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Trachsel is pitching tonight out at Shea
I can see the red seamed baseballs flying a long long way
Oh and I can see Mets fans waving goodbye
God it looks like Trachsel, must be the tears in my eyes
They say he eats innings, and that’s what he’s done
But it seems that when he pitches, he gives up just so many runs
Oh and we should know, we’ve seen him enough
Lord don’t pitch Trachsel, I hate losing too much
Trachsel, you bummer. You’re as bad as can be
We all still feel the pain of the home runs you yield
You pitch the ball. They hit it off the wall.
Trachsel, you’re so bad. You’re the worst of them all.
(Instrumental Interlude)
Oh, oh, oh, Trachsel, you bummer. You’re as bad as can be
We all still feel the pain of the home runs you yield
You pitch the ball. They hit it off the wall.
Trachsel, you’re so bad. You’re the worst of them all.
Trachsel is pitching tonight out at Shea
I can see the red seamed baseballs flying a long long way
Oh and I can see Mets fans waving goodbye
God it looks like Trachsel, must be the tears in my eyes
Oh God it looks like Trachsel, must be the tears in my eyes
June 7, 2001: Steve Trachsel signed a free agent contract with the Mets and after getting lit several times was sent to the minors. This was written just before his first start after returning from the minor leagues.