ACQ2 by Acquired

Building the Savannah Bananas (with Jesse Cole, Founder and Owner)

2025-06-16 · 04:27 UTC ·Ben Gilbert and David Rosenthal ·73 min read

Brief

Jesse Cole traced the Savannah Bananas from a shoestring experiment in promotional minor‑league stunts to a touring, multi‑team live‑entertainment business that rethinks baseball’s product and economics. Cole’s arc began in Gastonia, North Carolina, where as a young general manager he spent a decade testing gimmicks and variety-show concepts to attract fans to college summer league games. After buying the team, he seized an opportunity in Savannah when a professional affiliate left in 2015; the city offered a low‑cost lease ($20,000/yr) and Cole moved his fledgling organization there. Early years were brutal: the launch in late 2015 sold almost no tickets, Cole says he and his then‑fiancée Emily sold their house and lived on an airbed while the team teetered on bankruptcy, at one point being 'over seven figures in debt.'

The turning point was branding and experience. On February 25, 2016 they unveiled the 'Savannah Bananas' and a bold visual identity (Jesse insisted on a “badass banana” logo). Locally the reaction was hostile at first—booing at parades and stiff criticism—but opening nights that leaned into all‑inclusive food, choreographed entertainment (the Banana Nanas senior dance team, mascot theatrics), and memorable viral moments produced immediate product/market fit. Cole emphasizes repeatable mechanics: live promotions that can be rehearsed, captured, and amplified on social media. Merchandise sales exploded, becoming a major revenue driver, and live events created content that accelerated demand. Hosts Ben and David repeatedly noted the scale: hosts cited 1–2 million tickets sold in recent seasons and millions on waitlists; Jesse reported multi‑million follower counts across his teams and tens of millions of social impressions.

Operationally and conceptually Cole pushed farther: he invented Banana Ball, an 11‑rule variant designed to eliminate baseball frictions (long pauses, walks, meaningless late blowouts) and make every inning compelling. Examples: a two‑hour time limit, making a fan‑caught foul an out, penalizing batters for stepping out of the box, turning a base on balls into a live 'sprint' play, per‑inning point scoring with the ninth inning's runs decisive, and the 'golden batter' option. The rules were prototyped with college teams in 2018, field‑tested in 2020, and expanded on tour in 2022 when the organization shifted from a single summer league franchise to a touring model that now plays in major baseball and football stadiums (Clemson drew ~81,000 fans for a Banana Ball game that lasted about 1 hour 43 minutes). Player recruitment shifted accordingly: Cole looks for performers as much as athletes, and anecdotes (a player hitting while on stilts) illustrate how entertainment skills became a roster asset.

Business choices reflect a deliberate tradeoff. Cole rejects traditional ad and sponsorship dollars—announced an 'ad‑free' stadium policy in February 2020—and relies primarily on ticketing and merchandise (he claims ~95% of revenues come from those lines). The organization built its own ticketing and in‑house broadcast (BTV), broadcasting free games on YouTube while striking non‑exclusive deals with partners like ESPN/TNT. This preserves fan access but leaves money on the table and requires heavy reinvestment: Cole disclosed multimillion‑dollar broadcast builds and continued touring costs (200+ traveling staff, significant per‑person travel expense). Key challenges remain: speculative/fake listings on secondary marketplaces, complex venue exclusivity agreements (hence the in‑house ticketing push), and the capital intensity of scaling. Hosts and Cole agreed on the novelty and cultural resonance of the model—Ben and David accept the Globetrotters analogy but Cole insists Banana Ball remains competitive sport, not scripted entertainment. Looking ahead, Cole plans to grow the team ecosystem, control end‑to‑end experiences (inspired by Walt Disney), and prioritize long‑term fan loyalty over extracting immediate profit.

Cleaned source text

title: "Building the Savannah Bananas (with Jesse Cole, Founder and Owner)"

author: "ACQ2 by Acquired"

source_type: podcast

content_hash: 350b2f8b970b61fc41599d63bbf87859c3da4eae61ce3c8347d9e4fc51124727

extraction_method: generic_website

Transcript:

(disclaimer: may contain unintentionally confusing, inaccurate and/or amusing transcription errors)

Ben: All right Acquired listeners, we have a very special treat with you today. We have Jesse Cole, the owner and founder of the Savannah Bananas and the creator of Banana Ball with us here today.

David: I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited for an ACQ2 episode ever.

Ben: This story is the most unlikely success story and the most fun. It is baseball. For anyone who hasn’t paid attention, a lot of you have probably you’re out there thinking, oh, Savannah Bananas, everyone knows about that. A lot of you are also thinking, wait, how have I never heard of this if Ben and David are treating it like the whole world has heard?

There are these weirdly two camps—people that think everyone knows about Banana Ball and people that this is your first experience. It’s baseball, but there’s a guy on stilts. There are choreographed dances. If a fan catches your foul ball, you’re out. If you bunt, you’re ejected. And there are 15 more rules like this.

David: It’s baseball, but fun.

Ben: But fun. The craziest thing though is how much it’s really caught fire, and that’s (I think) one of the things we’re going to talk about today. Last year they sold a million tickets. This year they’ve sold 2 million and they have an additional 3 million person waiting list. Is that right Jesse? Somewhere in that neighborhood.

Jesse: 3.2 now, but yes.

Ben: But who’s counting? The Bananas now have over 15 million followers on social media, including more TikTok followers than every MLB team combined. Tickets are $35 to games-ish. There is unlimited food and drinks, there are no hidden fees. Jesse has “built the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball,” and I think we even referred to that on our IPL Cricket episode, but it’s not, and we’re going to talk today about why it’s not that.

Anyway, we’ve got the man in the yellow tuxedo. Jesse, thank you so much for joining us.

Jesse: Truly fired up to be with you guys. As I shared in our first call, big fan, then a listener of the podcast, learned so much, and shared your podcast with many people on our team. I’m excited to be with you. Turn it around a little bit today.

David: Well we hope we can atone for calling you the Harlem Globetrotters of Baseball.

Ben: Yes.

Jesse: A lot of people call us that. It’s the easiest comparison, so I get it.

Ben: You’re a student of business history. We have so many interesting business angles to analyze the Bananas from, but I want this in narrative form. So take me back, how did Banana Ball start?

Jesse: Oh geez. Well let’s start as a 23-year-old general manager of a team in Gastonia in North Carolina, that had 200 fans coming to their games, $268 in the bank account, and was losing $150,000 a year. That was my first job.

David: And this wasn’t even the minor leagues. This was a college summer league, correct?

Jesse: Yeah, there’s major league, AAA, AA, high A, regular A, rookie ball, independent ball, and then there’s college summer baseball way down there. We were one of the lowest levels of baseball, and the team was there and failing. The only way you get a job as a general manager at 23, it has to be one of the worst teams in the country, and that’s how I got the gig. We had to turn it around.

I started meeting with everyone. I got hung up on numerous phone calls. People weren’t interested in working with us. I realized that we couldn’t be a baseball team. We had to make it more about entertainment, because we were never going to have the best baseball players.

That’s when I just started reading every book about PT Barnum, Walt Disney, Cirque du Soleil, SNL, WWE, I just said, let’s get crazy. We started doing grandma beauty pageants, flatulence fun nights, salute to underwear nights, dig to China night where we actually buried a certificate to China in the infield dirt, and after the game we had everyone dig to China.

David: Like an actual trip to China?

Jesse: Yeah, but it was just a one-way flight to China. No flight back and no accommodations.

David: Oh my god.

Jesse: We fired our mascot for bear growth hormone (BGH) when (remember) HGH was really big, so we did that. We offered George Bush after his term was over an internship with us. We were going to give him a host family, a stipend. So we just started doing everything to create attention.

David: In this era, you were doing crazier but typical minor league baseball stuff. You were still just playing baseball but doing stunts, right?

Jesse: It was traditional baseball which had to get people excited about it. Really what people don’t realize, it was 10 years there of experimenting with the pregnant nights and you name it. We did everything.

That’s when people started to say, I’m coming to the show. I’m coming to have fun. That was the first time we had players dance. I actually had players learn how to dance during the game. So we started really experimenting for 10 years there with very little notice.

Now, we climbed out to be fourth in the country in attendance. We started selling out games, but it was in a little tiny suburb of Charlotte. I think we had one media story in my 10 years. That was it. But the team was profitable, it was successful, it was doing very well.

Ben: What was the team called?

Jesse: The Gastonia Grizzlies. Now they no longer exist. I guess they didn’t do as well as I hoped, but we did a good job with them. They ended up getting sold, and now they got a professional team in Gastonia. It actually helped steer the way to building a whole new stadium in professional baseball, but the actual college summer team no longer exists.

Ben: And you had a background as a player. You were a pitcher?

Jesse: Yeah, I played. I played division one college ball. I was getting seen by professional scouts. I thought that was my dream and that’s where I was going to go. Before I went to Gastonia, I went into coaching. You don’t play, you go coach. But I realized there I was coaching in the Cape Cod League, which you guys may know is probably one of the best—

David: That’s kind of the premier college summer league, right?

Jesse: Correct. I was sitting there literally next to the best players in the world in the dugout with the best seat in the house, and I was bored out of my mind. There’s a difference when you’re playing the game versus when you’re watching the game. I was like, I know we’re going to hit and run here. This hitter’s coming up. We’re going to bring in this guy. I’m still bored. I can’t imagine the fans that don’t love baseball, how they’re feeling.

That was the little start to all of that. I studied Walt Disney probably more than anyone. He was at Griffith Park watching his two daughters. Saturday was daddy day with Walt and he went to the carousel at Griffith Park. He said, man, I wish there was a place adults and kids could have fun together.

That was where the idea of Disneyland started. I remember vividly being in that dugout and just saying, I wish the game was fun for everyone and not just people who were playing the game. And that’s where it started. Gastonia was 10 years of experimenting before the colossal failure, and the beginning of the Savannah Bananas.

Ben: Have you always had this personality type? Most people would observe, this isn’t that fun but hey, this is the industry I’m in, this is the game I’m in, this is the sport. Most people would never plant a ticket in the infield and say, you know? Let’s do a dig to China.

Jesse: I wanted to be successful, I wanted to figure out how to make it work. I wanted to put my name on something and create something special.

I started in 2007–2008. That was the peak of Major League Baseball. Eighty million fans were going to baseball, like Major League Baseball games. Now, it’s around 70 million, I think, but it was dominating. I still saw something because I played the game, and I was watching. It was just wasn’t that exciting. The games got to be over three hours long. That’s a long game.

I was sitting there. I was like, God, I can’t wait till this game’s over, and I’m coaching the team. If you’re coaching the team and on the dugout, you can’t wait till the game’s over, there’s got to be a fundamental problem. And that was the start of let’s make something fun, let’s try something, let’s experiment.

Ben: And Gastonia, you’re employed.

Jesse: I didn’t get paid the first few months, yes. But I eventually got paid, yes.

Ben: Somebody else owned the team, and they employed you as the GM?

Jesse: I was employed as the GM. I became the managing partner, got a piece of ownership, and then ended up buying that team after 10 years. But yes, it was 10 years of a slow build, from losing hundreds of thousand dollars to making a little bit of money.

Ben: How does it work to buy that team? Was that a risk for you financially?

Jesse: You know what’s so funny? The team was worth probably nothing when I started, which was crazy. The owner who I’m so close with, actually ended up marrying my wife and I at our field in Gastonia. That’s how full circle it is.

But I joke because I had to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for this team that was worth nothing when we started. But because we made it to one of the high, I was like, I hurt myself colossally there. Now, we made a good deal, owner financing. He helped me get started and I took it over. I think 2014 is when I bought that.

Ben: How does that lead to the Savannah Bananas?

Jesse: Long story short, the last game of 2014 (August 4th, 2014), I had met my—she was my girlfriend at the time—Director of Fun, Emily McDonald. Now, how did I meet her? I was hosting a seminar our first year and she was working for Cal Ripken in Ripken Baseball, working for the Augusta Greenjackets. She was in minor league baseball and I hosted a seminar.

This is how crazy, I’m 24 years old and I’m like, I’m going to host a seminar. I only hosted it because I wanted to learn. I was like, can I get everyone here from minor league baseball, pay nothing, just come, we’ll do a seminar. Luckily, I got some people to come, and I’m talking about our grandma beauty pageants.

Her boss left the conference, called her and said, I just met the guy you’re going to marry. Emily’s like, what are you talking about Amy? She’s like, no. He’s got the energy, the enthusiasm, the passion. He’s all in it like you are. Just reach out to him, ask some business questions, and maybe you guys can connect.

She reached out, I told her about our grandma beauty pageants and our craziness, and we just stayed in touch. Then we met again at a minor league promo seminar, hit it off. She came to work for us. We didn’t tell anybody. Literally, she wanted to build herself in the industry. We had to keep it secret.

For a whole year, she’s literally our Director of Fun. We are the most professional relationship, no anything. She’s working. She joins every board like the YMCA, the United Way. She’s a part of everything in the community, builds herself up. Then after a year, we tell people.

I think a year later on the last game of the year, I met her at our stadium in Gastonia, the first time I met her in person in front of a sold out crowd. I stopped the game in the middle of the sixth inning and I’m thanking all of our players, all of our cast, all of our staff. I say last but not least.

I went into her and I told, we met here at this field. This is the first time in front of my family, your family, our entire baseball family. Will you make me the luckiest guy in the world? Dropped down to a knee, had the ring inside of baseball, had fireworks go off in the middle of the game. just to delay the game completely, 20 minutes.

This is our moment. The umpires are like, are we going to play soon? I’m like, just let us own this moment. Thank goodness, she said yes. That night, she was just so excited. I went to sleep after the game. She planned a trip to Savannah. She’s like, you did this epic proposal. I want to plan a weekend for us to have fun.

So we went down to Savannah, and we got to check out the minor league stadium. We never been there. She’s like, yeah—

David: Just like, oh, it’s a beautiful place. Beautiful place to go.

Jesse: A weekend together. That was it. Nothing. But I was like, Em, we got to check out this stadium. She’s like, all right.

We went to the minor league stadium and I’ll never forget. We walk in. You could feel the history. It was 1926 ballpark. Babe Ruth played there, Hank Aaron played there, Jackie Robinson played there. It was amazing. We walk in, it’s a beautiful night, 80 degrees, and there’s nobody there. I mean 200 people max.

You can almost picture a tumbleweed just going through the grandstand, like what is going on? I immediately called the commissioner of our league and I said, if this minor league team, New York Mets affiliate ever leaves, we’re calling this market. He is like, sure, Jesse. Whatever you say. It’s a minor league market.

A month later they say, we want a brand new stadium, $38 million, or we’re leaving. The city’s like, we’re not building you a $38 million stadium. They’re like, peace out. We’re gone. I’m like—

Ben: Where’d they go to?

Jesse: Columbia, South Carolina. They left, and we then convinced the city of Savannah to give a lease to us to start a college summer team. They had minor league baseball for 90 years, and we convinced them to let us have a college summer team at this old, majestic stadium. That’s when it got really, really hard, but that’s how it started.

Ben: I was reading, that’s a $20,000 per year lease that you signed. Is that right?

Jesse: Yes, and that was just what we had in Gastonia. Again, I’ve learned, if you have a good precedent, share it. If you have a very good precedent, share it. I was $20,000 a year. This is what we pay. We’re just a small little college summer team, please help us. They worked with us and shared it. So they said yes and we convinced them, but that’s when it got really hard.

David: Emily said yes. They said yes.

Jesse: Everybody’s saying yes at this point except for the fans. The fans all said no immediately.

David: I got to stop you for one minute, actually. I can’t remember we talked about this before. You’re just bringing back so many memories of my childhood.

My family’s in the baseball business. My dad was one of the founders of the Atlantic League, which is one of the big independent minor leagues. My whole childhood was going around with my dad to these cities that either had minor league baseball teams in the past, the team had left, or great cities where they were in the territory of a major league team so couldn’t have a minor league team. We would go pitch these municipalities exactly like you were doing.

Jesse: Yeah, we pitched them, they said yes. Then we showed up and the former team cut the phone lines, they cut the Internet lines, they took everything out of the ballpark. There was nothing left.

We walk in, it’s myself, my wife. I’m 31 at the time, Emily’s 28. Our team president is 24 years old, and we have three 22-year-olds straight out of college who are interns. This is our crew. We’re like, we’re going to take this on. We have this big vision. I was like, if we could start from scratch, if we could make the team any way we want to, all inclusive tickets, nonstop entertainment, we were ready.

Then we proceeded to sell two tickets in the first three months. A guy gave us a donation. It was like, here you go. We had a launch event where we gave out free food, free alcohol. We were going onto doors and knocking, literally knocking at restaurants, knocking at shops. They were like, we’re not interested. About 100 people showed up for a free event and the conference center felt so bad they didn’t even charge us for all the food and all the alcohol. It was so bad, guys, on how we started.

David: And the fans were pissed that they’d lost their official minor league team. They’re like, oh this is some college thing coming in.