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Tallyho! The genteel sport of polo is charging back into the limelight, spurred by lavish new equestrian clubs in Palm Springs, Calif., and Dubai, not to mention studly tabloid photos of Princes William and Harry.

But there is one breed of polo players who wouldn't be caught dead in English riding breeches or dapper Argentinean-made La Martina helmets.

Their steeds are of the two-wheeled variety and their playing field is pavement. Dirt cheap and snobbery-free, their rough-and-tumble sport is bike polo.

In Vancouver, players, dressed in hoodies and T-shirts show up to crash and burn every Saturday afternoon on the tennis courts of Grandview Park. Most are bicycle mechanics, students and members of PedalPlay, a collective known for welding spare parts into Frankenbikes.

Few of the players wear helmets, but all wield mallets, which involves the abuse of a ski pole and the grafting of PVC pipe.

The East Van Bike Polo club begins each match with the ominous chant of "1-2-3 kill!" A rush for the ball at centre court ensues, followed by 15-minute periods of fast breaks and long passes that seldom connect.

The club's punk feel - complete with skull logo - couldn't be more opposite from the Pimms-sipping pretensions of the horsy set.

East Van Bike Polo "tends to attract people who like to ride with a certain level of aggression," says James Thompson, a 27-year-old grad student and one of the club's originators.

Photos of bloodied hands and black eyes serve as a warning on the club's website, Bikepolo.ca.

The writing on the site is equally blunt: "Notify your next of kin. Carry adequate medical insurance. Pray to the polo gods."

The rules are merciless. Any player who puts foot to asphalt must ride a full circle before touching the ball again. Raising the mallet above the handlebars or grabbing other players and wrestling them to the ground are verboten. But other hard-core moves, such as body contact and bike-on-bike collisions, are par for the brutal course.

"It's an unbelievable amount of fun," Mr. Thompson says.

Since it formed last August, East Van Bike Polo has developed so quickly that players are now meeting on Tuesday nights as well, and offering tutorials for newbies.

The game's appeal reflects the growth of bike culture in urban centres, Mr. Thompson says. "Riders get a chance to engage in a team sport and do something that's quite challenging with their bikes."

Although the club makes its own rules, it hardly invented the sport. That honour goes to Richard Mecredy, an Irishman who conceived velocipede polo in 1891. The pedal pastime took off in Britain, France and the United States and was a demonstration sport in the 1908 Olympic Games.

The game's popularity waned after the Second World War, but cycle polo gained ground again in the 1990s, when the first world championship was held in Richland, Wash. Since then, teams from India, Canada, France and Pakistan have competed in international tournaments.

Vancouver is the seat of bike polo in Canada, with leagues in East Vancouver and Jericho Beach at opposite ends of the pedalling spectrum.

East Van is a scrappy crowd, drawing teams such as Portland's Axles of Evil for faceoffs including the Last Riders of the APOLOclypse, held in April, 2007.

Jericho Bike Polo is stuffy by comparison, with far more rules - no body checks for example - and a league made up of a neurosurgeon, a businessman and engineers in their forties and fifties.

Nevertheless, the Jericho club's adherence to international rules, which are based on equestrian polo, has allowed players to compete (and win) in tournaments in France, Ireland, India and the United States.

"We pursued the international rules because there are safety elements built in," says Harvey Barton, a 47-year-old bike-polo veteran who's been playing at Jericho since the club formed in 1985.

Elsewhere in Canada, the Calgary Bike Polo club has drawn a small group of regulars since it formed 15 years ago. They even play during winter, says club founder Garry Quist, a 47-year-old graphic designer.

Calgary's approach is laid back, he adds, the point being camaraderie, not competition. "It's just as much fun to avoid a collision as it is to score a goal," he says.

Established bike-polo leagues peter out east of Alberta, but there are some fledgling groups here and there. In Toronto, players are now meeting on Tuesday nights in Trinity Bellwoods Park. The event is run by the eccentric Royal Society of Adventurology, whose members serve tea and crumpets and urge newcomers to arrive in "jaunty, sportsperson-like attire," meaning tweed vests and Victorian haberdashery.

The mood at the Toronto park is more playful than posh - but it's doubtful the blue-blooded diehards of equestrian polo would be amused.