Latest news with #JesseCole
Yahoo
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Why the Savannah Bananas — not the Dallas Cowboys — are America's Team
SAVANNAH, Ga. — It's hours before first pitch at historic Grayson Stadium, and a swirl of strange and disconnected activity covers the field. Down the right-field line, two ballplayers in banana-yellow jerseys are getting loose, firing easy warmup tosses at one another with more velocity than you've ever thrown anything in your life. At the netting behind home plate, a young girl holds up a sign proclaiming in multicolored lettering that she's here to celebrate her '9th b-day.' Overhead, speakers play a rotating sequence of singalong songs — 'Shout,' 'YMCA,' 'Don't Stop Believin'.' So far, a normal enough scene at a lazy-summer minor-league ballpark. But look in another direction, and you'll see two players rehearsing a complicated handstand-into-a-faceplant onto air mattresses. Near the visiting dugout, two players are standing in front of an iPhone on a tripod, pressing play on a video and mimicking the dance moves onscreen, again and again. Out by home plate, a dozen players are following a choreographer's moves, kicking, dipping, twisting and spinning as the Black-Eyed Peas' 'Imma Be' plays overhead. This is Bananaland, and strange as it seems, this is now the territory of conquerors. You probably know the basics of the Savannah Bananas, the minor league team-turned-traveling extravaganza that combines baseball with theater, sport and performance art colliding in a frenetic, high-energy show. Built by owners Jesse and Emily Cole on the bones of a collegiate summer league, the Bananas play 'Banana Ball,' a version of baseball with its own set of rules — whoever scores the most runs in an inning gets a point, for instance, and if a fan catches a foul ball, the batter is out. The Bananas have starred in documentaries, sold out minor-league stadiums, even hosted an ocean cruise. And they've almost certainly turned up on your social media feed, players dancing to 'The Greatest Showman' or 'Thunderstruck' in between pitches. We're for the fans, and fans come for an escape from everything. We don't have a political ideology. We don't have a religious ideology. We're just Bananas, you know. We're here to make people happy. Zack Frongillo Somewhere along the line, though, the Bananas broke contain. They graduated from minor-league parks to major-league venues, selling out legendary ballparks like Fenway Park and Camden Yards. During a recent weekend in Los Angeles, Bananas tickets sold on the secondary market for more than tickets to an actual Dodgers-Yankees World Series rematch. And now, this cavalcade of dancing goofballs has leveled up again, selling out straight-up NFL stadiums. Banana Ball has invaded places like Tampa, Nashville and Charlotte, selling out all the way up to the upper-deck light fixtures. It's fair to wonder how in the world the Bananas could draw tens of thousands of people to a football stadium to watch baseball … provided, that is, you've never seen the Bananas yourself in person. If your entire experience with the Bananas is a steady stream of goofy dances on your feed, it'd be easy to slag off the entire enterprise as silly and inconsequential — and, this being 2025, many social media cranks have done just that . But look a little deeper. We're in an era where major sports franchises, in their perpetual quest to improve profitability and valuation, now treat their fans as either perpetual ATMs or irrelevant nuisances. It's damn near impossible to follow your favorite team on a daily basis without shelling out hundreds in streaming service subscription costs. Professional athletes are more walled-off than ever before from their fans, throwing crumbs of social media postings while remaining resolutely distant. Arrogant, angry blather dominates sports media, the strongest remaining connection between teams and their fans. At every turn, teams, athletes and media all exploit fans' love and devotion for their own petty, selfish, short-sighted, profit-taking ends. It's never been more expensive to be a fan, and it's never been less fulfilling, either. Is it any wonder, then, that a group of goofballs who are clearly enjoying themselves has found an unexpected connection with fans? Everyone else, it seems, has lost the plot on what sports ought to be, a diversion and an inspiration. By both happy accident and deliberate design, the Bananas have stepped into this void left behind by misguided major professional sports leagues … and they're TikTok-dancing all the way to the bank. The Savannah Bananas do a line dance on the infield at Fenway Park. (Boston Globe via Getty Images) This isn't a hack 'journalist goes to small-town ballpark in search of a vanished America' story, but if it was, Grayson Stadium would be an ideal starting point. Nestled among long avenues of oaks draped with Spanish moss, the park has hosted everyone from Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth — who beat the Georgia Teachers College 15-1 here back in 1935 — to John Smoltz and Chipper Jones. 'Grayson's great, because this is our home,' says Andy Archer, a surfer-turned-pitcher for the Bananas. (Every player here has a wild backstory.) 'This is where we get recharged, this is where the game of Banana Ball was created, this is where the most intimate interactions with fans are, because this is our smallest venue.' That's a hell of a humblebrag, but it also happens to be true. About five thousand fans will pack Grayson on this warm night in late June, chattering, stomping, eating and drinking their way through two hours of gameplay. Some of them will be dialed in to the game, some of them will be more focused on their nachos, but all of them are going to get an experience unlike anything else in sports right now. I've come here to see if I can understand how the Bananas are building deep fan connections while other franchise fan connections are fraying, expanding their tent while other teams are plotting ever-more-complex ways to soak their existing customers. And it all starts with the free food. We could raise prices, but … why? If we can build a sustainable company and take care of people, then that's enough for us. Bananas co-owner Emily Cole Yes, free. Augusta National justifiably gets praise for its $1.50 pimento cheese sandwiches, and the Atlanta Falcons have a fan-friendly menu that lets you fill up on gameday essentials for about $10 a head. But the Bananas have them both beat; every ticket entitles you to as many Cokes, hot dogs, burgers, chicken sandwiches, and cookies as you can cram down. (Ice cream, alcoholic beverages and other items actually do require payment, but a reasonable one.) 'We would rather people feel like they're getting just outrageous value, and tell others about that, than try to nickel-and-dime them in the short term, and they feel like, Ugh, I just don't know if I could do that ever again,' team president Jared Orton says. That little tweak — fold the food into the price of a $35 ticket — is part of what's making the Bananas so popular. Consciously or not, the Bananas have become a de facto antidote to so much of what modern American professional sports have become — money-focused, arrogant, distant, corporate. Sure, you may not be a big fan of a pitcher dancing to 'Time of My Life' after a strikeout, but you've got to admit … it's a lot better than paying $18 for a beer after getting nailed for $40 in ticket service fees. (That $35 ticket is the total price, by the way. Fees included. You're welcome.) Of course, the free food only goes so far. The Bananas have to deliver on the field as well, and that's where they've cracked the sports-entertainment code. The players on the Bananas — and their 'rival' teams, the Party Animals, Tailgaters and Firefighters — are ballplayers first, entertainers second. 'What makes the game of Banana Ball pretty strong is that it's rooted in baseball players,' says Danny Hosley, a former college ballplayer who left a masters program to suit up for the Bananas. 'If you just got a bunch of entertainers to come out here and jazz everybody with all this stuff, to a baseball fan, it would just [be], I don't want to watch that, it's not real baseball.' You can't fake a fastball. And you can't script a home run. The run-of-show bits — and there are so, so many, throughout the entire two-hour game — don't get off the ground if the players fail to commit, and then execute. 'The game changes a little bit, but ultimately there's a guy on the mound trying to get you out, and you're trying to take the guy deep,' says Jake Skole, one of the black-and-pink-suited Party Animals. 'There's still the competitiveness there, which is cool, and at my age (33), we get to put on a uniform and compete every day. … It's the best part.' Skole is perhaps the best example of what the Bananas offer to potential players. He's a former first-round draft pick of the Texas Rangers — he was picked a few spots after Bryce Harper and Manny Machado — who later played college football in the late 2010s at Georgia. (He was part of the team that was on the wrong end of Alabama's 2nd-and-26 national title.) He jumped at the chance to join the Bananas family, even though he admits to some trepidation early on. 'When I first showed up and we were walking into rehearsals, I'm like, 'Rehearsals?' I'm still not the best dancer on the team, but I'm more open to getting goofy and doing things,' he says. 'You have to lose a bit of your seriousness when it comes to some preparation, understanding that in one of your four at bats, there might be a ball on fire coming your way.' The Savannah Bananas greet fans under the grandstands of Fenway Park before the game. (Boston Globe via Getty Images) That hypothetical 'ball on fire' is the second element of the Bananas' talent + entertainment equation, and it's a key reason why the Bananas have eclipsed the current statistically-driven game in the key metric of 'fun.' Pro baseball swung so deep into the realm of analytics — multiple pitching changes, interminable at-bats, fielding shifts — that the sport needed a fundamental come-to-Jesus moment to save baseball from itself. The Bananas understand that baseball fans don't come to a game to watch dueling executions of probabilities. They come to the ballpark to see dingers and strikeouts, executed by players who look like they actually enjoy playing a kids' game for money. 'What makes a good Banana Ball player is, in a weird way, the ability to compartmentalize the entire experience,' Orton says. 'The ability to be great on the field, off the field, with fans, with kids, create content, be great on video, be willing to not take yourself too seriously but still take your craft very seriously in what you do. That's what it takes.' That balance — being serious about having fun — is at the heart of the Bananas experience. From the moment the ropes drop — and that literally happens, the team drops ropes to welcome in its first fans — you're in the center of nonstop spectacle, everything from a New Orleans-style second-line march to a receiving line of players for every fan entering the park to singalongs in the courtyard in front of the stadium … and that's all before the first pitch. Once the game begins … strap in, friend, because you're in for a ride. The Bananas have stripped down every element of the current sporting experience to the studs and rebuilt it with a new emphasis on the fan. Games are 120 fully-packed minutes, no more. Costs are up-front and obvious. Parking and concessions, at least at Grayson, are fixed, controlled and cheap-to-free. The players are fully committed at every moment, whether they're on the field or right there in the stands next to you. There aren't long, dull TV timeouts or interminable video reviews. There's no advertising on the walls at Grayson. The focus is entirely on the production in front of you — the production you've paid for once, so there's no need to keep squeezing you for more. It's all literally like a live-action TikTok scroll. There's barely time to take in one moment before another bit of spectacle comes rushing in. For example: major-league ballplayers have one walkup song playing as they approach the plate. Bananas players will have three or four different songs playing while they're at bat. You get started singing along to one tune, bang, here comes another right after it. The entire experience is whiplash-quick and frantic, but then so's a rollercoaster, and nobody boards one of those expecting a leisurely ride. 'We're taking inspiration from WWE, Cirque du Soleil, Instagram, YouTube, TikTok,' says Bananas entertainment director Zack Frongillo. 'We're being very intentional, watching what people are enjoying, and figuring out how to take that and implement it onto a baseball field. … As long as we can move fast and jump on trends, it's super-easy for our creative muscles to work.' Tonight's of-the-moment celebrations include references to the Jell-O shot competition at the College World Series and the notorious escaped Tennessee zebra. (A Party Animals player dressed as a zebra scampers across the infield between innings before being swept up in a net and carried back to the dugout.) Throughout the entire chaotic endeavor, in-uniform players from both teams make their way up into the stands, shaking hands, signing autographs and posing for selfies as the game goes on behind them. There's a brief recognition of the military — players in the stands shake servicemembers' hands — but the Bananas' focus is decidedly apolitical. 'We're for the fans, and fans come for an escape from everything,' Frongillo says. 'We don't have a political ideology. We don't have a religious ideology. We're just Bananas, you know. We're here to make people happy.' It's OK to cast a cynical eye at that; in an era defined by for-us-or-against-us, we're all suspicious of anyone who proclaims to stand outside it all. But that's our fault, not the Bananas; there really was a time in this country where we didn't run every single public or social interaction through an is-it-OK-to-like-this? political lens. The Bananas are, in that sense, a throwback, and it's clear that fans are reacting positively. 'What we try to do is bring in people who every single person in the audience can look at and say, I aspire to be that person,' Emily Cole says. 'Maybe for the little girls, it's Princess Potassia, right? Maybe for a young middle or high schooler who plays the tuba, maybe they're watching the Bananas Pep Band. For Dad, maybe he's watching the Mananas, the Dad Bod Cheer Squad, and he's like, Someday I'm going to be out there with them. For Grandma, maybe she's watching the Banana Nanas and saying, That's who I aspire to be. … Regardless of your age or your background or your interests, there should be something at our shows that will make you excited and make you want to go meet that person.' That connectivity — the bond between performer and audience, between player and fan — is at the heart of the Bananas experience, a bond that simply can't exist on opposite sides of a phone screen, or at the end of an algorithm. Not only that, the players seem like they're having a heck of a lot of fun, too. They fist-bump fans upon arrival to the park, they pose for pics, they sign anything and everything put in front of them. In a world where so many Baby Kobes are trying so hard to look hard , that openness and willingness to engage on the fans' level, isn't just refreshing … it's necessary. A sold out Bank of America Stadium sports a baseball diamond during the exhibition game between the Savannah Bananas and the Party Animals. Nearly 150,000 fans showed up for two games at the stadium where the Carolina Panthers play. (IMAGN IMAGES via Reuters Connect / Reuters) Which brings us around to those massive NFL stadiums. Pretty much the only element of the Bananas experience that's more difficult for the average fan than a 'real' baseball game is the actual purchase of tickets. There's a waiting list and a lottery and a whole lot of hope and prayer involved … and for a team that prides itself on delivering a reliably enjoyable experience to its fans, that's a real chokepoint. The departure from Savannah was a necessity for the Bananas to keep serving their legions of fans. Grayson only has a capacity of 5,000, and with a waiting list of 3 million, the math wasn't mathing. The calendar also works against the team; August in Savannah is not a delightful time. So on the road they went. The Bananas began with trips to Mobile, Alabama, and then some spring training facilities. They scaled up to major-league stadiums, and now, as of 2025, they're scheduled to hit 17 major-league stadiums and four football stadiums, taking a crew of 220 on the road. 'The goal was never, 'We want to play in football stadiums,'' Cole says. 'What it comes down to for us, and what it will always start with, is 'What is Fans First?' That is our guiding light, that is our northern star. That is how we try to answer every question or friction point that we have.' It's a rock-solid philosophy in theory, but how exactly do you put fans first when you're looking at a three- or four-tiered football stadium? Simple: You take the show to the fans, no matter where they are in the house. Cast members -– Emily's term — will rotate in and out of the lineup and into the stands. Pitchers done with their stint on the mound will head into the crowd to present roses to girls, dance with kids, bro it up with the bros. All the while, there's still the game happening on the field. 'It can still be a highly competitive, highly talented game with the trick plays, the showmanship, the excitement,' Orton says. 'But also the person in section 421 or whatever still gets a fantastic experience, still gets to see some of the characters face to face in their section, still gets to get a few autographs, still gets to sing and dance and laugh as much as the person sitting in section 101 right behind home plate.' Every Bananas date through the end of August — when they'll visit the Pittsburgh Pirates' PNC Field — is sold out. The demand is there, so how much longer will the Bananas hold off the forces of capitalism? How much longer can this experiment in fan service continue? For heaven's sake, how much longer will they give away free food at Grayson? 'There are people every single day who reach out and say 'You guys are crazy. Your tickets should be triple the price they are,'' Cole says, laughing. 'When you have over three million people on a wait list, the demand is there, you could say. We could raise prices, but … why? If we can build a sustainable company and take care of people, then that's enough for us.' Still, the growth is coming. Starting next year, the Bananas will add two more teams, bringing the total to six … meaning there are enough teams to create a full-on Banana Ball League, with three games happening simultaneously in different cities around the country. Beyond that, the Bananas are looking to prepare the next generation with Banana Ball camps, plus there's the Banana Cruise, plus … who knows? 'I don't know where we're going to be in three years,' Cole says, 'because it probably hasn't even been thought of yet.' One element she promises won't become a part of the Bananas' future: external funding, and all the strings attached thereto. 'Bringing in outside investment is just not on the horizon for us. It's not in the plans, and we don't want it to be,' she says. 'And if that means maybe not taking a certain step a certain year because you need more capital, then that's OK with us. We would rather grow more slowly and more intentionally than bringing in outside dollars, because at that point, we feel like we would be answering to somebody besides the fan. We'd be answering to the shareholder or to the investor.' Still, perhaps one day fans will decide they've seen enough of the Bananas' spectacle. Perhaps Jesse and Emily will sell to an owner who cuts a corner here and there. Perhaps the allure of private investment will become too strong to resist. Perhaps what makes the Bananas special will be sacrificed in favor of what makes the Bananas money. And perhaps not. There's no law that says every American success story has to end by selling out the fan — it sure seems that way, yes, but there actually isn't a law — so maybe the Bananas are showing a new way for teams to connect with fans. On this night, the Party Animals pretty thoroughly outplay the home team, but thanks to the rules of Banana Ball, the Bananas are still in this right to the end … when they lose 3-2. It's their fourth loss in five games, further proof that this isn't a pre-scripted show against a Harlem Globetrotters-style weak opponent. The fans file out into the Savannah night, some clutching souvenir yellow Banana baseballs, some wearing brand-new Bananas merch, at least one still snacking on a garbage can lid full of nachos. I get to my car and, despite the throngs of thousands filing out of the stadium into the narrow streets, I'm still on the open road barely a minute later. It's just one more fan-friendly magic trick in a night full of them.
Yahoo
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Savannah Bananas baseball is set to go off this Fourth of July weekend, courtesy of Roku
The Savannah Bananas, who played the Firefighters in Anaheim back in May, will meet them again at Fenway Park on Sunday. The game will stream live on Roku. (Luke Johnson / Los Angeles Times) The Savannah Bananas, the team that went viral playing a hilarious brand of baseball, are coming this Sunday to a streamer near you. Could there be a more exciting Fourth of July weekend, America? No. No, there could not be. Advertisement Read more: Going bananas: Why Savannah Bananas tickets cost more than a Dodgers-Yankees rematch Sunday at 12:30 p.m. local time, 3:30 p.m. Eastern, the Bananas have a rematch against the Firefighters, the team they played at Anaheim Stadium at the end of May. That game will go down at Boston's Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox, and will be streamed live on the Roku Channel. 'We can't wait to bring the fast-paced game of Banana Ball to new fans all over the country on Roku!" Savannah Bananas owner Jesse Cole said in a news release. "And you better believe that we've got some surprises in store for Fenway!" Guess there's little or no reason, except maybe having no internet access, to wait until the CW does its own broadcast of the Bananas playing the Texas Tailgaters on July 27 at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. Advertisement "Banana Ball" — for those who don't have TikTok, Instagram, Facebook Reels, X or any Bananas-loving real-world friends — incorporates humor, gymnastics, lip-syncs and snappy dance choreography in an exhibition baseball game with rules that definitely don't match those of Major League Baseball (though many of the players once had MLB aspirations). Only the Bananas deliver baby races, a dancing umpire and backflips before balls are caught in the outfield. Can't get that in Oklahoma City. Plus the games are limited to two hours max, something even the much-loved MLB pitch clock can't deliver. This year, the team has sold out 18 major league ballparks, plus three football stadiums with capacities of more than 70,000. Advertisement Tickets typically are available only through a lottery — and last time we checked the wait-list for that lottery, it was more than 3 million names long. Try to join it now and the Bananas website will tell you sure, go ahead, but be prepared to hold your horses till next season, my friend. Last season's games drew a million fans total. 'There is truly no sports experience with the same action as a Savannah Bananas game,' said Joe Franzetta, the head of Roku Media's sports division, in the news release. 'We look forward to using the power of our platform to amplify the game directly to both die-hard audiences and millions of new fans about to discover something special.' Read more: The CW will broadcast Savannah Bananas baseball madness as network leans into live sports As owner Cole told The Times back in 2022, 'We've always been very clear about our goal. We exist to make baseball fun.' Advertisement Folks with a Roku TV or who stream through a Roku device should be good to go for Sunday's free broadcast. The Roku Channel can also be accessed online at and on iOS and Android devices and various and sundry smart TVs. And remember to set your DVR to record the CW on July 27. Former Times reporting fellow Anthony De Leon contributed to this report. Sign up for Screen Gab, a free newsletter about the TV and movies everyone's talking about from the L.A. Times. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Savannah Bananas baseball is set to go off this Fourth of July weekend, courtesy of Roku
The Savannah Bananas, the team that went viral playing a hilarious brand of baseball, are coming this Sunday to a streamer near you. Could there be a more exciting Fourth of July weekend, America? No. No, there could not be. Sunday at 12:30 p.m. local time, 3:30 p.m. Eastern, the Bananas have a rematch against the Firefighters, the team they played at Anaheim Stadium at the end of May. That game will go down at Boston's Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox, and will be streamed live on the Roku Channel. 'We can't wait to bring the fast-paced game of Banana Ball to new fans all over the country on Roku!' Savannah Bananas owner Jesse Cole said in a news release. 'And you better believe that we've got some surprises in store for Fenway!' Guess there's little or no reason, except maybe having no internet access, to wait until the CW does its own broadcast of the Bananas playing the Texas Tailgaters on July 27 at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. 'Banana Ball' — for those who don't have TikTok, Instagram, Facebook Reels, X or any Bananas-loving real-world friends — incorporates humor, gymnastics, lip-syncs and snappy dance choreography in an exhibition baseball game with rules that definitely don't match those of Major League Baseball (though many of the players once had MLB aspirations). Only the Bananas deliver baby races, a dancing umpire and backflips before balls are caught in the outfield. Can't get that in Oklahoma City. Plus the games are limited to two hours max, something even the much-loved MLB pitch clock can't deliver. This year, the team has sold out 18 major league ballparks, plus three football stadiums with capacities of more than 70,000. Tickets typically are available only through a lottery — and last time we checked the wait-list for that lottery, it was more than 3 million names long. Try to join it now and the Bananas website will tell you sure, go ahead, but be prepared to hold your horses till next season, my friend. Last season's games drew a million fans total. 'There is truly no sports experience with the same action as a Savannah Bananas game,' said Joe Franzetta, the head of Roku Media's sports division, in the news release. 'We look forward to using the power of our platform to amplify the game directly to both die-hard audiences and millions of new fans about to discover something special.' As owner Cole told The Times back in 2022, 'We've always been very clear about our goal. We exist to make baseball fun.' Folks with a Roku TV or who stream through a Roku device should be good to go for Sunday's free broadcast. The Roku Channel can also be accessed online at and on iOS and Android devices and various and sundry smart TVs. And remember to set your DVR to record the CW on July 27. Former Times reporting fellow Anthony De Leon contributed to this report.
Forbes
20-06-2025
- Business
- Forbes
The Savannah Bananas Business Is Booming
Jesse Cole has built the Savannah Bananas into a world-class organization that is printing more and ... More more money. (Photo by Luke Johnson/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images) This the third in a series of articles on the Savannah Bananas. The first two can be found here and here. In 2023, the Savannah Bananas embarked upon their first real 'world tour,' playing 71 games across 21 states. When all was said and done, they played in front of 500,000 fans. The next year, they actually played in fewer states (20), but they went big time: In March, they played their first game in a major league stadium (Minute Maid Park, now known as Daikin Park, in Houston). In June, a dream came true for Bananas owner and Boston native Jesse Cole, as his team played a game at Fenway Park. Later that summer they played at Progressive Field in Cleveland. In September, they went to Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. And then in October, they took over LoanDepot Park in Miami. In between, they played at all sorts of minor league stadiums, entertaining fans each and every night. The final tally for 2024 was just more than one million happy customers. This year they set their sights even higher. Forty cities are on the schedule, across 28 states (plus the District of Columbia). They will play in 17 different MLB stadiums, including landmarks like Fenway Park (again), Yankee Stadium, and Camden Yards. But it is at Bank of America Stadium in Charlotte, North Carolina, where history was made. Over two nights earlier this month, the Savannah Bananas played in front of a total of 150,000 fans (75,000 each night). The Carolina Panthers normally play in that stadium on Sundays, but the city of Charlotte paid to convert into it a baseball field for marquee events over a weekend. When the 2025 campaign is done, the Bananas will have danced, twerked, back-flipped, breakdanced, and delighted more than two million fans. Any product specialist would love this level of growth. Jesse and his wife Emily, the co-founders and owners of the Bananas, are no different. But, when you ask Jesse about the ever-growing number of people their teams play in front of every night, he will tell you about the ever-growing level of stress to entertain. Standing on the infield two hours before the Bananas second game in Anaheim a couple of weeks ago, Jesse said to me: 'You see 45,000 fans. I see 45,000 people with whom we have to make a connection. 45,000 people who need to have the time of the lives. I feel that obligation, and am committed to making it happen.' That night in Anaheim set a two-day record for the team – playing in front of 90,000 fans. Fortunately for the Coles, that record was short-lived, as, referenced above, they broke it in Charlotte just one week later. The Bananas will play 48 games this summer, with 39 of them on the road, in states all over the country. They will play only nine games in their home ballpark, Grayson Stadium, which sits right in the heart of Savannah, Georgia. Fans cheer as the Savannah Bananas play their home opener against the Party Animals at Grayson ... More Stadium. (Photo by) And while the Bananas don't need any homefield advantage, they do enjoy the control they have at home. Jesse and Emily are quite meticulous about concessions, which are all-you-can-eat and included in the price of admission in Savannah (burgers, hot dogs, chips, cookies, soda, water, popcorn). Unfortunately, when they play on the road (roughly 80% of the time), they must cede control of concessions to the owner of stadium. Thus, they are subject to what the local teams offer and charge. And their efficiency. The Coles are so cognizant of wait times for snacks that Emily has been known to jump behind the counter and help expedite matters to get fans back to their seats as quickly as possible. In Savannah, tickets runs between $35-$40 – an incredible value considering all that it comes with. And if you want to become a VIB (a 'Very Important Banana,' of course), you can pay $125, which allows you to gain early entry to the park, and have pregame field access to meet and greet the players. Even at this low price, according to Tim Naddy, the Bananas' vice president of finance, the 'entire company can run off ticket revenues.' Unfortunately, demand for tickets blows away supply. As of this summer, there is a three million person waiting list (that is not a typo), so getting an email stating you have 'won' the lottery and providing you access to tickets to an upcoming game can feel like Christmas in July. Nearly everyone who gets an invitation purchases tickets; but they often resell them on the secondary market. While the Coles frown on this practice, there is not much they can do about it. StubHub is currently listing tickets for upcoming games from as low as $86 to well-over $400. Even the cheapest ticket on one of these sites is multiple times what the team charges, and the owners never want their entertainment offerings to become cost prohibitive. For the true Banana fan (Fanana?), one who wants to avoid paying exorbitant prices, you can join the K Club. Once a member of this illustrious organization – which will cost you just $59 this year – you can purchase up to six tickets to games before the lottery opens, giving you access to games, tickets, events, meet and greets, and premium experiences that never even reach the general public. There are K Club Ambassadors who serve you and provide members with the perfect experience. And, of course, K Club members get a first look at merchandise drops. And merchandise is where it is at. Go to a Bananas game and there will be more merchandise tents than you can shake a banana peel at. They have them for the Bananas as well as their opponents. Most fans don't leave the park without something – a hat, t-shirt, jacket, or even a special Banana Wilson glove. There are jerseys, stress balls, stuffed animals, and even underwear. Everywhere you look at a Bananas game you will see people clad head to toe in gear. The team keeps total merchandise sales and best-sellers close to the vest, and because they keep an incredible inventory, it is impossible to know which items go fastest and/or offer the best profit margin. But even without spreadsheets and P&Ls, it is clear that merchandise is a profit center for the club. Naddy, the finance vice president, keeps merchandise sales separate from other revenue streams to ensure that 'merchandising isn't supplementing operations.' An additional revenue source for the team is television broadcasting. They produce their own telecasts, and license various games to Disney+ and ESPN+. They have added TruTV, which is owned by TNT Sports, as an additional licensee. And that does not include their own YouTube channel. The team is looking to expand its television offerings, but they maintain that the in-person viewing is still the best way to experience the show. The Savannah Bananas are owned and operated by Fans First Entertainment, a privately held company. According to the Huddle Up Substack, it possible that the team is worth as much as $1 billion. But without auditing their books, or until Jesse and Emily take their company public or at least seek investors based on a valuation, it is impossible to know for sure. What is known for sure is that the business is booming and growing each and every season. They have already taken a cruise to The Bahamas and will be heading to Cozumel, Mexico next February. One doesn't need to squint very hard to see their self-named 'World Tour' expanding to Europe and beyond in the coming years. And yet, despite all of their accomplishments to date, the owners aren't resting on their laurels. They are using their success to continue to build their product, add teams, enhance the experience, and entertain even more fans.
Forbes
13-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
To Play For Savannah Bananas Takes All Sorts Of Special Skills
*This is the second in a multi-part series on the Savannah Bananas. The Savannah Bananas are a lot of things: a traveling circus; a close-knit group of players, performers, team members (not 'employees'); a family affair; and the best night you will have at the ballpark all year (non-October division). What they are most decidedly not: a way-station for ballplayers trying to find their way back to organized baseball. The Bananas are a social media phenomenon. There is a multi-part documentary on ESPN; reports on 60 Minutes; and a YouTube series, 'Bananaland: The Road To Cooperstown.' Not to mention that they maintain an active presence on TikTok. But while watching at home is interesting, the Savannah Bananas need to be seen in person to be truly experienced. If you are unfamiliar with the team and their story, my colleague here at Candace Oehler wrote a great piece about the team and their owners, Jesse and Emily Cole. But when this writer visited the team in Arizona, I wanted to learn a little bit about the stars of the show: the players. Research showed that a great many hail from the minors or independent baseball. The team actually started in 2016 in the Coastal Plains League, which is a summer collegiate league, so the first batch of players came from that cohort. But what about today? As a quick review, the Bananas are made up of roughly 25 players. And they play against the Party Animals, the Firefighters, the Visitors, and the Texas Tailgaters. While at first blush it would seem that each opponent is the baseball equivalent of the Washington Generals (with the Bananas serving as the Harlem Globetrotters), that could not be further from the truth. As Jesse Cole told me, there are two ways in which Banana Ball is different than the nearly 100-year old basketball traveling roadshow: (1) The Bananas put on a different show every night (at least 15 different routines each game); and (2) There is real competition on the field. The outcome of each Bananas game is not pre-ordained; the players on both sides are out there to perform, and to win. Because of that, I wondered if the players were putting their best foot forward every time with the hope of catching (back) on with a team in organized baseball. But in interviews with more than a dozen players across multiple teams, only one even considered the possibility. One pitcher (who shall remain nameless to protect his anonymity), cut by two different professional organizations, said he would at least answer the phone if a professional club were to call; but he doubted he would take the offer if one came. He was having too much with this group. Jesse, and his wife, Emily, run the Bananas as a team, as a business, and as a family. And, to that end, they work overtime to make sure everyone is taken care – financially as well as emotionally. Unlike professional baseball (including the major leagues), the Bananas work on year-round contracts. That means everyone in the organization – most specifically, the players – are guaranteed income for twelve months, not just six or seven as is the case in other professional ranks. The players are well-renumerated. While no one – not the players nor the owners – would divulge what each gets paid, it was intimated that the players make considerably more than typical minor league salaries (even taking into consideration the new minor league collective bargaining agreement that was introduced in 2023), but well below big league money. It is, without question, a living wage. Further, each player has full health benefits. As in organized baseball, all contracts are individualized based on what the player brings to the table. Baseball skills, fans-first focus, ability to create unforgettable moments, level of fan engagement – both on and off the field, including on social media – are all components of what a player may get paid. Social media, in fact, is a massive part of the equation. The Bananas have more than 10 million followers on TikTok (up from 8.4 million this time last year), nearly three million on Instagram (up more than 10% since last year), but a mere 216,000 on X, formerly Twitter (which may say something about the age of their followers). With so much of their fan engagement done via the socials, the club is always looking for players who have – or can create – a huge following. Currently, infielder Jackson Olson is the leader by a mile, with 1.9 million followers on TikTok. But many of his teammates clock in with hundreds of thousands of followers, including Alex Ziegler, who has about 630,000, and was discovered by the club doing his bat tricks on social media. The Bananas want their players 'out there' hyping the game, the team, and the whole Banana ethos. Jesse and Emily operate with the mantra: 'Fans First. Entertain Always.' So, when the Bananas first formed to be the team(s) they would become, the vetting process for players was thorough, but tricky. Would a collegiate or former professional baseball player be willing to rip off his shirt and stand topless in the batter's box? How would he feel about twerking his way from the on-deck circle to the plate? Could he break out into dance on the mound, and then make a competitive pitch? What would these players do to give the fans the time of their life? At first, Jesse and Emily and their staff had to work extremely hard, looking all over the world to find the right balance of players who had the skills – both baseball and entertainment – to be part of this group. Now, with the organization's global success, they receive 'thousands' of submissions each day that they have to cull to see who will make a good member of any of their teams. While the pool of potential players has gotten larger, choosing the right players has not gotten easier. At the end of the day, the Coles want to make sure they have a competitive game and an unparalleled show. The competitive aspect is what I was dubious about. How could a guy who does a backflip while catching a flyball really care about winning? How does a team truly set up to play defense behind a pitcher standing nearly 11-feet tall wearing stilts? Would a player who could steal first base on a wild pitch really take the game seriously? Would players really chase a ball from the pitcher's mound to the warning track to keep a runner from scoring in what we would call 'extra innings' but they call a 'showdown?' The answer to each question is: MOST CERTAINLY! The competition is very much real. Pitchers are trying to strike out batters; batters are swinging for the fences; runners are trying to take the extra base; and fielders are trying to get outs – even if they add a whole lot of flair to the process. In the concourse after a game in Mesa, Arizona, one Banana player told me that he was happy they had won that night, as they had now won the series, which took a little pressure off of the next day's game. Another remarked that last season's seven-game losing streak to the Firefighters still stuck in his craw. When a Banana hit a hard shot into hole at short, he busted down the line, and was none-too-pleased when the throw beat him by half a step. You could see the player's frustration from the press box. Just because he was wearing a bright yellow uniform and the game had a clock and the first base coach was breakdancing, doesn't mean that the competitive zeal with which he has played the game his entire life went away. But, within seconds of heading back to the dugout, the frown was gone, and his smile was back. There was no thrown helmet or pouting on the bench. In fact, by the time he was back among his teammates, he was once again part of the party. But while in the batter's box and while running down that line, his fire burned just as hot as if there were twenty scouts in the stands judging his every movement. [It should be noted that no one actually sits in the dugout. Every coach and player is in front of the dugout enjoying the party as much as the fans in the stands.] Jesse and Emily have grand plans to grow their game. This summer they will be in 40 cities covering 28 states plus Washington, D.C. They currently have five teams, and are looking to add a sixth. The resumes and videos keep pouring in. There is no longer a dearth of players to choose from. But, as they have from day one, they will be persnickety and exacting, discovering players that are 'genuinely positive, happy, and outgoing…who understand that you know our job is to bring joy.' Never resting on their laurels, they continue to be on the hunt for the perfect bunch of Bananas.
