If you’ve spent more than five minutes on TikTok or Instagram Reels in the last few years, you’ve seen them. A pitcher on stilts. A batter lighting his bat on fire. A middle-aged man in a bright yellow tuxedo dancing like his life depends on it. That man is Jesse Cole, and he’s the owner of the Savannah Bananas, a team that has somehow turned a failing collegiate summer league spot into a global phenomenon with a waitlist for tickets that stretches into the millions.
It’s easy to look at the yellow suit and think it's just a gimmick. You might think he's just another guy trying to go viral. But the reality of how Jesse Cole became the owner of the Savannah Bananas is actually a lot more stressful—and frankly, a lot more impressive—than the choreographed dances suggest. It’s a story about being completely broke, sleeping on an air mattress, and deciding that "normal" baseball was fundamentally broken.
He didn't just buy a team; he invented a sport.
The $1.1 Million Gamble That Almost Ended Everything
Most people don't realize that when Jesse and his wife, Emily, founded the team in 2016, they were essentially homeless. They had emptied their savings. They were $1.1 million in debt. They were living in a house they couldn't afford to furnish, sleeping on an air mattress while trying to sell tickets to a game nobody wanted to see.
In those early days, the phone didn't ring. Like, at all.
Jesse tells this story often because it highlights the "fans first" philosophy that now defines the brand. On the first day they opened for business in Savannah, they sold exactly two tickets. Two. Most people would have quit. Most people would have gone back to a steady job in sports management or coaching. Instead, Jesse leaned harder into the weirdness. He realized that if he couldn't compete with the history of the Atlanta Braves, he had to compete with the circus.
He named the team the Bananas. People hated it.
"You’re making a mockery of the game," they said. "This will never work in a town like Savannah," others claimed. But Jesse knew something they didn't: baseball is slow. It’s long. It’s often boring for kids. By focusing on the "show" rather than the "score," he tapped into an audience that traditional sports had completely ignored.
Banana Ball: Why the Rules Changed
You can't talk about the owner of the Savannah Bananas without talking about Banana Ball. This isn't just regular baseball with some dancing; it’s a completely different set of rules designed for speed and chaos.
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- The Two-Hour Time Limit: No more four-hour games. If the clock hits two hours, you finish the inning and that’s it.
- No Stepping Out: Batters stay in the box. If they step out, it's a strike.
- No Bunting: Bunting is "uncool," so Jesse banned it.
- Fans Catching Fouls: This is the big one. If a fan catches a foul ball, the batter is out.
Honestly, it sounds like chaos because it is. But this chaos is why they sell out every single game. Jesse realized that the "product" wasn't the baseball—it was the feeling of being at a party where a baseball game happened to break out. He looked at every "pain point" of a traditional stadium experience and killed it. He made the food all-inclusive. He removed the advertisements from the outfield walls. He made sure the players spent more time high-fiving kids than sitting in the dugout.
It’s a business model built on the idea that "different is better than better." You can try to make a better baseball team, or you can just make a different experience entirely.
The Man in the Yellow Tuxedo
Why the suit? Jesse wears a bright yellow tuxedo every single day. Even in the sweltering Georgia heat where the humidity makes you feel like you're breathing soup. He has dozens of them. It’s become a uniform, a suit of armor that signals he’s "on."
But behind the suit is a guy who is obsessively studying Walt Disney and P.T. Barnum. If you look at Jesse's office, or listen to him talk about his influences, he’s rarely talking about MLB managers. He’s talking about how Disney World manages lines. He’s talking about how Broadway shows pace their performances.
He’s a student of "attention." In a world where everyone is fighting for a slice of your brain space, Jesse Cole figured out that being the loudest, brightest, and most joyful thing in the room is a winning strategy. He’s the owner of the Savannah Bananas, but he’s really the Chief Entertainment Officer.
Is it Still Baseball?
This is where the purists get cranky. There is a legitimate debate in the sports world about whether what the Bananas do is "disrespectful" to the game.
I’ve seen former pro players join the Bananas—guys like Bill Lee or even briefly Eric Byrnes—and they usually say the same thing. The pressure is actually higher in Banana Ball because you’re performing and playing at the same time. You’re pitching a 90mph fastball, but you’re also doing a backflip.
Jesse’s stance is pretty clear: if the stands are empty, the game dies. If the stands are full of kids who are actually excited to be there, the game lives. He’s not trying to replace MLB; he’s trying to provide an alternative for people who want to have fun. The Bananas transitioned from the Coastal Plain League (a collegiate wood-bat league) to a full-time professional "World Tour" model in 2022 because the demand was too high to stay in one place.
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They are now essentially the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball. They travel the country, play in MLB stadiums, and sell out venues in minutes.
What the "World Tour" Means for the Future
The move to the World Tour was a massive risk. It meant leaving the safety of a league structure and becoming an independent entity. As the owner of the Savannah Bananas, Jesse had to bet that people would pay to see the Bananas play their rival team, the Party Animals, rather than a rotating cast of local college teams.
It worked. Better than anyone expected.
The 2024 and 2025 tours saw the team playing in front of 30,000+ people in stadiums like Fenway Park and Minute Maid Park. It’s a level of scale that shouldn't be possible for a team that started with a $1.1 million debt and a dream about a yellow tuxedo.
The Business of "Fans First"
If you want to understand Jesse Cole’s success, you have to look at what he doesn't do.
He doesn't have "official sponsors" plastered all over the stadium. Think about that. Most sports owners see every square inch of a stadium as ad space. Jesse sees it as a distraction from the fan experience. He turned down six-figure sponsorship deals because he didn't want a "Geico Home Run" or a "Coca-Cola Foul Pole."
He also keeps the ticket prices flat. No "dynamic pricing" where the price goes up because the team is popular. No "convenience fees" that make a $20 ticket cost $45 at checkout. He’s playing the long game. He knows that if he treats people well now, they’ll be fans for thirty years.
It’s a "business for humans" approach that is rare in 2026.
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Actionable Lessons from the Banana King
You don’t have to own a baseball team to use Jesse Cole’s playbook. Whether you’re running a small business or just trying to build a personal brand, there are some very specific things he does that anyone can copy.
1. Identify the "Friction" and Kill It
Jesse looked at baseball and saw long wait times, expensive food, and boring lulls. He killed all of them. Look at your own work. What’s the most annoying part for your "customer"? Fix that first, even if it costs you money in the short term.
2. Stand Out (Literally)
The yellow suit isn't an accident. It’s a signal. You need a "yellow tuxedo" in your field—something that makes you instantly recognizable. It could be a specific way you write, a unique service you offer, or even just a level of enthusiasm that nobody else has.
3. Test Everything, Keep the Fun
The Bananas try hundreds of things that fail. They’ve tried "living" statues that didn't work. They’ve tried mid-game bits that bombed. But they keep the stuff that makes people laugh. Don't be afraid to look stupid while you're trying to find what works.
4. Build a Community, Not a Customer Base
The Bananas don't just sell tickets; they interact with people. Jesse is often at the gates greeting fans personally. He answers emails. He’s visible. People feel like they know the owner of the Savannah Bananas, and that makes them loyal in a way a corporate logo never could.
Moving Forward with the Bananas
The story of the Savannah Bananas is still being written. With talk of more teams joining the "Banana Ball" universe and potential international dates, the scale is only getting bigger. But at the center of it all is still a guy who just wants to make sure people aren't bored.
If you're looking to apply the Bananas' philosophy to your own life, start by asking: "What is everyone else doing, and what if I did the exact opposite?"
That's how you go from sleeping on an air mattress to owning the most famous baseball team in the world.
Next Steps for Your Own "Banana" Strategy:
- Audit your "Customer Pain": Write down the top three complaints people have in your industry. If you’re a freelancer, is it communication? If you’re a shop owner, is it the checkout line? Resolve to eliminate one of those entirely this month.
- Create Your "Fans First" Moment: Do one thing for a client or customer today that is completely unscalable and "un-profitable" but will make them smile. Send a handwritten note, give a small freebie, or just take ten extra minutes to listen.
- Read "Find Your Yellow Tux": Jesse Cole literally wrote the book on this. If you want the deeper dive into his mindset, it's the best place to start.
- Watch a Game (With an Analytical Eye): Don't just watch for the dancing. Watch how they manage the transitions between innings. Every second is accounted for. That’s the secret sauce: the discipline behind the madness.