Bite the Bullet

A little of both, I'm afraid.
I came 3,000 miles for the Kentucky Derby.
Another 2,000
to see Joe Gans box Battling Nelson.

Forty-two fantastic rounds.
It was bloody marvellous.

-You know who won?
-I'm not interested.

Not interested in who won?
That's not only unbelievable...

:22:22's positively un-American.
What does interest you?

Right now? Just a job.
What did Parker pay you?
$50 a month? $60?

You win this race,
and you'll get three years' pay.

What's the horse get out of it? Colic?
Cracked bones?
You ever see a horse run himself dead just
to please the man on his back? What for?

-Get his picture in the paper? For glory?
-Some men live for it.

Horse don't give a damn who wins a race.
Me, neither.

In the interest of the West's
greatest horse, the bronco...

...and myself, who grows them,
I'm putting up an extra $1,000...

:23:14 the bronco rider who wins!
I'd like a chance
to win back some of my dad's money.

I figured you would.
-How do you like the joint?
-It ain't Kansas City.

Would you believe so many chumps
in the middle of Nowhere, U.S.A.?

Like shooting fish in a barrel.
-Nice, fat sucker fish.
-All you need is the right bait, Rosie.

It takes more than a deck of cards
and a pair of knockers.

Horse race pulled them in.
This crowd, their hustle's the fast buck.