It’s the final stop, the last objective, the big show. It’s where thoughts born in backyards are finally understand, where the fences are Farther. The grandstands are better. And the attention is brighter. It’s where thieves run faster, pitchers throw harder and the sluggers go deeper. Where the bats are bigger, the spikes are sharper and the comebacks are harder to swallow. It’s where home runs are ruthian and fastballs catch fire. It’s where a monster lurks in left, where bombers terrorize the night, and where the confines aren’t always so friendly. It’s the bigs.



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