This weekend was full of booming excitement for Washington sports–the Seahawks won convincingly against the Saints, the Mariners solidified their playoff position in their series sweep against the Astros and, of course, who could forget the game of our weekend, the Apple Cup, where the Cougs really emphasized why we need alcohol at Martin Stadium. Any one of these would have been perfect to go to for the weekend, but I said no, I have better plans: Banana Ball.
What is that? If you have been living under a rock for the past ten years, I will enlighten you. Have you ever been to Medieval Times? It is like that, but instead of watching jousting and sword fights between knights as you eat, you watch men in bright yellow baseball jerseys do flips, dance and play baseball. So, really, it is nothing like Medieval Times. Sounds cool, right?
Yeah, no. What Banana Ball lacks in cool-factor, it more than makes up for in pure chaotic fun. From the hours of pre-game activities to its nonstop performances during the main event, Banana Ball is more dinner and a show than a sporting event.
It has a unique set of rules compared to regular baseball, including a strict two-hour time limit, points for winning each inning, outs for fan-caught foul balls and the ability to steal first. If you are curious about the full set of silly quirks, you can read them on the Banana Ball website.
The game I attended on Saturday at T-Mobile Park was a stop on the Banana Ball World Tour. They have sold out every stadium on schedule, and for good reason. What makes this special is its absurdity and novelty: you will not be seeing this anywhere else. The closest comparison I can think of is the Harlem Globetrotters, which is also an out of this world experience.
When I arrived at T-Mobile Park, I walked into the entire stadium, cheering on players as they threw bananas into each other’s pants from the 300-level to the field. Yes, that is a real thing that happened. This certainly set my first impression of what exactly I was getting into, but I somehow joined the collective hivemind and began to cheer for the players like my life depended on it if those bananas made it in their trousers.
That is the number one rule of Banana Ball: you get what you give. Without that, I would not have enjoyed the numerous absurd events I saw that night. The Baby Race, which the announcer called “the slowest race ever,” was a particular highlight, as well as Grandma Gladiators, a tantalizing showdown of two not-so-young ladies fighting with pool noodles. These events happened after each inning, and they never missed a beat.
Also during the in-betweens were a number of surprise appearances, including Pat Monahan, the lead singer of Train, and former Mariner James Paxton, who pitched the most recent no-hitter for Seattle back in 2018.
Monahan put on a mini-concert for the crowd, and, as I realized would be common throughout the game, the Savannah Bananas danced in complete choreography with him. Paxton, on the other hand, came to pitch for the Bananas in one inning, and I will say that was definitely the fastest inning of the entire game. The true power of a professional pitcher cannot be revealed until they go against flipping and dancing batters, is what I always say. The no-hitter in 2018 was cool too, I guess, but this night was obviously the highlight of Paxton’s career.
Every performance needs its heroes and villains, and the protagonist in this show was the Savannah Bananas. They are the face of Banana Ball and hold the most charismatic of stars, including Jackson Olson, Kyle Luigs, Ryan Cox and my personal favorite, Reese Alexiades. Many of these players have their own gimmick that makes them both easy to spot and fun to watch; the most obvious of which is Dakota Albritton, who plays baseball on stilts. He hit the ball and scored a run in the game on Saturday, which I doubt happens very often.
Other standout hits on the Bananas were the dancing coach, Maceo; Princess Potassia, the monarch of Bananaland; and the Man-anas, the dad-bod cheer squad. The umpire, Vincent Chapman, was also a blast to watch as he simultaneously broke it down and called an out.
This does not even begin to scratch the surface of the talented cast of the game, which also included the Bananas’ rivals, the Firefighters. They matched every bit of the main cast’s freak and provided someone to root against–or for, if you were feeling contrarian.
Beyond entertainment, they also took the time to promote their non-profit, Bananas Foster, an organization focused on celebrating foster families and encouraging others to get involved with them. More information on the non-profit can be found on their website. It was a heartfelt moment in the show and long-time foster parents were honored in the process.
After the timer ran out in the ninth inning and the Bananas claimed their victory over the Firefighters, they celebrated with a final dance performance and some words of thanks to the audience. As I always hear in Seattle stadiums, we were attributed as “one of the loudest” crowds they had ever heard.
The worst part of the game was trying to leave, as always, but I was still left with a grin while exiting through the thousands of people going five different directions at once. It is not often I leave a baseball game like that, even the ones where the Mariners win.
This happened because there is something special about Banana Ball; something that brings out the inner child in all of us. While it is certainly geared towards children, I would say that I got more enjoyment out of it as an adult because of how rare this type of silliness and joy is in our lives.
Between work, school and daily responsibilities, we do not have time to just sit down and watch men do flips, twerk and play baseball. Maybe this is a sign that we should.
The next time the Bananas are in town, I would recommend snatching up a ticket as quickly as you can–they sell out fast, to all those adults chasing their dreams of childhood.
