Part circus, part baseball all Bananas

Imitating a scene out of the movie “Flashdance,” members

of the Savannah Bananas dump a bucket of bananas on
pitcher Dakota McFadden during their game March 17
at Constellation Field.

Savannah Bananas relief pitcher Mat Wolf throws the ball
from between his legs during their game March 17 
at Constellation Field.

I went to the circus and a baseball game broke out.

That’s how it seemed March 17 when I covered the Savannah Bananas taking on the Party Animals at Constellation Field – home of the Sugar Land Space Cowboys. The Bananas brought their world tour to Constellation Field for three sold-out nights. If you’re not familiar with the Savannah Bananas, Google them and watch some of the videos. It’s OK, I’ll wait while you do it.

See what I mean – it’s a circus! The Bananas are best described as the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball. Team founder and owner Jesse Cole (the Top Banana) is often compared to showman P.T. Barnum. Never before have so many loose cannons been creatively corralled into a well-timed, high-energy explosion of shtick and shenanigans.

The game itself is played under a two-hour countdown. The entertainment begins long before that and lasts well after the last out. With people in line more than three hours before the game begins, the Banana Band, the Man-anas (yellow-clad boosters), the mascot Split, and some of the players mingle with the fans, pose for photos, sign autographs and engage in impromptu competitions (dance-off anyone?) to fuel the enthusiasm.

A team parade leads to the opening of the gates and the mad dash for the unassigned seats. For the next couple of hours players from both teams sign autographs and pose for selfies while clips of pop tunes blare throughout the stadium set the mood. (I lost count of the number of times I heard parts of “YMCA” and “Baby Shark.”)

To set the scene for you, the Bananas wear yellow and black kilts. Their opponent, the Party Animals, look like they just rolled out of a 1980s skating rink with their mismatched black, pink, and neon green uniforms. (Totally gnarly dude!) During the buildup to game time, there are all kinds of stunts, skill demonstrations, contests, and general monkeying around.

About the only solemn moment is the performance of the National Anthem. After that, the countdown begins. That’s right, the countdown. The game is limited to two hours. And yes, despite all the distraction and interruption, they complete the game in two hours. The rules are different. The team that scores the most points in an inning gets a point for that inning. So, if the first inning ended with three runs for the Bananas and two runs for the Party Animals, the Bananas would get one point. In the ninth inning, scoring returns to normal. (And unlike the Harlem Globetrotters, the Bananas don’t always win.)

There are no walks in Banana Ball. After the fourth ball is called, the batter takes off running. The defense must pass the ball to each player on the field before they can attempt to get the runner out or stop him on base.

Pitchers can pitch whenever they’re ready. Opposing players may or may not be in position. Heck, his own players may not be in position. Action may come to an abrupt stop for some kind of improvisation. The night I was there a wedding was held in the middle of the game.

Essentially, the game is just the framework on which the real entertainment hangs. At the end of the night, no one goes home talking about big plays, stats, and team standings. They go home laughing and joking about the craziness they just witnessed. Of course, they don’t go home right away. The team returns to the concourse to mingle with the fans for a while.

Prior to the game I had the chance to visit with Dakota Albritton who is the most upstanding member of the team. He’s known as Stilts. He plays the game on really tall stilts and he’s kinda hard to miss. He told me he auditioned for the team on a unicycle. They asked him if he had any other talents, and the rest is history.

The team’s mission is to be fan-focused. Everything they do is about the fans and helping them feel good and have a great time. That’s the key to their success. That’s part of their appeal (pun intended). That’s why they’ve been sold out since 2017 and have a waiting list of 500,000.

Soon we will be back to the balls and strikes of professional baseball. Until that happens, it’s been wildly entertaining to have this bunch in town.

Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and the East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.