This poem on Ray Gatti was written in 2006 RAY GATTI By OWEN EDMONDS Well he hails from round the Glasshouse Near the mountains steep and tall And he comes to us with knowledge Of the longtails big and small He's been in dogs for many years With class above the average Well known to every trainer As the legend Raymond Gatti In greyhound racing circles He appears to be a rogue But that is just a furphy As most of us would know And just to know the secrets And the tricks that he's forgot Would help the average trainer Improve his little lot Ray's partial to a coupla drinks On a steamy summers day And a word or two on how things are Would never go astray But when he speaks about the past It pays to lend an ear If you do you'll learn a lot About the bygone years And what about the stewards He keeps them on their toes Running late for pre-race swabs As a catcher he's no go As casual as a sleeping dog No rush, no haste, no worry They'll wait for me, he always says I'm in no bloody hurry And as McGrath so surely found While inspecting Gatti's kennel Questions asked without a sound Was hard for Steve to handle So in Steve got with Gatti's dog And asked the hound a few And Steve told Ray he'll tell me more Than I'll ever hear from you Does Call Me Roscoe ring a bell A champion Gatti reared Two Qld Cups, a trophy race Twice greyhound of the year And it was claimed the best damn dog That Gatti ever owned And after celebrating wins The dog would then drive home But now that Roscoe's left the scene Much to Gattis sadness Ray still has a racing team And the traffic scene is madness He travels far and many miles To race the team he's got And the car seems to find its way On automatic pilot Yes, he has run foul of the boys in blue And gave the sergeant lots A tad above the limit After winning at the trots Spent the night in the local cell With the sergeant thereabouts Got his hands on the sergeant's book And ripped the pages out Well, come the morn, he'd done his time So he summoned Reggie Kay Come get me out of this damn hole Before I go astray And so Reg did as Reggie would Bailed Gatti from that cell And the sergeant said in temper Take the bastard back to hell Ray's always had a handy crew In his kennels throughout time The Coonowrin dogs were but a few Bred on Gatti's line He gives an average dog a go And treats them as his own By day they roam the forest And at night he brings 'em home So if you like to hear a tale Of dogs in years bygone Just attach him to your ear And let him ramble on Classic yarns is what you'll hear Of his capers and exploits I'd like to put it all in verse But my papers running short So with respect to one good bloke A man whose seen it all Small in size but big in heart No hurdles are too tall I'd give him praise for what it's worth An award without a fear A rough cut diamond that's for sure But legend of the year
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