The sold-out crowd at Busch Stadium was already having a blast, even before Uncle Charlie showed up.
Between the umpire who danced with every strikeout...
the hilarious baby race between innings (dubbed the slowest race in sports)...
the game of father-son catch where two dads raced to each catch their two young sons who — given a head start — were running zigzag patterns across the field like a rogue fan about to be arrested...
and the sing-along music clips that played nonstop throughout the two hour game, Friday night's Banana Ball bombarded attendees with entertainment from every corner.
But when, midway through the game, a very serious strike-out highlight reel began playing on the Jumbotron, fans began looking at one another in disbelief. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome..." the emcee began over the loudspeaker. We didn’t need him to finish. More than 40,000 people lost their minds.
Adam Wainwright, wearing a bright-yellow, #50 Savannah Bananas jersey, strode out to the mound, and the place went absolutely bananas.
Wainwright's lost some velocity, though no one expected him to be in prime pitching shape. We saw the signature curveball. He gave up a hit, but he got the final out to end the top of the inning (in this case it was the third out, but not all Banana Ball innings end in three outs. Look up the zany rules for yourself, it’s hard to explain.)
While the Cardinals were warming up to get shut out by the Diamondbacks in the Arizona desert, their stadium back at home was completely packed with fans who had come to watch a very different kind of game.
Serious baseball fans might scowl at the first base coach who dances the moonwalk to Michael Jackson songs between batters, the centerfielder who does a backflip after catching a fly ball, or the reliever who pitches on stilts. "This is not the way baseball is supposed to be played," they might mutter, shaking their heads.
Exactly. And that’s what makes it so fun.
From the moment the two-hour timer began (ask me why I hate all the hurry-up rules in the MLB but love the two-hour timer in Banana Ball... I can’t really tell you), this event was pure entertainment. There was so much happening all the time that you occasionally forgot there was actually a baseball game underway.
Batters often walked up to the plate with fully choreographed dances alongside a handful of teammates. A marching band paraded up and down the concourse behind us in section 261. Why? Because marching bands are fun. The sing-along songs and occasional dance breaks by the outfielders kept the energy at a 10. When a fan caught a fly ball, the crowd cheered if the ball had been hit by the pink-clad Party Animals (the opponent you know you're supposed to root against) and booed if it was hit by a yellow-jerseyed Savannah Bananas batter. Why? Because in Banana Ball, if a spectator catches a fly ball, the batter is out.
Despite all the unseriousness, these guys are seriously outstanding ball players. Debates about whether the bats are juiced (we definitely had that one on the way home) aside, the pitchers are throwing some filthy stuff, the batters make solid contact, the throws across the field are crisp — and often even involve a little behind-the-back or between-the-legs move — and the sliding/diving/flipping catches in the outfield are phenomenal.
In all, the game was a perfect blend of hilarious, heartwarming, and TikTok-worthy moments.
A seven-year-old with a severe developmental disability started the game: instead of throwing out the first pitch, a banana-costumed mascot brought out a yellow fuzzy briefcase and opened it. The child, who seemed to be built for just this moment, took the banana, peeled it, and ate it. “It’s good!” he shouted into the microphone. And so the game began.
Before taking the field, members of both teams gathered around the pitcher’s mound for a prayer: I pointed this out to my 14-year-old son, who leads his club baseball team and their opponents in a prayer at the mound after their games. “See, it doesn’t have to stop,” I encouraged.
Two hours later, it was over, and a sea of yellow fans made their way towards the exit gates, everyone still buzzing about a night they would long remember... and everyone jamming up cell service trying to post about it on social media.
The mass exit and accompanying traffic brought back a sense of familiarity, and 40,000 fans surely smiled on the way home, talking about how they had never thought they would see Adam Wainwright pitch at Busch Stadium again. Thanks to Banana Ball, they did.
