An Off-Season in Hell

As the air turns cool, the leaves change shades and the nights get longer, the road racing season draws to a close.  Long pants hide unshaven legs, time in the saddle is replaced with time on the couch, and carbon fiber frames wilt and recede to await rebirth in the spring.  It's the natural cycle of things, but before the new team kits sprout in the spring with their majestic colors and chlorophyllic moisture wicking properties there is a long, dreary southern winter that must be endured.  So where does the dyed-in-the-lycra roadie turn to maintain a peak level of fitness during these lean times?  For Kay Sakai, the Athens cycling magnate and fully licensed road racer, there can only be one answer: Bike Polo. When night falls and the parking lots lie empty, Sakai becomes The Duke of the Mallet, and his opponents quiver in fear at his sight, armed with a mallet shaped from the disembodied seatstay of the devil's own track bike, piloting his carbon fiber steed across the gritty asphalt of the Polo Grounds.  Strong legs collapse into jelly, tubes pinch themselves flat and rims taco spontaneously when confronted with The Duke's awesome might.  Some say he's sold his soul.  Others say he's only just found it.  The Duke and a growing band of other true believers meet under the flickering streetlamps in the back lots of the city to do battle in the grueling test of skill, strength and spoke tension that is bike polo.  For most players, the moment of glory after a goal is scored is enough to keep them coming back, but Sekai's motivations run deeper.  Lives, primes and podium placings hang in the balance, and there is no better way to prepare for those amateur criteriums than join a cluster of unstable riders with clubs in their hands to fight it out at terrifyingly low speeds in a poorly lit parking lot.  This nightmare whirlwind of blood, beer and low-end steel may wither the resolve of many weaker riders, but The Duke and his hand-selected chain trust of elite malletteers known as The First Generation are up to the challenge and are ready to take on all comers.  These wheelmen of the apocalypse were born without fear and with an unquenchable thirst for goals, brew, and the blood of their enemies.  With every match their legend grows, and this off-season in hell has only just begun for The Duke and his First Generation.