ADD: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer

Subject: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Ralph Butts
Date: 14 Feb 97 - 07:19 AM

Can anyone help me with this one? Title, lyric, origin? What I can recall is shown below. Thanks...Tiger

The old man sat in the grandstand chair, Hay in his whiskers, hay in his hair, And his voice rang out through the frosty air, I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

He was sired by Zev down in Arkansas, His mother was a cousin of Man O'War, And he won every race that he started for, I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

Subject: RE: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Ralph Butts
Date: 10 Apr 97 - 07:13 AM

I sure would. I've been after this one for a long time.....Tiger

Subject: Lyr Add: I'M BETTING THE ROLL ON ROAMER (Crumit)
From:
Date: 01 May 97 - 11:11 PM

I'M BETTING THE ROLL ON ROAMER
As sung by Frank Crumit)

An old man sat in the grandstand chair,
Hay in his whiskers, grey in his hair,
And his voice rang out on the sultry air,
"I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

"She was sired by Zeb out in Arkansas.
Her mother was cousin to Man o' War.
She's broke every record that she's tried for.
I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

"I'm bold enough when this race is run.
The bookies are laying me thirty to one.
It's a lead-pipe cinch I'm a son of a gun.
I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

"Then I'll build a big city mansion
And a summer home down by the sea,
And I'll put the old mare on a pension,
When she brings home the bacon to me. "

The jocks were dressed in their silks so gay.
The crowd was immense that Memorial Day.
"She'll win in a walk," they heard him say.
"I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer."

Then off they rode to the starting place,
While thousands debated who'd win the race.
You could read the words in the old man's face:
"I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer."

The crowd was still and the air was tense,
And thousands were holding their breath in suspense.
Came a voice as sharp as a picket fence:
"I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

"Then I'll build that big city mansion,
And that summer home down by the sea,
And I'll put the old mare on a pension,
When she brings home the bacon to me."

The old man climbed to a higher spot.
The barrier's sprung and they're off like a shot,
With the old man yellin', believe it or not,
"I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

"They passed the quarter. O Lord, be kind,
For Roamer is nearly a quarter behind.
That jockey must either be dumb or blind,
And I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer. "

The crowd all yelled when they packed the line.
They pulled in the stretch and the goin' was fine.
"I thought I was rich but she slipped in a ditch,
And I had all my roll on Roamer.

"There may be a big city mansion,
And there may be a home by the sea,
And the mare may be put on a pension,
But by somebody else beside me."

(It may not be 100 per cent, but it's the best I can do)
FM

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 9-Apr-03.

Subject: RE: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Ralph Butts
Date: 02 May 97 - 06:02 AM

Frank.....Thanks so much. I thought perhaps we'd lost the thread in the April massacre.

Now, any idea where it comes from? Thanks again......Tiger

Subject: RE: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Frank Maher
Date: 02 May 97 - 08:46 AM

I have no idea where the Song comes from.I have it on a record by a Singer named Frank Crumit (1930) Glad to be of help!! FM

Subject: RE: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Ralph Butts
Date: 21 May 97 - 12:38 PM

Thanks again, Frank. With your info, I've even been able to locate a copy of the recording......Tiger

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From:
Date: 14 Apr 05 - 02:53 PM

Only one mistake I noticed. It should b3e "I'm folding up when this race is run."

It was recorded by Frank Crumit as the B side of "The Return of Abdul Abulbull Amir".

Page Stephens

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: GUEST
Date: 14 Apr 05 - 03:37 PM

Pardon my hubris.

The correct words are:

    An old man sat in the grandstand chair,
      Hay in his whiskers, grey in his hair,
      And his voice rang out on the sultry air,
      "I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer!

      "She was sired by Zev out in Arkansas.
      Her mother was cousin to Man o' War.
      She's broke every record that she's tried for.
      I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer!

      "I'm folding up when this race is run.
      The bookies are laying me thirty to one.
      It's a lead-pipe cinch I'm a son of a gun.
      I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer!

Chorus

      "Then I'll build a big city mansion
      And a summer home down by the sea,
      And I'll put the old mare on a pension,
      When she brings home the bacon to me.
"
      The jocks were dressed in their silks so gay.
      The crowd was immense that Memorial Day.
      "She'll win in a walk," they heard him say.
      "I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer."

      Then off they rode to the starting place,
      While thousands debated who'd win the race.
      You could read the words in the old man's face:
      "I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer."

      The crowd was still and the air was tense,
      And thousands were holding their breath in suspense.
      Came a voice as sharp as a picket fence:
      "I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer!

Chorus

      "Then I'll build that big city mansion,
      And that summer home down by the sea,
      And I'll put the old mare on a pension,
      When she brings home the bacon to me."

      The old man climbed to a higher spot.
      The barrier's sprung and they're off like a shot,
      With the old man yellin', believe it or not,
      "I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer.

      They passed the corner, Oh Lord, be kind,
      For Roamer is nearly a quarter behind.
      "That jockey must either be dumb or blind,
      And I'm bettin' the roll on Roamer."

      The crowd all yelled when they passed the line.
      They pulled in the stretch and the goin' was fine.
      "I thought I was rich but she slipped in a ditch,
      And I had all my roll on Roamer."

      "There may be a big city mansion,
      And there may be a home by the sea,
      And the mare may be put on a pension,
      But by somebody else beside me."

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: katlaughing
Date: 14 Apr 05 - 07:39 PM

I was pleased to include this on a set of CDs I made off my parents' old 78's, last year, in this thread: click HERE. If anyone is interested in the sound file of this song in particular, please PM me with an email addy and I'll send it.

kat

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: Flash Company
Date: 15 Apr 05 - 05:20 AM

I remember this being sung by Buck Douglas with Big Bill Campbell in WW2 on BBC radio. Very last line changed to 'But by some other sucker than me'. Didn't realise it was originally Frank Crumit. Has that resonance though.

FC

Subject: RE: A SEVENTY YEAR OLD FOLLOWER
From: and e
Date: 02 Jun 23 - 07:24 PM

A SEVENTY YEAR OLD FOLLOWER
Anonymous

An old sport lounged in a grandstand chair,
There was dung in his whiskers and hay in his hair,
And his voice rang hoarse on the sultry air,
"He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus!"

"Just wait 'til you see them turn him loose,
He'll go through that field like shit through a goose,
He'll do it as easy as ace takes a deuce—
He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus !"

"His breeding is right, he can't go slow,
He's out of Black Bess by Hungry Joe;
Of that bunch of skates he'll sure make a show—
He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus!"

"I ain't got no money, but if I was rich,
I'd go dead broke on that son-of-a-bitch;
When he gets a-goin' he'll make 'em all itch—
He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus!"

"They've sent 'em away—gave him worst of the start—
It don't make no difference—he don't care a fart—
The suckers are yellow but he's game—got a heart—
He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus !"

"From the nineteenth position way out in the grass
Where weeds are so tall they tickle his ass,
He's just nosed out of place Scotch Highland Lass—
He'll win in a walk, b'Jesus!"

"They are swung in the stretch and the bastard is third—
He has worked up to second—now, he's slipped on a terd;
He's slipped in the ditch, the son-of-a-bitch—
He wasn't in it, b'Jesus!"

From Immortalia, 1927.

Available online here:

https://archive.org/details/1927immortaliapirated/page/6/mode/2up?q=walk

Frank Crumit was known for cleaning up bawdy songs (e.g. The Gay Caballero, Abdul Abul Bul Amir, etc.).   This 1930 song by Crumit is another example.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: and e
Date: 07 Jun 23 - 10:01 PM

THE OLD SPORT.

The Old Sport sat in his grand stand chair,
with dung on his pants and lice in his hair,
And his voice rang out on the evening air;
"He'l win in a walk, by gosh!"

*-->

"His record's straight, he can't go slow--
He's out of Black Bess and Hungry Joe--
And of all that field he'll made a show;
He'll win in a walk, by gosh!"

"Just wait till you see them him loose,
He'll go through that field like shit through a goose;
Just like an ace a-beating a duce.
He'll win in a walk, by gosh!"

They cam down the strectch and that bastard was third,
He worked up to second, then slipped on a turd
And fell in the ditch. . . And that son of bitch
Never finished at all, by gosh!



[Handwritten addition to the typscript above, indicated with a star to be inserted after the 1st verse]

* I ain't got no money, but i I was rich
I'd go dead broke on that son of a bitch
When he gets started he'll make 'em all itch
He'll win in walk, by Jesus!

Pg 272, The Canfield Collection, [undated, c1927, typscript with ms addition].

See online here:

https://archive.org/details/1926canfieldcollection/page/n271/mode/2up

Subject: RE: ADD: I'm Bettin' the Roll on Roamer
From: and e
Date: 08 Jun 23 - 09:08 AM

LOST THE RACE BY JESUS
Recited by Julius Sorel [Van Holy Oak]

The old man sat in the grandstand chair
With shit in his whiskers and lice in his hair
He smiled as he said with a confident air
"She can win in a walk by Jesus"

Now that old mare was long, tall, lanky and loose
And the jockey was pale from self-abuse.
They'll go the that track like shit through a goose
And win in a walk by Jesus

Now at the end of a quarter he was breaking the clock
So he dropped his whip but he whipped out his cock
At the very last quarter she's coming too fast
She slipped on a horse turd and fell on her ass
And lost the race by Jesus

Transcribed from the LP, Just Something My Uncle Told Me: Blaggardy Folk Songs From The Southern United States. 1981. Rounder Records.