Diamond Geezer
Gone But Not Forgotten
- Joined
- May 2, 2003
- Messages
- 13,884
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all over the Course
Not a bettor was stirring, nor even a horse;
Betting slips were completed with precision and care,
In hopes that the Placepot would soon be theirs;
The betting tickets were nestled all snug in their hands,
With visions of a six figure payoff and dancing in the stands;
And the missus in her Barber , and me in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long paddock check,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the paddock to see what was the matter.
Away to the betting window I flew like a flash,
Tore open my wallet and threw down the cash.
The wad on the beast who's trainer has white hair,
He's got the form figures to win this affair,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Martin Pipe trained horse with big funny ears,
With a little old rider, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be jockey St. Nick.
More rapid than Linford his army they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, as he called out their names;
"Now Chester now David! now, Timmy and Carol!
On Roddi' On Jamie, on Jim and Howard.
To the Bookie on the porch!
to the totes on the wall!
Now bet away! bet away! bet away all!"
As the horse prepared to let fly,
I considered my bet and looked to the sky,
So up to the starting gate the horses they flew,
With many a well known jockey or too.
And then, in a wink, I hear pounding of hoofs
I ran to another location on top of the roof.
As I viewed the race with binoculars from afar,
Straight to the front went St. Nick with the four.
All dressed in his colored silks of red and white,
And his fans jumped to their feet yelling he's got them wiped;
A bundle of tickets were flung in the air,
All losers so why should anyone care.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
He headed to the winners circle for the final show;
The stump of dirt he held tight in his teeth,
As his fans encircled him like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little pot belly,
That shook, when he dismounted like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump for a old retired rider,
No other jockey would try any harder;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me to know that he had won the bread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his agent,
And filled his pockets with many winning tickets,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, into the limo he dove;
He sang out and gave his fans a whistle,
As he threw out the tickets like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."
Not a bettor was stirring, nor even a horse;
Betting slips were completed with precision and care,
In hopes that the Placepot would soon be theirs;
The betting tickets were nestled all snug in their hands,
With visions of a six figure payoff and dancing in the stands;
And the missus in her Barber , and me in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long paddock check,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the paddock to see what was the matter.
Away to the betting window I flew like a flash,
Tore open my wallet and threw down the cash.
The wad on the beast who's trainer has white hair,
He's got the form figures to win this affair,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Martin Pipe trained horse with big funny ears,
With a little old rider, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be jockey St. Nick.
More rapid than Linford his army they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, as he called out their names;
"Now Chester now David! now, Timmy and Carol!
On Roddi' On Jamie, on Jim and Howard.
To the Bookie on the porch!
to the totes on the wall!
Now bet away! bet away! bet away all!"
As the horse prepared to let fly,
I considered my bet and looked to the sky,
So up to the starting gate the horses they flew,
With many a well known jockey or too.
And then, in a wink, I hear pounding of hoofs
I ran to another location on top of the roof.
As I viewed the race with binoculars from afar,
Straight to the front went St. Nick with the four.
All dressed in his colored silks of red and white,
And his fans jumped to their feet yelling he's got them wiped;
A bundle of tickets were flung in the air,
All losers so why should anyone care.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
He headed to the winners circle for the final show;
The stump of dirt he held tight in his teeth,
As his fans encircled him like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little pot belly,
That shook, when he dismounted like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump for a old retired rider,
No other jockey would try any harder;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me to know that he had won the bread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his agent,
And filled his pockets with many winning tickets,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, into the limo he dove;
He sang out and gave his fans a whistle,
As he threw out the tickets like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."
