Hey coach, back when you were really pitching, how fast were you throwing it? I don't...

Joel De La Garza: [while him and Jimmy play catch] Hey coach, back when you were really pitching, how fast were you throwing it? Jimmy: I don't know. 85, 86? Joel De La Garza: That's not too bad. Jimmy: It is when the other guy's throwing 90. Joel De La Garza: Coach, let's see you bring one. Jimmy: Can't. Promised too many doctors. Joel De La Garza: Come on, coach, one isn't going to kill you. Come on, feed me! Hunter: Yeah, dad, bring the heat! Joel De La Garza: [Jim gets himself ready while Joel waits in the catcher's position] Feed me, coach. [Jim pauses, then winds up and throws his fastball, which audibly whisses by and hits hard into Joel's glove, much to the shock of him and Hunter] Hunter: Woah! Joel De La Garza: Coach, where did that come from? Jimmy: [Smiles] Forgot how good that sounded.

Slow enough that scouts stopped using the word "fast." Jim, how fast were you throwing? I don't know. 85, 86. Why? You just threw 98 miles an hour. Nah. Dozen straight pitches. Three radar guns. Same thing on all of 'em. Nah, D-Dave, there's no way that I -- I've been a scout a long time now, and Rule Number One is arms slow down when they get older. Listen, Jim, I call the office and I tell them I got a guy here almost twice these kids' age, I'm gonna get laughed at. But if I don't call in a 98-mile-an-hour fastball, I'm gonna get fired. I'm just letting you know that there's a chance you might get a call on this. You figure out what I saw out there today, you let me know, okay? Okay.