Cripplingly tight jodhpurs, smouldering glances and steamy goings-on in the stables: after reading Jilly Cooper’s Polo, I knew what to expect from my first lesson. By now, two chukkas in, I should be sheened with a fine glaze of perspiration and looking forward to my first glass of champagne with a virile South American instructor. So why am I sitting in the middle of a muddy field near Glasgow astride a pony that shows no sign of going anywhere?

“You need to use your reins to tell her what to do,” shouts José von Potobsky, my suntanned, pearly-toothed Argentinian instructor. I flick my reins obligingly, but the message doesn’t seem to be getting through. Fab, my pony, turns and looks at me pityingly through her fringe.

It should all be very different. In the hands of a professional, Fab shows her true mettle: she can turn on a sixpence, braking, accelerating and cutting past her opponents, more fetlocked motorbike than mere mare. And it looks as though Fab will have a busy summer.

Von Potobsky, along with half a dozen specially trained horses, has been brought over from Argentina by Karina Bowlby to set up Stewarton Polo Club, a 20-minute drive south of Glasgow.

It’s a brave move: polo tends to be associated with pukka chaps and “stick chicks”, their glossy-maned, designer-clad girlfriends, in the south of England. But with the summer season in full swing, Bowlby is intent on bringing this famously elitist sport, with its connections to royalty and the military, to the masses.

“You don’t need to be really rich or really posh or a man to play. Polo is for everyone,” says Bowlby. She is a good advertisement: a fan of the game for years who only started playing three years ago. “Polo is getting bigger in Scotland and is one of the fastest-growing sports in Britain. It’s one of few sports where men and women can play together and you can play in summer or winter.”

Of the 80 people who have played at Stewarton since it opened last year, only five are men and the vast majority are under 30.

I am slap bang in the middle of the polo nouveau demographic and I’m eager to get going.

With a twinkle in his eye, von Potobsky insists that we get off our horses and master the basics on the ground, hitting a few balls while standing on two legs, before trying anything more ambitious. This is, after all, one of the most dangerous games in the world and there’s a lot to learn before I’m going to be ready to hit a ball three inches in diameter with a 52in-long stick while travelling at 35mph.

“Well done,” shouts Bowlby, as my first flukey swing strikes the ball with a confident clunk. Needless to say, it’s a while before I hit anything else. “It is tricky at first, but the vast majority of people who come here are polo virgins. I was hooked from my first lesson even though I was terrible at it,” says Bowlby, a former tennis professional and coach who, at 37, is the second-oldest player at Stewarton.

“The adrenaline rush is amazing. It’s also fantastic exercise. Ask any polo player to take off his shirt and you’ll see an amazing six-pack,” advises Bowlby as I watch my instructor cantering towards us. I clear my throat and try to concentrate on my stroke.

With a helpful shove from von Potobsky, I fling myself astride Fab with all the grace of a clapped-out old Clydesdale. The only racing heart is my own as I struggle to get into the saddle and regain my composure. Hardly the stuff of bored housewives’ fantasies, but I’m raring to go.

According to the Scottish Equestrian Association (SEA), the number of polo players in Scotland has increased by a third in the past year and the trend looks set to continue. Muriel Colquhon, the executive officer of SEA, says: “The polo scene in Scotland is very strong and the number of participants is growing fast. It is becoming very popular in the pony clubs, which means we have a lot of young players coming through.”

Times Recommends

• Swine flu vaccine for all as drug rushed through
• Artificial sperm and the race to build a baby
• BBC jets out stars to tout for prizes