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Monday, December 22, 2008

Twas a Racing Christmas


Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the track
Each jockey was ready to prepare his own tack.
Their silks had been folded by the grooms with care
With hopes of a victory, giving nothing to spare.

The riders were up all snug in their seats
Where visions of roses looked mighty sweet.
When out in the infield there rose such a clatter
The Kentucky throng sprang to their feet to see what was the matter.

What sight met their wondering eyes as they rose
‘Twas better than Ginger Punch over Lemon Drop Mom by a nose.

With eyes like the eagles the clockers they came
And they clicked on their stopwatches and called them by name
“On Big Truck! On Pyro! On Z Humor and Adriano!
“On Cool Coal Man! On Visionaire! On Denis and Gayego!

To the top of the stretch! To Tom Durkin’s call!
Now colts and dashing filly, please give it your all!”
More rapid than lightning the final furlong they flew
With a sack full of cash at stake and a Derby crown, too.

And then in a twinkling there came from the rear
The red, white and blue of IEAH, colt by colt did he clear
Then the monster horse flew by in a flash
Exploding on the scene with such a big splash

Then all at once with a rush and a roar
He pulled away from the others like they had not seen before.
From the furthest gate, from post twenty he came
Yum! Brands was still the sponsor, isn’t that lame?

With a burst of speed and an awesome closing kick
They all said at once, “Hey, this must be a trick!”
“A horse like that shouldn’t be racing here!”
“And why is his trainer hated in the blogosphere?”

The other horses in front had went kinda slow
And good old Big Brown just went with the flow.

He had won with great ease, his smiling backers at the window
Handing over their tickets for the win, place and show
He basked in the glory answering his connections grand plea
And left them all to wonder, what would be his stud fee?

On to Pimlico he went to destroy them again
The second jewel was his, will history by penned?
Alas, the Triple Crown hopes came to the Big Apple to die.
The natives were booing as Kent eased him up, the crowd hissing “Oh my!”

But the connections escaped to the Shore with a zag and a zig
And crossed over the wire first, the turf not such a bad gig.
The trainer and owner jumped on their private plane
Grabbed another winning trophy and drank some champagne.

Thanked both of their fans and took the cash too
Stole a kiss from Hank Goldberg, and then off they flew
As they flew out of sight, one last cry did they hear.
“Merry Christmas to all, better luck at Three Chimneys next year!”


Winston...not really said...


You beat me by a day...

suebroux said...

Applause! A holiday demonstration of sheer poetic talent!

SaratogaSpa said...

witty-good stuff

Ernie said...


Imagine if Big Brown were returning at 4...that would be quite the present

Keith - Triple Dead Heat said...

Nice job! Like the Goldberg line...

The latest paper is out and I'm posting it to you tomorrow.

Happy Holidays!

Geno said...

WNR: Thanks my friend.

Sue: Longfellow I'm not...LOL.

SS: Thanks

Ernie: Def would have been a better conclusion!

TDH: Looking fwd to my copy of DTS..Thanks!

Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays Everyone!


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