Jesse Cole in his signature yellow derby and tuxedo, showman to the max.
Jesse Cole is a genius... or else a damn good dramaturg.
Either way, he took baseball—a traditional sport that has become notorious for dull action and interminable overtimes, rewrote the rules, and introduced the nation and the world to “Banana Ball.” This April, the Savannah Bananas sold out an 81,000-seat stadium in four hours. Tickets go by lottery now, because they are among the hardest tickets to get in all sports.
This is going to be a blog about theatre, so bear with me.
Cole started his meteoric career in the fall of 2015, when he moved to Savannah to become the general manager of a college summer team. Cole had the idea to make baseball fun and to bring back the fans... but neither of those things happened. By January 2016, just before their first game, the team’s bank account was overdrawn, and Jesse and Emily Cole had to sell their home to keep their dream afloat.
Either way, he took baseball—a traditional sport that has become notorious for dull action and interminable overtimes, rewrote the rules, and introduced the nation and the world to “Banana Ball.” This April, the Savannah Bananas sold out an 81,000-seat stadium in four hours. Tickets go by lottery now, because they are among the hardest tickets to get in all sports.
This is going to be a blog about theatre, so bear with me.
Cole started his meteoric career in the fall of 2015, when he moved to Savannah to become the general manager of a college summer team. Cole had the idea to make baseball fun and to bring back the fans... but neither of those things happened. By January 2016, just before their first game, the team’s bank account was overdrawn, and Jesse and Emily Cole had to sell their home to keep their dream afloat.
But then, one month later, Cole announced the name of the team, and the rest is history. The Savannah Bananas have sold out every single game since their first season, playing in NFL and MLB stadiums across the country.
How did this happen?
Like I said, natural genius or really excellent dramaturgy. (Dramaturgy is the theory and practice of dramatic composition.) It’s pretty simple, actually. Cole looked at what wasn’t working and then he looked at what would.
What do the people want? They want to be entertained. They want to be surprised, delighted. They want to see something larger than life. Like a ballplayer on stilts. Like a backflip catch. They want suspense and momentum right up to the last second.
What don’t they want? To be bored or annoyed. Like with a shut-out game, where everyone knows who is going to win before the game is half over. They don’t like "walking the ball," when the pitcher throws four balls and the batter is granted a leisurely, no-risk saunter to first base. Oh, and bunting… *yawn* And, then, of course, there is that time thing. In 1981, there was actually a professional baseball game that ran for 33-innings. Sprawling and crawling for more than eight hours, it lasted three days. Yeah, that happened.
How did this happen?
Like I said, natural genius or really excellent dramaturgy. (Dramaturgy is the theory and practice of dramatic composition.) It’s pretty simple, actually. Cole looked at what wasn’t working and then he looked at what would.
What do the people want? They want to be entertained. They want to be surprised, delighted. They want to see something larger than life. Like a ballplayer on stilts. Like a backflip catch. They want suspense and momentum right up to the last second.
What don’t they want? To be bored or annoyed. Like with a shut-out game, where everyone knows who is going to win before the game is half over. They don’t like "walking the ball," when the pitcher throws four balls and the batter is granted a leisurely, no-risk saunter to first base. Oh, and bunting… *yawn* And, then, of course, there is that time thing. In 1981, there was actually a professional baseball game that ran for 33-innings. Sprawling and crawling for more than eight hours, it lasted three days. Yeah, that happened.
The Bananas in action.
So, Banana Ball games have a two-hour time limit. No new innings allowed after 120 minutes. You can actually make plans for your life after the game.
How did Cole manage that? Well, games are won by points, instead of runs. The team that scores the most runs in an inning gets one point, except in the final inning when every run counts as one point.
Did you hear that? In the final inning, every run counts as a point. That means that no matter how uneven the score, the losing team can always make a comeback in the last inning. Edge-of-your-seat stuff, built-in. Genius. Also a much-needed message for our time: It's never too late.
No bunting allowed. And walking the ball has been replaced by the “ball-four sprints.” What’s that, you ask? After ball four, the batter starts to run and they cannot be tagged out until all four infielders and all three outfielders have touched the ball. Instead of the leisurely stroll, it's super-fast action involving the entire team with even a possibility of a home run! Suspense and momentum!
How did Cole manage that? Well, games are won by points, instead of runs. The team that scores the most runs in an inning gets one point, except in the final inning when every run counts as one point.
Did you hear that? In the final inning, every run counts as a point. That means that no matter how uneven the score, the losing team can always make a comeback in the last inning. Edge-of-your-seat stuff, built-in. Genius. Also a much-needed message for our time: It's never too late.
No bunting allowed. And walking the ball has been replaced by the “ball-four sprints.” What’s that, you ask? After ball four, the batter starts to run and they cannot be tagged out until all four infielders and all three outfielders have touched the ball. Instead of the leisurely stroll, it's super-fast action involving the entire team with even a possibility of a home run! Suspense and momentum!
Dakota "Stilts" Albritton who plays the game on stilts.
Cole has figured out that nothing energizes a crowd like breaking the fourth wall. Banana Ball allows for game-changing participation. If a fan catches a foul ball, it’s an automatic out. And if the umpire makes an unpopular call? Well, the fans have the opportunity, once a game, to challenge that call! Way more exciting than yelling “Throw the bum out!” Lived lessons in democracy. And fans love the “Golden Batter Rule.” Once in every game, a team may send any hitter in the lineup to bat in any spot. So when the game is on the line, the fan favorite has a shot at saving the day. Super-hero stuff!
Food? Unbelievably, the $20 ticket price includes all you can eat. With a pack of kids, it’s almost like getting in for free. Cole has done the math. There is that two-hour time limit, and what he might lose in individual sales, he more than makes up for with sell-out volumes. Families can budget both their time and their money in advance. And the free food makes for enhanced merch sales. Win-win.
Everything in Banana Ball can be a game or a show. For example... what if the the pitcher and batter play Rock-Paper-Scissors before each pitch? If the pitcher wins, the batter has to bat from the opposite side of home plate, but if the batter wins, the pitcher has to announce what kind of pitch he's going to throw. Genius.
Food? Unbelievably, the $20 ticket price includes all you can eat. With a pack of kids, it’s almost like getting in for free. Cole has done the math. There is that two-hour time limit, and what he might lose in individual sales, he more than makes up for with sell-out volumes. Families can budget both their time and their money in advance. And the free food makes for enhanced merch sales. Win-win.
Everything in Banana Ball can be a game or a show. For example... what if the the pitcher and batter play Rock-Paper-Scissors before each pitch? If the pitcher wins, the batter has to bat from the opposite side of home plate, but if the batter wins, the pitcher has to announce what kind of pitch he's going to throw. Genius.
The Banana Nanas.
The Savannah Banana walk-ups are legendary, often starting in the stands and involving lip-syncing and dance choreography. The fans never know when the team is going to bust a move in the middle of the game. And the home run celebrations are wild.
But wait, wait… There’s more. The cheerleaders!
There are the "Savannah Banana Nanas," composed of women over sixty-five doing hip-hop dances, and the "Man-Nanas," aka “The Dad-Bod Squad,” who lead cheers with their beer bellies proudly on display. There is also a girls' junior dance team called "The Splitz." They look like Taylor Swift fans. And the team mascot? A Banana named "Split."
Every game begins with the "Banana Baby ceremony," where a baby in a banana costume is lifted by a parent to the pitcher's mound while players and fans salute and "Circle of Life" plays. There is something for everybody in Banana Ball... except the creepers who would sexually objectify traditional cheerleaders. For the win, Cole!
But wait, wait… There’s more. The cheerleaders!
There are the "Savannah Banana Nanas," composed of women over sixty-five doing hip-hop dances, and the "Man-Nanas," aka “The Dad-Bod Squad,” who lead cheers with their beer bellies proudly on display. There is also a girls' junior dance team called "The Splitz." They look like Taylor Swift fans. And the team mascot? A Banana named "Split."
Every game begins with the "Banana Baby ceremony," where a baby in a banana costume is lifted by a parent to the pitcher's mound while players and fans salute and "Circle of Life" plays. There is something for everybody in Banana Ball... except the creepers who would sexually objectify traditional cheerleaders. For the win, Cole!
Bob Kendrick with Prime Time game manager Ryan Howard and team manager Errick Fox in uniforms honoring the original Clowns.
Obviously, rival Banana Ball teams are popping up all over the country, and this fall, the league formally inducted the "Indianapolis Clowns." The original Indianapolis Clowns were a popular team in the Negro Leagues, including such legends as Hank Aaron and Satchel Paige. This revival club wears a modernized form of the uniform jerseys of the old club. The revival of the Clowns name was done in partnership with the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, and former Major League first baseman Ryan Howard is the “Prime Time manager” for the team. Respect.
Cole is obviously swinging for the fences when it comes to pleasing a crowd, but he’s not swinging wildly. At one point, he took to videotaping the crowds in order to study what was happening on the field when walkouts would occur. There’s a science as well as an art to Banana Ball.
And, yes, this blog is about theatre. Is anybody videotaping or polling our audiences to determine why they are walking out.... or whether they wanted to walk out but didn't? Why is live theatre becoming something of a cultural oxbow lake, cut off from the currents of mainstream popular culture, stagnating into a bog of mediocrity?
Cole is obviously swinging for the fences when it comes to pleasing a crowd, but he’s not swinging wildly. At one point, he took to videotaping the crowds in order to study what was happening on the field when walkouts would occur. There’s a science as well as an art to Banana Ball.
And, yes, this blog is about theatre. Is anybody videotaping or polling our audiences to determine why they are walking out.... or whether they wanted to walk out but didn't? Why is live theatre becoming something of a cultural oxbow lake, cut off from the currents of mainstream popular culture, stagnating into a bog of mediocrity?
How are producers adjusting to changes in audience tastes and time-money budgets? Let's take a look:
The majority of new play competitions are now featuring nothing but ten-minute plays. Or, as we used to call them, "skits" and "sketches." No time for subplots, character development, or anything else but maybe one plot twist and a laugh or two. But cheap. And if you don't like what you see, there'll be another one along in ten minutes.
And fifty minutes, which used to be the length of a one-act play, is now defined in some venues as "full-length." Very few plays—usually the vintage ones—still have two intermissions. Many plays don't have any intermissions at all. Casts are getting smaller and smaller, and single sets are practically de rigueur for new plays.
But isn’t this what Jesse Cole did.. adjust to the times? No! He understood that two hours was a good thing. He didn't establish a 50-minute game. He didn't arrange for an exhibition of short, but disconnected 10-minute plays. And he didn't skimp on the drama. He amped the opportunities. He keeps his eye on the ball.
What live theater is doing is actually the opposite of Jesse Cole’s strategy. It is just naked cost-cutting. It's lazy moves to lop off the most obvious, low-hanging fruit of production expenses. It's actually cutting off the nose to spite the face. These moves on the part of producers decrease and eliminate the spectacle, disincentivize audience investment, and minimize suspense and momentum. Plays are getting small in every way. Actors are at risk of losing range. Stakes are lowered. As the stories are stripped down, themes are increasingly trivial and only marginally relevant. The original definition of theatre as "an arena of significant events” is becoming sadly archaic.
And the more live theatre loses audiences and hemorrhages red ink, the deeper the cuts. Think of the money that could be saved by not producing at all!
The majority of new play competitions are now featuring nothing but ten-minute plays. Or, as we used to call them, "skits" and "sketches." No time for subplots, character development, or anything else but maybe one plot twist and a laugh or two. But cheap. And if you don't like what you see, there'll be another one along in ten minutes.
And fifty minutes, which used to be the length of a one-act play, is now defined in some venues as "full-length." Very few plays—usually the vintage ones—still have two intermissions. Many plays don't have any intermissions at all. Casts are getting smaller and smaller, and single sets are practically de rigueur for new plays.
But isn’t this what Jesse Cole did.. adjust to the times? No! He understood that two hours was a good thing. He didn't establish a 50-minute game. He didn't arrange for an exhibition of short, but disconnected 10-minute plays. And he didn't skimp on the drama. He amped the opportunities. He keeps his eye on the ball.
What live theater is doing is actually the opposite of Jesse Cole’s strategy. It is just naked cost-cutting. It's lazy moves to lop off the most obvious, low-hanging fruit of production expenses. It's actually cutting off the nose to spite the face. These moves on the part of producers decrease and eliminate the spectacle, disincentivize audience investment, and minimize suspense and momentum. Plays are getting small in every way. Actors are at risk of losing range. Stakes are lowered. As the stories are stripped down, themes are increasingly trivial and only marginally relevant. The original definition of theatre as "an arena of significant events” is becoming sadly archaic.
And the more live theatre loses audiences and hemorrhages red ink, the deeper the cuts. Think of the money that could be saved by not producing at all!
I understand that live theatre is not Banana Ball. But there is much to be learned from Cole’s experiment. I am remembering an apocryphal anecdote about Russian actor, director, and producer Konstantin Stanislavski. When asked if there was a difference between children’s theatre and theatre for adults, he responded, “Yes! Children’s theatre is harder!”
Why would he say that? Because when a play fails to engage the attention of a child, that child will let us know it. They will wander into the aisle or onto the stage. They will turn around and begin a loud conversation with their neighbor, who is probably also bored. Children will make the dramaturgical failures of the play into a serious problem for the producers, actors, and playwright... which it should be. Modern audiences are too polite, and producers oblige them by turning out the lights, so they can nap. Wagner was the first to do that in 1876, at the premiere of his Ring Cycle in Bayreuth. Perhaps that was the beginning of the end. Imagine the Banana fans sitting in isolating darkness, unable to share their experience with those 8100 other fans...
What if the true immersive experience is one where the audience is thoroughly immersed in the experience of being part of an audience, where they can register and reflect the bad calls by the playwright and actors, where they can catch the occasional foul ball and even change the trajectory of the game?
What if we stopped the piecemeal removal of the vital organs of live theatre, and began to dramaturg a play as if it were a spectator sport? Because, swear to God, that's what it is.
Why would he say that? Because when a play fails to engage the attention of a child, that child will let us know it. They will wander into the aisle or onto the stage. They will turn around and begin a loud conversation with their neighbor, who is probably also bored. Children will make the dramaturgical failures of the play into a serious problem for the producers, actors, and playwright... which it should be. Modern audiences are too polite, and producers oblige them by turning out the lights, so they can nap. Wagner was the first to do that in 1876, at the premiere of his Ring Cycle in Bayreuth. Perhaps that was the beginning of the end. Imagine the Banana fans sitting in isolating darkness, unable to share their experience with those 8100 other fans...
What if the true immersive experience is one where the audience is thoroughly immersed in the experience of being part of an audience, where they can register and reflect the bad calls by the playwright and actors, where they can catch the occasional foul ball and even change the trajectory of the game?
What if we stopped the piecemeal removal of the vital organs of live theatre, and began to dramaturg a play as if it were a spectator sport? Because, swear to God, that's what it is.
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