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Tim's Version for Listening

Colt from Old Regret

by Neil McArthur @1999

How many of you folk have stopped and wondered to this day
What happened to the Colt from Old Regret who got away?
That one caught unassisted by the snowy river Man.
Twas near another year before chapter two began.

They sent him off to Sydney to a trainer named McBrack
Who could turn the wildest brumby to a winner on the track.
He surely had the bloodlines and his temperament was right
To knock off any weight-for-age or handicap in sight

McBrack, he trained that horse by dusk, he trained that horse by dawn
He trained it on the sand and on a track as smooth as lawn
He galloped him by moonlight and he swam him in the sun
But there was only one small problem, the mongrel couldn’t run

“He just needs time” McBrack explained, “Improvement’s slowly showing.”
The old man said, “We shoulda’ let the bugger keep on going!
All that pain we suffered just to bring the mongrel back
And we find we’ve got ourselves a thousand pounds of useless hack!!”

But McBrack kept on persisting and the colt from Old Regret
Improved with further training (and some gelding by the Vet)
He then rang up old Harrison and said “He’s right to go!
I’ll enter him next Saturday – He’s really got a show.”

“Bout bloody time!” the old man said, hardly sounding pleased
“What I won on Pardon in the Cup, I’ve spent on training fees
But I’ll only give the tip out to a small deserving clan
The tried and noted riders, and to Clancy and the ‘Man’”

”We need a name”, McBrack replied, “ a name to race him by.
I thought might and Power” , the old man answered “why?”
“’Cause a name reflects the hopes we hold and the horse’s power within.”
“Good then,” said the old man, “Call it ‘Win, You Bastard, Win’!”

So down there by the rails where the bookies cheer the hack
That band of wanton punters watched their horse come on the track
They’d backed their horse at twenties and they backed their horse at tens
And when it fell to evens, they all backed their horse again

The Man from Snowy River said, “It better run the course!
I’ve bet all of me royalties from me poem on this damn horse!”
And Clancy of the Overflow had come down to place a bet
He wagered everything he owned, and stood there in a sweat.

But the waiting now was over, as they drew the starting rope
“It’s up to fate!”, said Harrison, “Just pray and bloody hope!”
“Fate be stuffed!”, said Clancy, “I’ve fixed things up, you mugs.
I bribed the swabbing steward. Our horse is full of drugs!”

Then the race began in earnest. They were all quick to begin.
But five lengths out in front, was ‘Win you Bastard, Win’
It’s eyes were wide as dinner plates, this horse was off its face
The other trainers watched in awe and thought “Can this thing race!!”

But it was only out in front ‘;cause it was trying to avoid
The other nags, for all those drugs had made it paranoid!
They scorched around the corner, it had stretched its lead to eight
Then twelve lengths by the time they cornered down into the straight

The punters were ecstatic, screaming “Go! you Mongrel! Go!”
They were gonna clean up bigtime, they’d be rolling in their dough!
When the Man from Snowy river sprightly jumped up on the fence
And cheered the horse to victory (with obscene reference)

‘Win You Bastard, Win’  was well in front of every nag
The winning post was ten yards off, the plunge was in the bag!
But near the post the colt espied the Snowy river Man
And thought “Bloody Hell! Not you again!”, turned its tail and ran

Backwards up the bloody straight – the sight was quite bizarre!
The jockey on the second horse shouted “BLOODY TA!!!”
The punters stood there speechless as their flamin’ horse went “Whoosh…!!”
Jumped the fence – a mighty leap – and dashed into the bush

“Should I chase it?”  asked the ‘Man’,  Harrison said “No.
I’ve lost a bloody fortune. This time let the mongrel go!”
The punters were irate, their horse had failed to deliver
So instead they punched the crap ou of the Man from Snowy River!

Now there’s no movement at the station, they are sad and bitter people
See, they sold the colt which next year won the damn Grand National Steeple
And ‘midst the tried and noted riders, you’ll often hear them say
That the Man from Snowy River is a Bastard, still, today!!