
How Hill Denson planted a ballpark backdrop that became part of Southern Miss baseball lore
On a warm spring afternoon in Hattiesburg, the journey to Pete Taylor Park doesn’t always begin in a parking lot or along Highway 49 or Hardy Street. It often begins on the Longleaf Trace.
Bikes glide through the shade. Joggers pass beneath towering pines. A line of golf carts rolls quietly down the trail. Families dressed in black and gold, coolers packed, heading toward Pete Taylor Park for a Southern Miss baseball game.
As they move through the trees, it’s easy to miss the connection. Because just beyond right field at the ballpark, another wall of pines stands tall, one that didn’t happen by accident.

A Vision That Began in the 1980s
When Hill Denson took over the Southern Miss baseball program in 1984, the program wasn’t what it is today. Crowds were smaller. The atmosphere was still developing. It was the first year of Pete Taylor Park. But Denson understood something that goes beyond baseball.
If you want fans to care…
You have to give them a reason to stay.
He once joked: Even charging fans a dollar, was enough to get them to stay.
It wasn’t really about the price. It was about the experience.
But Denson had a vision for what the ballpark could become. Soon after the ballpark’s opening, he planted pine trees beyond the right-field fence. Trees that were, at the time, barely noticeable. Those trees were intentionally placed as part of shaping the atmosphere beyond right field.
The trees were only about six inches tall when first planted. What Denson saw wasn’t what those trees were.
It was what they would become.
More Than Just a Backdrop
Back then, they were barely noticeable. Just small pine saplings sitting out past the fence.
Now ? They’re part of the identity of the place. And somehow, everything around them grew with them.
The open space beyond right field slowly turned into a gathering place. Fans started lingering there, driving their cars up and tailgating. Then building traditions.
Eventually, it became the Right Field Roost. One of the most recognizable fan sections in college baseball.
Now, those trees do more than provide shade. They create atmosphere. They give the Roost its identity.

The Right Field Roost
Nowhere is that more obvious than beyond right field. What started as open space eventually became one of the most unique scenes in college baseball. The Right Field Roost isn’t just a section, it’s a reflection of everything Denson believed the game day experience should be.
This isn’t just an outfield section, it’s a culture.
- Fans arrive and park their trucks hours early
- Grills are going before first pitch
- Music plays between innings
- Conversations carry across the fence
And when a Southern Miss batter sends one deep to right…The Roost erupts.
Fans lean against the fence, talk to each other, talk to players, grill food, and settle in like they’ve got nowhere else to be.
And most of the time…They don’t.

A Legacy That Still Shows Up
Hill Denson finished his career with hundreds of wins and helped elevate Southern Miss baseball onto the national stage.
But one of his most lasting contributions isn’t found in a record book. It’s found in the stands.
It’s in the fans who arrive early and don’t rush out.
It’s in the conversations that last nine innings.
It’s in the simple idea that if you create the right atmosphere…
People will stay.
The Rhythm of The Pete
Watch a game long enough, and you start to notice it. Nobody’s rushing.
Fans settle into the Roost under the trees. Conversations stretch across innings. Kids move in and out of the action. The game unfolds at its own pace.
And those pine trees just stand there, quietly shaping the experience.
They block the outside world.
They hold in the atmosphere.
They make everything feel a little more grounded.

A Living Legacy
Today, those trees tower over right field, far removed from the small saplings Denson first planted.
They’ve outgrown generations of players.
They’ve watched the program rise.
They’ve become one of the most recognizable features in Southern Miss baseball.
And in a way, they represent exactly what Hill Denson built.
Something patient.
Something lasting.
Something that only gets better with time.

