catcher in the wryness

Miss Hungary was telling me about Hungary.
"We're all mad about water polo," she said. "Our national water polo team nearly always wins a gold at the Olympics. It's a source of great pride to us because it's the only time we get a chance to show ourselves to the world. Hungarians play water polo to win."
The Aroma Cafe hummed around us.
I tried to look wise and interested at the same time.
"Water polo," I mused, "I'm not really familiar with it. How do the horses move about in the water? How do you swing the mallets?"
Miss Hungary favoured me with a brief searching Hungarian look just to be sure I wasn't joking.
Then she laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed again.
As love struck waifs go, I think we can safely say, she was fairly dazzled.