Major League Baseball’s Banana Problem
A while back I wrote about why I’m not exactly in the Savannah Bananas fan club. Don’t get me wrong, I see the genius. They’ve turned baseball into a TikTok-friendly circus, they’ve made millions, and they’ve brought people who wouldn’t know a double play from a double espresso into stadiums. But as a long-suffering baseball fan, I don’t want baseball to become a never-ending talent show. I want baseball to be baseball.
That said, I’m starting to worry about Major League Baseball (MLB) . Not because I think the game itself is broken (I’ll get to the pitch clock in a second), but because MLB seems terrified of letting players show personality, and that’s the very thing people are hungry for.
Bill Veeck Would Have a Heart Attack Watching MLB Now
For the uninitiated: Bill Veeck was baseball’s P.T. Barnum. The guy who once sent a little person (Eddie Gaedel, 3’7”) up to bat wearing number “⅛.” The guy who put players’ names on jerseys before it was normal. The guy who invented fireworks nights, exploding scoreboards, and the “fan in the stands” managerial stunt.
Veeck understood something MLB has forgotten: baseball is entertainment. Yes, it’s a sport. Yes, it’s tradition. But it’s also a product competing for people’s attention. Veeck knew you could honor the sport and still give people a reason to leave their house and buy a ticket.
Was every idea brilliant? God no. “Disco Demolition Night” (a promotional event Veeck’s son Mike spearheaded) ended in a riot and a forfeit. But here’s the thing: people still talk about it. The stunt became part of baseball lore. It mattered. It was bold enough to be remembered.
Now compare that to 2025’s Players Weekend that took place last month: painted bats that looked like crayons. Cute? Sure. Memorable? Nope. The league basically hid the crayons behind the dugout like a nervous parent whispering, “Don’t tell grandma.”
MLB Proved It Can Change. Ie: The Pitch Clock
Here’s what makes the whole situation more frustrating: MLB did make a bold change recently. They added the pitch clock, and the game is better for it.
Games are 24 minutes shorter on average. Pace is faster. Younger fans aren’t as likely to change the channel between pitches. The sport didn’t collapse. Purists didn’t storm the gates. It worked.
That should’ve been a lesson: when you take risks with tradition, the game doesn’t die. It gets better.
So why is MLB so damn afraid of letting players have personalities all season long?
Personality Is Free Marketing
Baseball is missing the most obvious play in the book: personality sells.
The NBA thrives on personalities. LeBron’s tweets, Jimmy Butler’s hair, Giannis telling dad jokes, the league builds storylines that are bigger than the box score.
The NFL lets players celebrate. What started as penalty flags for “excessive celebration” has turned into choreographed dance routines that end up on SportsCenter and TikTok.
Baseball? If a guy flips a bat, the other team throws at his head.
That’s insane. You’re sitting on a product where every player has a built-in spotlight 162 nights a year, and instead of letting them shine, you muzzle them with unwritten rules and a commissioner’s office terrified of memes.
Players Weekend should be the start of something bigger, a year-round platform for players to show off nicknames, personal flair, fashion, music, whatever makes them more than just numbers in a box score. Instead, it’s treated like a kindergarten art project.
This Is Why the Bananas Exist
Let’s be clear: the Savannah Bananas didn’t invent fun. Baseball did. But MLB walked away from it.
When you refuse to give fans joy, someone else will. And that someone else, in this case, a touring circus in yellow uniforms, is now eating your lunch.
The Bananas are proof that the demand is there. People want to laugh, cheer, and see something worth talking about. They want baseball to feel alive. The Bananas went all-in on spectacle because MLB left such a massive vacuum that there was room to build an empire.
The Business Lesson: Don’t Let Fear Write Your Future
This isn’t just baseball’s problem. This is every brand’s problem.
When you cling to tradition so tightly that you forget to adapt, you invite disruption.
When you muzzle the very personalities that could grow your audience, you strangle your own relevance.
When you confuse “protecting the game” with “refusing to evolve,” you end up with crayon bats instead of cultural moments.
Bill Veeck knew it. The Bananas proved it. And the pitch clock should’ve hammered it home: the game survives when you innovate.
Baseball doesn’t need to become a circus. But it does need to remember that it’s entertainment. Let players have personalities. Let them be memorable. Let them be marketable. Because when you play scared, when you play not to lose, you leave the door wide open for someone bolder, crazier, and hungrier to eat your lunch.
And that’s how you end up with the Savannah Bananas as a “global sensation” while MLB is still patting itself on the back for letting a guy use a pencil bat.
Play to win, not to preserve. That’s the real lesson.