This past weekend, my family and I had the chance to attend an event with the Savanah Bananas. Not a game, but an EVENT - one that left my head spinning.
I was BLOWN away by the experience - everything from the first marketing email to the pre-game tailgate party and through to the end-of-game email exceeded all expectations. They created a sense of energy, excitement, and exclusivity, which made you feel LUCKY to be there, because not everyone who wanted tickets got them.
If you've never heard of the Savannah Bananas, imagine the Harlem Globetrotters and a three-ring circus having a baby raised by Will Ferrell and deciding to play baseball—that's the Savannah Bananas.
They're like the rebellious, fun-loving cousin of traditional baseball, showing up to the family reunion in a banana costume, juggling bats while drinking a beer, and turning the event into a comedy show.
While most baseball teams are watching the scoreboard and playing to win, the Bananas are watching the crowd and playing for smiles.
Take a second and watch this clip from the game I attended this weekend ( I was just to the right of the dancing banana (Split is his name) in center field. Be sure to watch until the end - simply mind blowing.
You kind of get it now, right? Now imagine five hours of non-stop joy, laughter, and some incredible baseball. They even had a 9 piece house band!
Baseball's most bizarre, beautiful, and bonkers phenomenon breaks all the rules and establishes their own, dubbed Banana Ball rules. It's serious baseball, done in a very unserious way. There are choreographed dances, batters on stilts, and some of the wildest catches you have ever seen. While traditional baseball is looking for ways to engage and grow its audience, the Bananas are so in demand that game tickets are secured in a lottery drawing that sells out in minutes after the dates are announced.
The Savannah Bananas were founded in 2016 when Jesse Cole, a former baseball player turned marketing genius (who wears a bright yellow tuxedo), took over the struggling Savannah minor league team. The previous team, the Savannah Sand Gnats (gee - I wonder why no one wanted to go see the sand fleas?), had left town, and local fans weren't exactly banging down the doors to see another small-time baseball team. So, Jesse and his wife Emily did what any rational people would do: they drained their savings, sold their house, and bet everything on making baseball fun again.
Their first year was rough. They ran out of money before the season started, and Jesse had to personally call season ticket holders to apologize for not having any actual tickets printed. But then something wild happened: people loved the energy, the entertainment, and the sheer weirdness of Banana Ball. Within a few years, they weren't just filling seats—they were selling out every game, building a nationwide fanbase, and racking up millions of social media followers. Today, the Bananas don't just play in Savannah—they take their show on the road like a rock band, selling out stadiums nationwide.
What does all of this have to do with music education?
Music educators may not be able to do backflips while catching a baseball or lip-singing to the Spice Girls, but we can up our game regarding recruiting, securing, and selling our product: music FUN!
Let me explain how they do it.
It all starts with their emails. Before you ever set foot in their stadium, the Bananas have already made you feel like you've won the lottery just by being allowed to buy a ticket. Their messaging is clear and energizing: "You are one of the lucky few chosen to witness this magic. Prepare yourself for the most incredible baseball experience of your life."
Now, imagine if our music recruitment emails sounded like this:
"Congratulations! Your child has been selected to join one of the most exclusive and exciting organizations in the school! This isn't just music; this is a passport to adventure, creativity, and friendships that last a lifetime. Welcome to the band/orchestra/choir family—where the soundtrack of your child's life begins!"
Three hours before the game begins, they host a pre-show where the crowd is serenaded, amused, and taught how to participate in the Banana Ballexperience. Through a cleverly staged and entertaining production, we were taught the rules, scoring system, and when, where, and how to cheer. We even learned a couple of the dances so we could participate during the game.
Having never been to a Savanah Bananas game before, we instantly felt like we were insiders and knew all of the rules the "vets" did. And the vets are all in - the garb, the gear, and the players, ALL IN!
Imagine if we did this with our incoming students. What if we taught them the lingo, chants, and rituals of being in the group - they would feel as if they are already in the know and have exclusive access to the coolest show on campus.
What really hooks you is from the moment you inquire about tickets until you leave the parking lot, the Bananas don't just sell you baseball—they sell joy and a feeling of community. They make it clear that attending a game isn't about balls and strikes; it's about being a part of something special. Something that everyone wants to be a part of but isn't. While others have FOMO, you have family. You even end the game, arm in arm with complete strangers, singing Stand By Me.
That's exactly how we need to frame our music programs. Music is not just another elective—it's an experience, a family, a place where kids find their people, and parents know their kids are safe.
Before you naysayers proclaim, "Scott, we can't have a breakout choreographed dance in the middle of a concert. Our superintendent will not approve of kids in banana costumes setting off pyrotechnics (if we could, we would)." However, what we can do is rethink the way we make students and parents think and feel about the experience of joining a music group.
Think about the typical music recruitment night: a PowerPoint, polite clapping, and maybe a cookie if the booster parents felt generous. Now imagine if, instead, we went Bananas with it:
We teach the kids what to be excited about before the night and who to cheer for.
The moment families walk in, they are celebrated—music playing, videos of students having fun, and directors greeting them like VIPs.
Media, sound, merch, and other things associated with a well-planned public gathering.
Kids and staff in well-adorned shirts were stationed throughout the experience to answer all questions.
Contests, games, autograph sessions, photo booths, and activities to keep kids engaged and get them excited.
Instead of speeches about commitment, we show them the joy of music—student testimonials, performances that feel like events, and a true sense of community.
We end by making it clear that this is not just another class—it's the best decision they will ever make.
The Bananas have proven that when you make something fun, people want to be part of it. Music education is already fun—we don't always communicate or sell it convincingly.
While we may never recruit students by lighting an instrument on fire (no one likes the oboe anyway) and having the drum major do backflips, we can inject some potassium passion into our approach.
So, since it's recruitment (and retention) season, how about we go the extra mile to make kids feel like joining music isn't just a class choice—it's a once-in-a-lifetime. life-changing opportunity.
And who knows? Maybe they'll go BANANAS.
Have a great week!
Scott