When I was a kid my dad used to mow this big field near our house like a football field in the fall, and a baseball diamond in the summer. The field was owned by a local farmer, and he let us do whatever we wanted with it if we took care of it.
There were two barns at the far end. A small one and a big one. Hit it over the barn was a home run, it started to get to easy to hit it over the small one, and it took 20 plus minutes searching for the ball in the hay field, so over the small barn became an out.