Ex-Pitcher

In 1988 I was a baseball great About to break The all-time pitching record of the day Most no-hitters played I would cement my fate as a no-no hall of famer Sad to say I let it slip away because I hate the wave You disrespect the game And everyone who plays If you participate It was the 8th of June and on that afternoon I pitched a perfect tune until the bottom 9th After the second out the wave came crashing down From the pitcher's mound I pitched a ball into the batter's arm with rage I couldn't concentrate because I hate the wave And on this awful day it starts to rain The dugout empties of all teammates They curse and claim I won't get away I try and run but I can't escape Then my arm it breaks, bone separates And tears of pain stream down my face As I curse the wave For the gifts it gave On this final day I ever play The game And now I'm old and gray I'm sixty-eight Things are going great because I still get paid From my endorsement deal Of a stainless steel toaster over With seal of approval upon it, engraved They gave it a name Of which I have learned to embrace They call it t'The Wave' They are calling it 'The Wave'