BY HALLIE MILSTEIN AND MARY ALICE RUSSELL
PHOTOGRAPHS BY PETER FRANK EDWARDS
(From top) Huddles might end with a dance or cheer. On-field antics keep fans entertained. The players may act silly, but they’re the real deal. Look for a baby in costume at each game.
AND THE SAVANNAH BANANAS are out for the inning. Rushing back to the dugout, one yellow-clad player springs into a backflip, landing effortlessly on his feet, and accepts a pat on the back from his 10-foot-tall teammate (elevated by a pair of stilts). This isn’t a typical baseball game.
Played in Georgia’s Grayson Stadium, Banana Ball is everything you know about the sport turned on its head. Among the highlights are a two-hour time limit, a ban on bunting, and a whole lot of shenanigans. “Baseball purists hate these games because they are totally different,” notes Savanah Alaniz, who manages the Bananas’ ever-growing online fan base.
The team, a combination of recently graduated college athletes and former Minor and Major League Baseball (MLB) players, walk on stilts, dance, and balance bats on their noses. They are often compared to the Harlem Globetrotters, but unlike the basketball stars (who are practically guaranteed to win), here, the stunts end where the real match begins. Spectacles abound, but so does a good, fair competition. Unfortunately, today the Bananas find themselves down by a run in the 2nd inning against their frequent rivals, the Party Animals.
The crowd, an enthusiastic sea of yellow, is far from defeated thanks to the Banana Nanas (an ensemble of line dancing women, all 65 years and older, with routines set to the latest radio hits) and the Man-Nanas (a hilarious group who rile up attendees with “dad bod cheerleading” and free T-shirts).
Between home plate and first base, 82-year-old superfan Wally Murphy watches from his favorite seat in the house. Perched in that same spot, he has been to nearly every home game since 2016 when he team was part of a summer league for college athletes. “The owners and staff work hard to live up to their ‘fans first’ motto,” he says. In addition to nonstop entertainment, concessions are included with the ticket price in this ad-free ballpark.
(From top) Maceo Harrison is the breakdancing first base coach. Fans come decked out in signature gear. Get there early for a pregame parade outside the stadium.
In downtown Savannah, Banana flags hang in the souvenir stores alongside Tybee Island key chains. Bolstered by social media fame, the team now tours throughout the country, selling out everywhere they go. Soon, they hope to bring their fast-paced and playful take on the sport to major league stadiums—and then showcase it worldwide. “Down the road, I see us creating a Banana Ball league where we have multiple teams and cities all doing what we are doing for their own communities,” says Eric Byrnes, former Bananas head coach and MLB player. No matter how far the team goes, they won’t forget their Savannah roots: Their uniforms are decorated with locals’ signatures.
Kids also have time to shine on multiple occasions, from the Banana Baby, who is given a Lion King-style introduction to the crowd while wearing a banana costume, to the young fan who gets to take a ceremonial bite of the fruit and declare whether it’s good or rotten—considered an omen for the outcome of the game.
For the first time ever, the chosen happy-go-lucky little girl proclaims the fruit rotten. Uh-oh, bad news for the Bananas. Her prediction almost comes true, but with just three minutes left on the clock, they close the 9th inning on top with a heroic outfield catch. The team’s victory lap begins with a leapfrog chain on the pitcher’s mound and continues off the field to the front of the stadium, with fans hot on their trail. A dance party ensues, and the evening ends with a song: Ben E. King’s “Stand by Me,” with the players and spectators wrapped arm in arm.
