The Savannah Bananas experience is a spectacle in yellow, from the pregame festivities to the final out. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

I grew up playing, following and loving baseball. The 15-year-old me could name just about any starting nine across Major League Baseball, especially my hometown New York Mets and Yankees. I was all in.

In many ways, I’m still all in. I still love the game. But as an adult living in Denver — and with a 15-year-old son myself now — the local Colorado Rockies have not given us much to cheer about this season. On pace to be one of the worst — if not the worst — team in modern baseball history (they will shatter the run differential record for true stats geeks, even if they miss out on the all-time loss record by a game or two … ) it’s been a miserable season. But the funny thing is that my son, who has never much been interested in baseball, has become an enormous fan as the Rockies chase history for all the wrong reasons.

As a result, we’ve been to more games at Coors Field this season than any other. While we’re having fun (tickets are cheap!), it’s for the worst possible reason. Losses feel like wins in this upside-down season where we are pulling to be part of history. But somehow, maybe thanks to us, the Rockies are also in the top half of MLB attendance, despite their miserable season. That’s not so much a testament to the team as it is to their fantastic ballpark, where on a beautiful summer night it’s nice to take in the sunsets and watch other teams win. Nonetheless, while there have been surprisingly good crowds at Coors Field this year for such an awful team, it’s generally been a lifeless, joyless experience at the ballpark this season.

Which brings us to the Savannah Bananas.

Much has been written in sports media about the rise of this franchise that has tweaked the game in such a fun fashion that it’s hard to turn away. Are they goofy? They do seem that way. Do they play loose with the traditional rules of baseball? You bet. Do they have the best interest of baseball fans at heart? Absolutely, yes. I reached those conclusions after attending my first Bananas game, the front end of a two-day stand at Coors Field that sold out, more than 50,000 fans each — an attendance record for the team for any game held at an MLB stadium.

Coors Field is home to the Colorado Rockies, a team having a historically bad season even if attendance has been solid. But the Savannah Bananas sold out two games in Denver, drawing more than 50,000 each — a new record for the franchise for a game at an MLB stadium. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

So, what’s going on here?

The Bananas brought joy to the joyless Coors Field and it was infectious. At a Rockies game, the concourses are full of wandering refugees looking for any kind of fulfillment through a beer or a hot dog or any of the ballpark’s specialty dishes. Since fans aren’t missing anything on the field, they fill the concourse. At the Bananas game, where the game itself has a two-hour time limit? It’s not that the concourses were completely empty, but let’s just say you never had to risk bumping into anyone ahead of you. That’s because people were by and large in their seats. The entire time.

The experience underscored some realities that event organizers of all kinds can learn from, and not just those in sports. After my night with the Bananas, here are five things I think they are getting absolutely right:

Know Your Brand, Stay Loyal to It

This is an enterprise that is relentlessly on brand. The whole evening was bathed in yellow and banana-themed imagery, starting with the kid who peeled and ate a banana on the pitcher’s mound before the game to determine if it tasted good, and thus the game would be good. To the baby brought forth in a banana costume and raised in the air “Lion King” style. To the bananas tossed from the crowd during the pregame festivities. To the fantastic banana mascot named Split. To the foam fingers shaped like a banana instead of an outstretched finger. All of it was on point.

A young boy eats a banana to determine if it’s good, and thus whether the game will be good. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)
A baby is brought forth “Lion King” style as part of the pregame antics. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

And of course, this team’s other brand is joy. From my vantage point near the field, the players, the support staff, the auxiliary entertainment (a banana-themed princess anyone?), even the media handlers were all smiles. All night long. Yes, they are paid entertainers, but their fun came off as genuine and it showed in every aspect of their production.

Savannah Bananas players are all smiles, all the time. On the field and off. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

Their other motto: “Fans First.” The team’s holding company is even named that. Every piece of the game itself was designed to give the fans the best experience. The rules of the Banana Ball include no bunting. Because, as is stated in that rule: bunting sucks. Ask any baseball fan and they’d probably agree. This brand is all about stripping away the parts of their product — baseball — that most fans don’t like.

Build and Execute a Run of Show

A Savannah Bananas game is a tightly orchestrated affair, from the scene outside the stadium before the game, to the hours-long fun and antics on the field before the game, to the game itself, which contains a surprising amount of actual baseball interrupted on numerous occasions by tightly choreographed dance sequences by the players or even the umpires. Everyone is in on the act. And everything moves so fast and so tight.

Players are often breaking out into dance during the game. But everything is orchestrated with a purpose. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

Banana Ball has as two-hour time limit for games with the winner being whichever team is in the lead at that point. Was it a surprise that the game ended in the ninth inning at 1:59? Not really. Every minute felt deliberate. Every baby race, every fan contest, every piece of schtick throughout the experience was designed, thought out, and controlled even if the product itself was supposed to look chaotic. It was a brilliant use of time management and it came from what has to be an impeccable run of show. And somehow, the teams scored 31 runs on this night. Can you imagine how long an un-orchestrated MLB game would take with 31 runs?

A two-hour time limit keeps the pace of play quick. But it’s what the team does with those two hours that make the experience enjoyable. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

And when it was over, the banana’s band was on stage outside the ballpark to keep the party going. All events can take a lesson from the thought put into the timing and flow of a Savannah Bananas game.

Incorporate Music Appropriately

If you are wanting quiet, come to a Colorado Rockies game. (Seriously, please come to a Rockies game. Tickets are on me!) But the Savannah Bananas experience was not that. Music is a constant presence during the entire show, often just in the background as play continues.

Even the umpire dances at the Savannah Bananas game. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

But the music never felt out of place. It never felt forced. It only felt additive.

And the music is such an important part of the experience that the home plate umpire is known as the “Dancing Ump.” I even saw one fan whose jersey was signed by the Dancing Ump, emphasizing the importance of music in the event and its starts — and how crucial it is to the brand.

One fan had an autograph on his Bananas jersey: The Dancing Ump. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)
Break the Rules if You Need To

From a baseball perspective, Banana Ball is completely bonkers and yet completely works. There are no walks. On ball four, the batter can start running and keep running until all nine players on the other team touch the ball. If a fan catches a foul ball, the batter is out. And don’t even ask about what happens if the game is tied, but let’s say the pitcher has do a lot of running to get any ball that’s hit. As we’ve established, there’s no bunting, because bunting sucks. And no mound visits, because who other than the ones involved in that visit want to waste that time?

A pitcher on stilts? At the Savannah Bananas game, it doesn’t feel out of place. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

This is not an experience for true baseball enthusiasts. But the Savannah Bananas leaned into the types of angst that drew people away from baseball for years. They juiced out all the interesting stuff, put it in a blender and served. And it’s delicious.

Did they break the rules? Yes, they did. And sometimes you need to break the rules to get people to think different, regardless of what event you’re producing.

Bring Some Joy

Business meetings can feel, well, business-y. Even sports events can feel like more of a business experience, especially at the professional level where millionaires are playing millionaires in stadiums built by billionaires. Or in the case of our Colorado Rockies, events feel lifeless when the on-field product yields no joy — an experience that unfortunately spills into the stands. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t add some youth sports events to this list of experiences that feel all business as well.

The Bananas? All joy, all the time.

Your event doesn’t need to be on hyper joy for two hours straight like a Bananas Game, but can’t you have a little fun in there as well? It’s important to remember that attendees, and people in general, can use a little break here and there. Lean into the joy if you can.

The Savannah Bananas experience is pure joy from the first pitch to the celebration after the final out. (Photo by Jason Gewirtz)

Jason Gewirtz is vice president and managing director of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and the publisher of SportsTravel.