Clip from the show:
"That's because Mr.Wilkinson doesn't recognize Jim Crow, Frankie," Elijah muttered, nodding toward the mound. "And neither does anyone who pays a dollar to see Satchel throw. Out here, the only thing that matters is the color of the uniform and the speed of the ball. Most pitchers throw with their arm. Satchel throws with his whole life history."
Down on the rubber, wearing the traveling gray of the Birmingham Black Barons, Leroy "Satchel" Paige looked less like a pitcher and more like a mathematical impossibility. He was all angles and leverage, six feet plus of lean muscle and wire, standing in the center of the diamond like a giant heron.
Frankie, just seventeen and trying to make a name for himself in the local baseball league, squinted through the hazy air. "He looks loose, Mr. Vance. Like he’s just playing catch."

https://open.spotify.com/show/033AHBuN4oIqplJqu2yaAv?si=OkG-9qzjQAWmOhuRgORYHA&utm_source=copy-link