"Polo," I said, "probably was out-drawing the New York baseball clubs most of the time in those golden days."
"Without a doubt," the doctor said.
"Well, what made polo decline as a spectator sport?"
"The war," said the doctor. "Polo was expendable as a spectator sport and many players went into service. The cavalry was mechanized. A lot of officers had been polo players and the National Guard units had teams. Then there were the high income taxes. Naturally, that hit hard at an expensive game like polo."
"Taxes aren't getting any lower, doctor. How come polo is gaining again?"
"Well, the younger players have formed clubs and they share ponies. This enables young men who couldn't possibly afford to keep a string of ponies to play regularly."
Dr. Williams had turned off the Stemmons Expressway and was now on Highway 77. After a while he pointed to a road sign.
"Joe Field Road," I read aloud.
"Joe Field," said Dr. Williams, "was a patient of mine. I have him to thank for the farm we're going to see. One day when he was leaving my office, he said, 'Doc, a man never amounts to anything until he owns land. I've put in a bid in your name for some farmland northwest of town.' Well, I said, 'Whoa. What will I do with that kind of property?' Joe Field looked at me and said, 'Doc, you just hold on to it.'
"Well, sir, I did just that. I paid about $30,000 for the property. I've already gotten back nearly twice that amount and still have practically all the land. I was paid for a small parcel that will accommodate an extension of the Stemmons Expressway and I was also compensated by the power company that had run a line across one corner. Now the area is zoned for industrial use, and I don't know what it will bring if I ever decide to sell. I don't want ever to lose my polo field, but—bearing in mind the advice Joe Field gave me—I've put my profits and somewhat more into 275 acres about 50 miles farther out."