For years and years, Kyle Field — the sixth-largest non-racing stadium in the world — has been known for one thing only: edge-of-your-seat Southeastern Conference football. It’s where giants have fallen and odds have been turned upside down, but on a spring day with a sky bluer than a bluebonnet field, 102,000 yellow-clad fans were joined for an all-together different reason. 

To see the nationally renowned Savannah Bananas. 

While my knowledge of these sleeveless sluggers was limited before bearing witness to their matchup against the Texas Tailgaters, all I could remember was an array of posts and comments on the sports sphere, all claiming this brand of baseball as one of the worst things imaginable. 

Though the exact words slip my mind, any hope of remembering them was lost far before first pitch, as the banana bash began with mascots, bands and the raucous crowd of young fans screaming for a chance at an autograph, dare I say reminiscing about my days in the student section yelling on the Maroon Goons & Co. 

But as the beginning of the contest finally dawned across the stadium, I thought surely my statistical-based affinity for baseball would take over and echo the same sentiments spoken so passionately by those opposed to the extra potassium injected into America’s pastime. But that’s where I was wrong. 

I learned very quickly that Banana Ball is not pretending to be the conventional style of the sport under any sort of guise, but rather making its own mark as a league that is still equally competitive and emotional. 

While fly outs may have come with backflips and quick pop-ups to shallow center included a volleyball-esque rally, the players were all on the same page when it came to putting their best foot forward to get points on the board and achieve victory. 

Now I know to see “points” and “baseball” in the same context is unnerving for some — don’t worry, you’re not alone in this case especially since I myself can’t stand when a run is referred to as a point — but the theatrics of Banana Ball pay no mind to the standard format of the diamond’s logic. 

Part of a set of 11 rules explained just before things kicked off, the mighty voices of the Banana Ball cast explained quick and simple how whichever team scored the most runs in an inning were awarded a point, something the Tailgaters took full advantage of as they entered the final inning with a 4-1 advantage. 

While seemingly complicated at first, both squads got right to work giving fans a taste of what this league is all about, and on the first base side of the diamond, that statement was all too literal, as Tailgaters’ coach Bartman was busy serving up burgers and hotdogs to fans and players alike, which, might I add, were delicious with ketchup. 

But as the night went on and the smiles and cheers among the folk both young and old rose throughout the maroon and white coliseum, it was quite evident that even if there were a hater loose in the sea of yellow and blue, they too were having a great time taking a break from the madness of the world for a perfectly ripe time at an unorthodox ballpark. 

Not to mention the family aspect of such a high-energy affair is second to none. Too often do young parents take their even younger children to a baseball game just for a loss of interest that turns into unrest, forcing an early exit from a family trip out to catch some Vitamin C. But with Fans First Entertainment founder and Savannah Bananas owner Jesse Cole’s creation, families can get some Vitamin B6 with the Bananas and keep their kids engaged and excited about the wide world of sports available right at their fingertips. 

While the obvious counterpoint to the argument is that traditional baseball does not share the same hyperactivity and opening children’s eyes to a “fictional” style of play is unrealistic for their involvement in the game, surely the average 4 to 10 year old is looking for a way to have fun, not to stick to a bunch of slow rules. 

Now truthfully, I’m a sucker to those slow rules. Nothing delights me more than a pitching battle between the leagues’ best or a perfectly executed at-bat to get to the bags; but before I watched my first big league game or wrote my first sports article, I was a young kid who preferred to run around with my imagination than to stay cooped up watching something I didn’t fully understand. 

So with that in mind, is it so detrimental to expose young prospective players to a game that pulls both them and parents away from their devices into a family-oriented environment? Or for those older fans without kids, is it the end of the world to get a good laugh as the home plate umpire busts a move to signal a strikeout?

Put simply: It’s not a big deal. Turning around and seeing players tossing a football to youngsters while others are grabbing signatures reminds a young man of the memories he once made along his path to eternal fandom and how moments like those last a lifetime. 

When it came to the random dances scattered throughout the night, while silly and unlike anything else in any “real” sports league, they were the embodiment of what Cole has done since bringing the Savannah Bananas to life in 2016 — a reason to smile and watch those around you doing the same. 

With names like the Bananas and Tailgaters plus a grill in the dugout and a cinematic take on one of the country’s most dominant sports, there’s a lot to take in during games like these, and while it’s not what many people would consider to be “real baseball,” I implore you to use my response should some give you a hard time:

“So what?”