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We lost our friend and varisty baseball coach over the weekend.

http://www.lowellsun.com/ci_3481418

Peter was a terrific coach and teacher. He was an inspiration to our boys and to the communities of Westford and Andover. It is always sad to see someone so young leave us so soon and once again reminds us of how fleeting life is and how important it is to pay attention to the "little things" every day.

HC
I'm not out of order! You're out of order! The whole freakin' system is out of order! You want the truth? You want the truth?! You can't HANDLE the truth!
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Holden

So very sorry to hear about this loss to your family. I have been there and can certainly feel for you as you find your way through all this pain.

I can also attest to the feelings and emotions that will sweep though your community...friends who are saddend by the loss of a very young coach...these people will help mend your heart. God Bless

Oh we never know where life will take us
I know its just a ride on the wheel
And we never know when death will shake us
And we wonder how we will feel

So goodbye my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the time together through all the years
Will take away these tears
I'm okay now
Goodbye my friend....
Game called....

Game Called. Across the field of play
the dusk has come, the hour is late.
The fight is done and lost or won,
the player files out through the gate.
The tumult dies, the cheer is hushed,
the stands are bare, the park is still.
But through the night there shines the light,
home beyond the silent ill.

Game Called. Where in the golden light
the bugle rolled the reveille.
The shadows creep where night falls deep,
and taps has called the end of play.
The game is done, the score is in,
the final cheer and jeer have passed.
But in the night, beyond the fight,
the player finds his rest at last.

Game Called.

Upon the field of life
the darkness gathers far and wide,
the dream is done, the score is spun
that stands forever in the guide.
Nor victory, nor yet defeat
is chalked against the players name.
But down the roll, the final scroll,
shows only how he played the game.

Deepest condolences.........this poem from Grantland Rice seems appropriate...

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