Peter Galloway Huidekoper

Hello Hank,

I just wanted to send condolences your way regarding the passing of your father.

Although Little League baseball was a bit of a struggle for me, playing for The Stags and playing for your father is one of those great childhood memories that all of us have in one form or another. It wasn't easy getting yelled at by your father on the field (Hit the bloody ball!) only to go home to be lectured by my father (another strong personality) about the principles of hitting. But, although I didn't realize it at the time, I needed that. I was quite an underachiever as a LL ballplayer. Yes, your Dad the crew-cutted, gum-chewing, with his dark-suit pants and white collared-shirt - was always tough . . . and always fair.

I still remember the first phone call he made to me to let me know that I had been drafted by The Stags. During our conversation he asked me what position I preferred to play and, reflexively but not to impress, I said that I would play anywhere. That drew a hearty response of Atta Boy! from your Dad.

I remember, too, my first home run (one of three in my Little League career!). To this day, I still remember as I watched the ball sail high and far to straight-away centerfield: all around me was silence. I heard nothing except your father exclaim That's gone!

I remember some of my strikeouts, too. Those hit the bloody ball moments. But, I won't get into those.

Another memory: your cute little sister Annie wearing her Stags cap while quietly, dutifully and efficiently performing her responsibilities as the ballgirl.

A few years after Little League, I went on to play Pony League baseball and I was actually the 1970 MVP. One day during that year, you said to me that my father can't believe that you are leading the league in hitting in Pony League. Fact is, I couldn't believe it, either. I shared that story with my father the other night. We both got a big chuckle out of it.

And, someday I should share with you how, during my second year on the team, your father handled a situation when he found out that one of his players (hint: initials JW) told a player on a rival team what our steal sign was. Probably my best memory of all.

All in all, my lackluster hitting most likely contributed to a number of sleepless nights for your father. For that, I apologize. But, I can't imagine having played for any other team or any other coach. Fortunate, indeed, am I.