I moved up on the outside to pass Bold Eclipse
when this poncy young jockey bloke puckered his lips.
Well I kicked well away and I picked up the pace
and a divot of turf hit him smack in the face.
With the straight just ahead it was now time to move
and Thong Classic sensed too he had something to prove.
When I went for the whip the horse lengthened his stride
and I knew I was in for one hell of a ride.
From the stands the crowd screamed and were going berserk
while McArthur cried, "Ride, pinkie ride you great berk."
Then I stood in the stirrups, applying the whip,
but a length from the finish ... I felt my foot slip.
As I crashed to the ground I lay writhing in pain
when a voice from the dark cried, "You're flamin' insane!"
To my horror I saw from my back on the floor
my poor wife on the bed looking terribly sore.
She'd a cord in her mouth from my old dressing gown
and was bowed in the back lying tummy side down.
She had marks on her thigh from the welts from my belt
while the screams I had heard were from pain she had felt.
It took months to live down what took place on that night
and to stave off divorce proved a flamin’ tough fight.
I'm blacklisted from races and all TABs
and I sleep with darn hobbles strapped round both me knees.
Conversing with Neil McArthur at Bobby Millers Wake, we all realized we were there to
celebrate Bobby's life, so one could not help but indulge in the larrikin spirit he was
so famous for. Know for his comical verses, Neil has a thing about thongs and many
titles in his books and albums contain a thong theme. He also loves the horses and he
has shares in one. We were rather amused to find one of the starters in the Melbourne
Cup was Thong Classic. The rest is poetic licence.