Savannah Bananas bring oddball baseball to the Superdome | Entertainment/Life

The Savannah Bananas, an eccentric, entertainment-forward baseball team, owned the Superdome on Saturday night. There hadn’t been so much singing and dancing in the joint since Taylor Swift. And even the gifted Miss Swift probably couldn’t catch a long fly ball while simultaneously executing a flawless backflip the way Bananas center fielder Dr. Meadows did.

The Savannah Bananas are a phenom. For the past few years, they have barnstormed around the country presenting their take on the great American pastime to astonishingly large audiences of adoring fans. The Savannah Bananas are literally in a league of their own, which includes a handful of other teams to provide the Bananas with competition. On Saturday, the Bananas played the Party Animals.

It was the first time Banana Ball, as it’s known, appeared in New Orleans, but the attraction’s reputation preceded it. Bananas founder Jesse Cole, immediately recognizable in his screaming yellow suit and bowler hat, announced on Saturday that Banana Ball had attracted sellout crowds of 70,000 on both Saturday and Sunday, setting a Superdome record for attendance at sporting events on consecutive days.

At its essence, Banana Ball seems to be inspired by the charmingly silly hijinks that take place between innings of minor league ballgames. Saturday’s side amusements included a ridiculous gender reveal, a genuine marriage proposal, a blindfolded banana hunt, a strange ancient ceremony featuring an infant from the audience swaddled in — what else — a banana costume, and a game in which brawny young men from the audience competed to pick up young women along the foul lines and carry them swiftly to home plate.

Best of all of Saturday’s side shows was a brief football game between the Bananas and the Party Animals, in which New Orleans Saints quarterback Tyler Shough put in a guest appearance, tossing a touchdown pass for the Bananas. No doubt portending many touchdowns to come.

Banana Ball touches on other aspects of Americana besides baseball, including pro wrestling. Players adopt personas, such as a macho he-man, caped superhero, fur coat and sunglass-wearing pretty boy, cowboy, leprechaun, rapper, etc. Everyone in Banana Ball must appear at least as stylish as Reggie Jackson. That seems to be the rule, anyway.

The traveling show aspect of Banana Ball has a very old-timey vibe. One of the game’s emcees, whose stage name is The Young Professor, said that the camaraderie is like being back in college, only mobile, “like being on the road with all your friends.” The Professor, who said his real name “wasn’t important,” said that before the Bananas, he’d had some experience announcing pro wrestling.

When he first became part of the Banana Ball crew, he still had a day job as a high school social studies teacher. “I was a teacher running away with the circus on the weekends,” he said, “and being back in the classroom Monday morning.” Now he’s part of the circus full time.

Trick plays of all sorts are part of the Banana Ball picture, so naturally, the Harlem Globetrotters comedic basketball team comes to mind. Yet Saturday’s game in the Dome didn’t seem to be all sleight of hand.

In the midst of all the absurdity, sometimes a baseball game broke out. Fast balls popped into leather, line drives skipped across turf, foul balls rocketed into the stands. Home runs arched beneath the Superdome ceiling, and young men stretched for grounders that skittered past. But it’s a different sort of baseball.

“It’s kind of unlike any baseball game you’re going to see,” said Kaylee Stringer, an audience member and former softball player from Foxworth, Mississippi, “because of all the extra rules.” Stringer was referring to rules allowing batters to steal first on a wild pitch, or for a fan in the stands to put a batter out by cleanly catching a foul ball, and an especially peculiar rule that requires defensive teams to play hot potato with the ball whenever a batter walks.

Stringer, who hadn’t seen the Bananas before, said she thought the play was “pretty good.” She was especially impressed with the stilt-walking pitcher. “I could never do that,” she said. Best of all, Stringer said she was happy that Banana Ball was using some women players.

Savannah Bananas player No. 3, Louisiana native Bryce Grizzaffi, made a dramatic entrance Saturday by ceremoniously striding through the crowd to the plate like a prize fighter entering the ring, to the familiar strains of “Stand Up and Get Crunk” by the Ying Yang Twins. He promptly pounded a screamer into center field and slid safely into second, belly first, Pete Rose style.

“You got to play gritty like the GOAT himself Pete Rose,” a grinning Grizzaffi said after the game. Asked what it was like to play before such an enormous hometown crowd, he said, it felt “absolutely amazing.”

“It’s an absolute blessing to be here,” he continued. “I couldn’t put into words how excited I am.”

All of the Banana Ball players must feel pretty much the same way. They’re all talented college and minor-league athletes. And that might have been accomplishment enough. But now they’re rock stars, selling out the Dome like the Rolling Stones.

For most of the world, the whole Banana Ball experience may seem a touch crazy. But New Orleanians probably feel differently. Sure there’s some nuttiness, but there’s also something about it that’s familiar. It’s as if somehow baseball had magically blended with Mardi Gras. There’s costuming, feathers, glitter, and on Saturday, even a brass band and mini parade. When the Bananas dance — which they do a lot — they’re just like the 610 Stompers. Only maybe a hair more graceful.

True, Banana Ball originated in Georgia, but in spirit, they are New Orleans’ baseball home team for sure. And on Saturday, the home team won.