Phar Lap

Yeah, you know what's

coming up, don't ya?

Hang on a minute.

Hang on. I've gotta mix it up.

That's it.

Yeah.

You're a good fella today.

You love all that stuff

now, don't ya?

Crowds and cheering.

The bigger, the better, eh?

What's the matter?

You're sick. Bill!

Cashy, get in here! Bobby's sick!

What did he eat yesterday?

Just his usual feed and a bit of grass.

- Alfalfa?

- Yes.

Was it wet?

Look, it's not colic.

It's something worse.

I know what I'm doing.

Ooh, matey.

That's the boy.

Bill! Cashy! Where the hell are ya?!

- What's the matter?

- He's gettin' worse, Bill.

Mate, come on.

We'd better get the vet at Tanforan.

Keep him moving.

OK. Come on.

Come on. You've gotta keep going.

Come on.

Oh, Bobby, you can't!

Please, get up!

Please!

Please, make him get up.

Oh, Bobby.

No!

No, you can't die. Please.

Please, no.

Bobby.

/ The wonder horse

/ Known on every course

/ From Australia to... /

This is the Don Lee

Radio Network.

Today the turf world is in tears.

Phar Lap, whom some say

is the greatest...

This is KMTR, Los Angeles.

Governor Rolph of California

has appealed to all

the relevant agencies

to mobilise their forces

in a joint effort

to seek out the cause

of Phar Lap's death.

Mr. Wendell Vincent, chief of

Western Food and Drug Administration,

says that arsenic trioxide was found

in the horse's liver and lungs.

As his autopsy revealed

no such evidence of...

Dr. T.R. Creel, an American vet,

told the press

that he didn't die of colic.

They all suddenly

got together

and issued a joint statement

saying, in effect,

they don't know how he died

and probably never will.

However, Dr. Nielsen,

Phar Lap's Australian veterinarian

declared he had no such doubts.

The horse died of an irritant poison.

...and I know what it means when

the lining has been eaten away.

I'd like to have come to

some other conclusion,

but I'm afraid it's impossible.

Please stand for 30 seconds,

as a tribute to the great racehorse,

Phar Lap, who died last week.

This is KMTR, Los Angeles.

Mr. Telford.

Mr. Telford, can you have a few

words with me about the tragedy?

Leave me alone.

Do you think he was poisoned?

What does it matter? He's dead.

Well, why is it, do you think,

that there's been this incredible

reaction to Phar Lap's death?

After all, he was just a horse.

He wasn't JUST a horse.

He was the best.

He's a bit skinny, isn't he, Harry?

He's lost condition

on the voyage over.

Harry, he's only come

from New Zealand.

Well, he's just a colt.

Why's he got all those warts?

Well, you don't buy horses

just for their looks.

I wonder what your

American friend's going to say.

This has gotta be a joke.

Harry, you got the real horse hidden

around the back somewhere, right?

He's got a good, big frame.

Go on.

This is not a horse, Harry.

This is a cross between

a sheepdog and a kangaroo.

You told me this thing

was gonna be a champion, huh?

Well, he will be, Mr. Davis.

He's got Carbine on both sides

of his bloodline.

Greatest horse of them all.

Greatest of them all.

I paid 168 for this, Harry, sight

unseen from a goddamn catalogue.

Now, I'll tell you the truth -

I don't really care who he's got

in his family tree.

Why the hell didn't you write

across to New Zealand,

ask somebody to look at him for you?

Well, he'll fill out.

He will, huh? Harry!

Some guy told me his sire

and dam were hopeless -

didn't win a race between them.

- Night Raid out of...

- Entreaty.

Entreaty.

Did not win a single race,

either one of them.

Well, he's got good blood

further back.

Now, no-one looks further back.

- Sell him.

- But you've gotta give him a chance.

Why? I'm not paying you to feed and

train something that looks like that.

I'm not in the habit of throwing

good money after bad, my friend.

Well, if you sell him without giving

him a chance, you're a fool.

I assure you I'm no fool.

Sell him for the best price

you can get.

I'll lease him, then.

Well, I can't buy him.

Haven't got the money.

You sign him over to me for three

years, I'll pay for his upkeep.

Give you a third of his winnings.

Three years?

Well, if you're so bloody sure

he's a no-hoper,

what have you got to lose?

What have I got to lose?

How can we afford to

lease him, Harry?

I'm the one who has to face

the feed merchant

when he comes for his money

on Mondays.

You just scoot out the back.

You've got about as much faith

in me as Davis.

You know who that colt's

got in his bloodline?

Carbine twice through Musket.

There's St. Frusquin,

Prayer Wheel, Winkle...

Harry! I haven't even got the money

to buy your son's new shoes.

All Cappy's clothes

are hand-me-downs.

Well, that horse is

gonna be a champion.

Well, can't anyone understand that?

He's gonna be a champion.

Get out, you bastard.

It's the big fella -

Happy Harry's horse.

Come on!

Pick on someone

your own size!

Youse try and do better.

- Think you're smart, don't ya?

- Smarter than you, son.

You try and put a bridle on him.

He'll bloody well

do the same to you.

Come on, Tommy.

Yeah, go on.

Alright, I'll have a go.

Ta. Ta.

Good, mate.

That's it.

Ready.

You got a real goer

this time, Harry.

Jeez, you can pick 'em, Harry.

Harry knows his bloodlines.

I s'pose you'd pick one

like that for me.

Go on, you bloody mongrel!

Get away.

Excuse me.

What is that horse's name?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes