Paul Stanley Castle was born in Birmingham on 14 March 1956, second child of Ronnie and Mavis, younger brother to Gillian and, in due course, elder brother to Jonathan. He is survived by all of them and by one child from each of his first and third marriages, Danielle and William, and his only grandchild Emily. Paul had his first polo lesson at the old Checkendon club in the early 1990s. He was instantly hooked and, being the sort of character he was, had to have it all immediately. He had the kit, the ponies, a professional, a polo­ playing fourth wife, Renee, and somewhere to keep them all. Thus was born the polo legend known quire simply as "Castle". If I detail the myriad of amusing anecdotes that abound his career, I would have a best-seller. But time and space constraints dictate otherwise. Paul loved playing polo and the more often the better. His Metropolitan team was a regular and successful fixture on the medium-goal scene for many years and he once won the subsidiary of the Queen's Cup at Guards. It was my privilege to travel with him on this journey. It was always noisy, eventful and, most of the time, great fun. The highs and lows followed each other in quick succession but were always met with the same equanimity. He embraced life and all of his pastimes with the same gusto. Whether it was polo, hunting, shooting, golf, boating or just going for a walk on his land near Henley, in today' s football parlance - he gave it 110 per cent. In his polo career he always supported young English talent and many professionals owe Paul a debt of gratitude. He also loved his ponies and dogs and was meticulous about properly exercising them. Paul was a man of extremes, as has been born out by his sudden and untimely demise. He was that "all or nothing" character. If you knew him, whether you loved or hated him, he engendered strong emotions in you. Anyone not put off by his loudness and brashness, who took time to get to know him, was usually converted. I have thought long and hard about why this was. There were many things about him you could (and I certainly did at times) find annoying. But my answer is that he had energy, enthusiasm and a good heart. He engulfed you and you either ran a mile or gave in. I gave in and find myself mourning a true and generous friend. A man who, if it was in his power to help you, would. And, if it was not, would pour a drink, sympathise, cheer you up and re-enthuse you. Paul you will be remembered for a long time by friends and foes alike. Truly unforgettable.