Going bananas: Why Savannah Bananas tickets cost more than a Dodgers-Yankees rematch

Los Angeles Times

2 days ago

In a region where baseball is king, the long-awaited rematch of last year's World Series between the Dodgers and Yankees is unfolding. Ohtani. Judge. Two of the game's best, facing off once more.
But just down the 5 Freeway in Anaheim, the home of Disney, the hottest ticket in baseball this weekend belongs to a stilted pitcher, juggling infielders and a yellow-suited, top hat-wearing carnival barker.
For back-to-back nights, more than 45,000 fans packed the Big A to see the Savannah Bananas — a team born from a small-time collegiate summer team that became a tour de force that has forever changed baseball. It was one stop during the Bananas' most audacious barnstorming effort since their baseball traveling show hit the road just a few years ago.
These tickets were only available through a lottery — reserved months in advance. And when they went on sale, all were gone in an instant. The only way in was through the resale market, where just hours before first pitch on Friday, the lowest price (fees and taxes included) for a pair of tickets on StubHub was $209.52.
Meanwhile, two lowest price StuHub tickets for the Dodgers versus Yankees game were available for $171.72.
All for the sake of 'Banana Ball.'
This baseball game is a ballyhoo. One rooted in the thrills, energy and pageantry of early 20th-century carnivals, but with a 21st-century twist — the atmosphere of a TikTok reel brought to life. It's the showmanship of Ringling Brothers Circus combined with the athletic flair of the Harlem Globetrotters.
But above all, it's a brand built on Walt Disney's blueprint— not just to entertain, but to make the audience feel.
'When you look at all the touch points — the joy, the fun, the dancing, the celebrating — and think about all the different stages, just like Walt, we think about all the stages: from the parking lot to the plaza, to the upper deck, to the dugouts,' said Bananas owner Jesse Cole, the man in the top hat. 'How do we make someone feel something?'
Instead of lounging in a cushy, air-conditioned owner's suite, Cole is in the dugout hours before showtime — a Disney-like archetype, his energy as vibrant as his layered, all-yellow suit, braving the afternoon heat.
'Nonstop,' Cole said, describing Banana Ball in a nutshell. Refusing to sit, not wanting to lose an ounce of edge, he added, 'It's all about energy. We want to give people energy, delivering it every second, from the moment we open the gates at two o'clock until the last fan leaves at 11.'
While gates opened at 2 p.m., fans began arriving as early as 11 a.m. — clamoring for a shot at Banana-themed merchandise, many leaving the team tents with bags in both hands. In the parking lot, two young boys passed the time playing catch, gloves in hand.
As the afternoon wore on and the temperature climbed to 91 degrees, crowds trudged through the heat, some seeking refuge beneath the oversized Angels helmets at the stadium entrance, all for a chance to meet their favorite Banana Ballers. At the pregame plaza party, fans collected autographs, posed for photos and presented handmade gifts to players.
When the gates opened, the LaCaze family pointed out their 9-year-old daughter's favorite player, David 'DR' Meadows. Decked out in her signed Meadows jersey, Carrigan LaCaze ran into his arms, with glove and oversized baseball clutched tightly and began speaking with him as if they were old friends.
'I ran to DR, and we started hugging and just started talking for a while because I missed him,' Carrigan LaCaze said. 'Tomorrow is actually one year on the dot since I met him.'
A Christmas road trip planned around the holidays, the family of four traveled across three states from their home in Alexandria, La., to Anaheim for two reasons: to visit Disneyland and see the Bananas. It was their second game — the family first saw the Bananas in the club's hometown of Savannah, Ga., when Carrigan, who is battling cystic fibrosis, was granted a Make-A-Wish experience so meaningful it was a no-brainer to relive it.
'It's great,' her father, Pierre LaCaze, said of the player interactions. 'We've gotten to keep track with some of them during the course of the year. We come back, we see them again. You know they're truly about the fans.'
The Bananas don't sell tickets. They sell connections, moments and memories.
For Cole, meetings are a constant brainstorming session on how to keep fans engaged and interacting. That's how he measures success. He says when the focus shifts to transactions, the game begins to lose its meaning.
'Our success is not judged by revenue,' Cole said. 'It's not judged by sales. It's judged by the moments we create.'
But the numbers don't lie.
The last time the Bananas came to Southern California, they played in front of 5,000 fans at LoanMart Field in Rancho Cucamonga in 2023 — a far cry from now selling out 18 major league ballparks and three football stadiums with capacities over 70,000.
Attendance has soared year after year. Last season, the Bananas drew one million fans. This year, that number is expected to double, with more than three million people on the waitlist for their ticket lottery. Every game since February has sold out and every date in June and July is as well.
Michael and Melinda Schulteis, a husband and wife from Mission Viejo, were there the last time the Bananas came to town. When they heard the team was returning, they knew they couldn't miss it.
'The intimate atmosphere at the last event was great,' Melinda Schulteis said. 'But I'm curious, because they do such a good job putting on events, what touches are they going to add to still keep it close and intimate and give us another great experience?'
As the Bananas' success and reach have grown, spilling out from cozy minor league parks into stadiums not built for intimacy, the games still feel like family gatherings. Whether serenading players with stadium anthems like Bon Jovi's 'Livin' on a Prayer' or the waving of phone lights to Coldplay's 'Yellow,' the crowd moves in sync, no matter the tune.
While they're a privately owned team and don't disclose revenue figures, they've confirmed generating millions. Much like their box office appeal, their social media reach extends into the millions as well.
Their antics — choreographed dances, lip-synced walk-ups, backflip outfield catches — have attracted nearly 10 million followers on TikTok, almost double the combined total of the Dodgers and Angels. That viral mastery, and the parasocial bonds it fosters, is part of what makes every game feel tight-knit.
With his glove by his side, hoping to catch a foul ball for an out — one of the many offbeat rules of Banana Ball — Michael Schulties was disappointed he missed his favorite player, RobertAnthony Cruz, whom he first discovered on social media through his baseball coaching channel, better known as 'Coach RAC.'
Cruz, who drew the longest meet-and-greet line, is a former minor leaguer in the Nationals' farm system and a local — born just an hour away in Fontana. The game was a homecoming for Cruz, who joined the Bananas in 2023.
With more than 70 family members and friends in attendance — and even more social media direct messages asking for tickets — playing in big league stadiums has become a dream come true, especially for a former minor leaguer whose baseball ambitions nearly died when he never got the call to the show.
Behind all the gimmicks, wackiness and absurdity, the roster is still filled with ballplayers — many of them with unrealized MLB dreams — now finding a second life through Banana Ball. And for Cruz, it's the happiest he's ever been in the sport.
'I never would have imagined playing in this capacity,' Cruz said. 'Banana Ball didn't even exist when I was pursuing my dream of professional baseball. To be here, to see a sold-out crowd at a stadium that I went to growing up all the time, it's very special.'
As the team travels the nation, sold-out crowds and newfound stardom have become the norm for Cruz.
'I'm not surprised by anything anymore,' Cruz said. 'If you told me that we're playing on the moon next year, I'd be like, 'All right, cool. Let me know when and where, and I'll be there' … I wouldn't be surprised if this thing continues to grow at an unprecedented rate.'
Despite their growing success, the Bananas' brand of baseball remains polarizing — an easy target for detractors of zaniness, gatekeepers of fun and opponents of pizzazz who either don't understand it or refuse to see its appeal.
'Anybody that criticizes this, we're not for them,' Cole said. 'There's tradition in baseball, perfect. They've got Major League Baseball. … For people that want to come out and have fun, not take themselves too seriously and see something they've never seen before — and hopefully see the greatest show in sports — we built something for you.'
The formula works. And again, the numbers don't lie.
Yes, the Savannah Bananas' brand of baseball is far too outlandish ever to be compared to the major leagues — from flaming baseballs, rump-shaking umps and dress rehearsals. That's the point. It all feels like something conjured from the wildest dreams of the late Bill Veeck's imagination found a home, in a good way.
With many of the Banana Ball's 11 rules — like an automatic strike when hitters step out of the box or ejecting bunting hitters because bunting 'sucks' — are grounded in some sports-based logic, the innovations remain sacrilegious to baseball purists.
But for a fleeting moment in December, Major League Baseball and Banana Ball were almost linked.
In Banana Ball, the Golden Batter rule allows teams, once per game, to send their best hitter to the plate regardless of where they fall in the batting order.
MLB commissioner Rob Manfred caused a stir when he floated a potential seismic rule by floating, making an offhand comment about the golden batter rule. Manfred later clarified it was merely 'a very preliminary conversation' among members of the league's competition committee and had not been formally discussed by the full ownership group.
A far-fetched idea, but Manfred has ushered in sweeping changes, from the widely praised pitch clock to the more contentious extra-inning 'ghost runner.'
'Anything that's best for the fans, I'm all in,' Cole said of its potential. 'I know Major League Baseball won't do it because of traditions, but ... we've had a lot of fun doing it.'
But MLB would be behind the Bananas, who already introduced their version of the rule last season with a typical flair and showmanship. Their spin on it is a batter summoned from the dugout wearing a James Brown-esque cape and a gleaming golden helmet — an honor that went to Joe Lytle, who came to bat in the top of the ninth for the Bananas' Anaheim opponent, the Firefighters.
Ultimately, in a game where the score isn't the end-all, be-all — but the fun is — the Bananas beat the Firefighters 5–2.
Like any other Bananas game, the festivities took center stage. It began with the 'First Peel,' a signature ceremony in which a young fan bites into a banana to declare whether it's good or bad — setting the tone for the night.
Heisman Trophy winner and USC legend Matt Leinart threw out the ceremonial first spiral (because, of course, he did). And in true fashion, Angels World Series MVP Troy Glaus made a surprise cameo as a pinch hitter.
But what was more important was the trip to Anaheim, a fitting one for Cole and Co.
The team that opened its season lip-syncing 'Be Our Guest' from the Disney classic 'Beauty and the Beast' — and its owner, cut from the same theatrical cloth as Disney — were celebrated a visit to the Happiest Place on Earth — Disneyland.
Greeted by fans in yellow gear, Cole's creation — the Bananas — marched in step down Main Street U.S.A., alongside Walt's own — Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Donald Duck.
'When I walked underneath the castle and over the bridge and in front of thousands of people, they were all there for us,' Cole said. 'Then I look and see Walt's statue, holding the hand of Mickey, and I see that and I'm like, 'This is special.''
It was a full-circle moment for Cole, who became 'immersed in the magic' after his first trip to Disney World as a kid — and who now says, 'In a perfect world, I'd play catch with Walt on Main Street.' Serendipity.
'For me, that was an emotional moment — to know that we have worked so hard to create something that means something to people, that they come from all over the country just for a chance to see us,' Cole added.