, change the pedals on a bicycle before a game begins.

It is a sport traditionally played by aristocrats on sleek horses, mallets knocking a ball briskly on manicured turf. Now, the sport of polo has come to the masses, and to the Pioneer Valley, with a twist - bike polo.

The "horses" are, well, any old bike. The ball is a red rubber street-hockey ball. Mallets are ski poles attached to a 4- to 5-inch length of plastic pipe, open at both ends.

"The true bike polo mallet is one you make yourself," says Rose Johnson, 32, of Westhampton, on a balmy Wednesday evening at Sheldon Field. "It is not highly regulated."

It is Johnson, wearing sunglasses and a sweatshirt as fellow polo players gather at around 7 p.m., who has raised the bike polo consciousness in the Valley. Johnson, a former roller derby player, started playing bike polo in Seattle. When she moved here, she introduced the get-togethers in Northampton by posting fliers everywhere, and online.

Any adult with an adventurous spirit can play. Anyone who doesn't have a bike can borrow one there. Someone will lend you theirs. On a given night, up to 20 players show up. By all accounts, they are a cast of characters.

The players

Adam Szymkowicz, 26, of Amherst, rolls in on a bike with a small trailer attached. In the trailer are the tools of the sport: Orange cones for goals, mallets and beverages. "I'm the equipment mule," he says.

Wills Kinsley, of Belchertown, is stationed on the sideline with his "On A Roll" bike repair shop, in case anyone gets a flat, or needs brakes tweaked. His business aims "to get people to ride bikes."

Megan Luce, 29, came from Vermont to visit a friend. She is ready for action in flip-flops that highlight her alternating pink and blue toenails, and big teal-colored sunglasses.

Justin Wheatley, 39, of Northampton, cruises around the periphery of the court, one of the few wearing a bike helmet. "I always thought [bike polo] would be a great idea," he says.

Jake Mazonson, 23, of Northampton, is a regular. His bike is hard to miss, tricked-out as it is with colorful corrugated plastic discs covering the spokes of his wheels, to prevent mallets, or feet, from getting caught in them.

The rules

The court is the parking lot. Two orange cones, spaced roughly 3 feet apart at diagonal corners, are the goals. A ball that rolls off the court is simply tossed back in, even if it has to be pried from the mouth of a dog. Teams of three are chosen with a clatter of six mallets tossed into a pile on the court. A neutral person divides them into two piles.

The winner is the first team to score five goals.

Play begins. The bikes weave among one another tentatively, players reaching to knock the ball to teammates, using their mallets for balance when they have to stop. Anyone whose foot touches the ground must ride to a paper plate on the sideline and touch it with his or her mallet before returning to the game. Other infractions, such as one bike hitting another, are handled this way: "Sorry!"

"Referees have no place in bike polo," says Johnson.

Players warm to the challenge, skidding hard as they brake, or accelerating toward the goal with the ball. Those sudden bursts can be treacherous. Ask first-timer Emily Stephens of Montague, 18. She pedals hard after a nifty leading pass from a teammate. From the sidelines come shouts: "Heads up! FENCE!" Stephens sails into the chain-link enclosure, dumping her bike but managing to stay upright.

"How am I supposed to stay upright, stay focused, brake, watch the ball, and oh yeah, the fence!" she says with a laugh later, nursing a small cut on her lower leg. Incredibly, mishaps like this one are rare.

Darcy Dwyer, 20, of Northampton, also new, quickly switches bikes mid-game, abandoning her Fuji road bike for a friend's mountain bike. Mountain bikes have fatter tires and better maneuverability.

Dwyer says the game is big fun, adding, "I thought I should have more padding."

As the action continues, a pair of teammates celebrate a goal by touching mallets as they pedal. Along the sideline, players and some spectators cheer goals and cringe at the occasional spills. "POLE!" they yell as one player grazes the basketball pole and jumps off his bike. The score is 4-1, partly because of Mazonson's strategy. He acts as goalie, positioning his bike across the goal, balancing on his mallet, and knocking away shots. He also scores his team's final goal. He takes a victory lap around the court as new players pedal out to start a fresh game.

Wheatley, who has been to a couple of these get-togethers, leaves the court. Like others who return each week, he is hooked on the sport. "I went home last time completely exhilarated," he says.