Before drifting into journalism at age 26, I was a vocationally vague young man, wandering through a series of meaningless odd jobs while trying to "find myself." My mother worried constantly that her only son would end up as an educated bum, and considering my incurable obsession with handicapping and gambling, Eleanor may have been right.

A creative outlet in my 20s was writing song lyrics. Many people found them entertaining, but unfortunately they had no commercial potential. Some of the titles -- "Brain Fever," "Existence, It's a Loser's Game" and "It All Boils Down to Zero, Jack" -- may indicate why. For almost 30 years, I never wrote another one, until now.

It's high time I cashed in on my warped but agile mind's gift for creating amusing couplets, so I'm jumping on the Smarty Jones bandwagon with this little ditty in honor of Philadelphia's favorite son. I can't play guitar or piano, so I need a collaborator to write the music. Any simple tune will do, and we could have a monster hit if Smarty, as expected, wins the Triple Crown. Any prospective tunesmith can contact me at McNamBreed@aol.com, and my people will get in touch with your people.

And now, Eddie Mac at the Track is proud to present, for the first time on any Web site ...

The Ballad of Smarty Jones

"If working-class heroes are what you like,
Take the Route 1 exit off the Penn. Turnpike,
On Philly Park's backstretch you'll find living proof
That Pegasus is living underneath a tin roof.

He's the perfect hero who's wired and inspired,
No matter how far he runs, he never gets tired,
At Pimlico he surpassed what he did at Churchill,
And on June 5th he'll provide the ultimate thrill.

Chorus:
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones,
He's bound for immortality
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones
He's the people's horse for you and me.

For too long in Philly we've been backing clowns
Our worthless home teams have all let us down,
But this superstar has got what it takes
To go to New York and win the Belmont Stakes.

We'll pack cheesesteaks and a hunk of scrapple,
And point cars and buses toward the Big Apple,
This Triple Crown excitement is spinetingling,
So we'll calm our nerves with bottles of Yuengling.

Chorus:
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones
He's bound for immortality,
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones,
He's the people's horse for you and me.

Any horse trying to beat him is an also-ran,
They're just little boys and Smarty is the man,
He crushes them and never takes a deep breath,
Betting against Smarty is pari-mutuel death.

At the top of the stretch he'll take off like a rocket,
And put five million more into Chappy's pocket,
Philadelphia will rule the sporting universe,
As long-suffering fans exult instead of curse.

Chorus:
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones,
He's bound for immortality
Go Smarty Jones, go Smarty Jones,
He's the people's horse for you and me.