Mile High Banana Ball

This past weekend we made a quick trip to Denver with two goals in mind: see our good friends Victoria and Hayden, and catch a Banana Ball game at Coors Field.

The whole thing started months ago when we were trying to get tickets for Savannah. Banana Ball tickets are notoriously hard to come by—last year I struck out entirely, which ended up being fine since we canceled the trip and had a baby instead. This year I told Alison we both needed to enter the ticket lottery to double our chances. In a surprise twist, we both won purchase slots.

When my time came up, I grabbed tickets for a date that worked for us—not perfect, but good enough. We figured we wouldn’t even need Alison’s later slot… until the Bananas accidentally sold all the tickets before her time came up. Fans First is their motto, and they meant it. Jesse Cole, the team’s owner, emailed Alison directly to apologize, and a couple days later they made it right—offering everyone in those later windows free tickets to any other Banana Ball game that season.

We looked at LA. We looked at New York. Then Denver popped up. Perfect. Close to home, good timing, and we could take Victoria and Hayden along for their first Banana Ball game.

We flew out Friday night. The flight was short, a little bumpy, but Mads—on her 12th flight—was in her element. Victoria picked us up, and we headed to their place. Mads stayed up past her bedtime playing with their dog Cooper while we caught up, eventually winding down for the night (though “sleep” was a generous description for how that went).

Saturday morning started with homemade bagels—chewy, warm, and gone in minutes. We walked to the park, where Madeline went down a slide for the first time, and talked all things pregnancy and baby life since Victoria’s expecting. When we got back from the park Madeline took a nap and we were hungry. Before we headed downtown, Victoria treated us to homemade hummus and pita for lunch—because she knew hummus was Madeline’s favorite. She even repeated the gesture the next day, earning instant hero status in Mads’ book. Then it was time to head downtown.

Hayden works near Coors Field and has a parking pass—already saving us $30 before the game even started. Banana Ball is an event you want to get to early. The pregame fun starts long before first pitch, and we arrived just after the gates opened. An employee spotted us in the long line and waved us into a shorter one (having a baby in tow has its perks).

Our seats were incredible—front row, right behind the first base dugout. Naturally, we set Mads on the dugout for a quick photo… which the usher shut down in about three seconds. Photo taken, baby removed.

The pregame show was pure Bananas: a guy balancing everything from a baseball bat to a 10-foot ladder on his face, a marching band, the Man-Nanas (dad-bod cheer squad), and non-stop dancing. Then came the announcement—looking for crawling babies for a race. I grabbed Mads and signed her up immediately.

Mads and I love sharing giant pretzels

At the end of the first inning, we were ready and waiting at the appointed section for the baby race. Only one parent could go down on the field, so I took Madeline and we were ushered into the visitors dugout. First, they lined up all the babies, wrote down their names, and handed me a waiver to sign for both myself and Mads—acknowledging the “inherent risks” of crawling across the grass in front of thousands of people.

We were supposed to race right away, but then word came down they were pushing it to the third inning so it could air on that night’s ESPN broadcast. No complaints here—it just meant more time to hang out in the dugout and take it all in. We watched Dakota “Stilts” Albritton pitch while wearing his actual stilts, which was just as ridiculous and impressive as it sounds. Mads also got to meet Bo the Beaver, the Firefighters’ mascot, and we spent a little time with the Young Professor—the Bananas’ sharply dressed hype man who’d also been at our game in Savannah. I told him about that trip, and he shared how much fun it is to work in a big MLB stadium with a roaring crowd, even if nothing beats the intimacy of their home field in Savannah.

And then—my personal fanboy moment—we met Jesse Cole. I’ve read his book and followed the Bananas’ story for years, so it was surreal to be chatting with the man in the yellow tux right before he went out to emcee the race. We even managed a quick selfie with him.

Finally, it was time. They lined us up on the grass between second and third base and went over the rules: place your baby down in the crawling position, run to the finish line, and once you’re there, turn around and do whatever it takes to coax them forward. The moment the race started, one baby—Paxton—took off like a rocket while the rest sat and took in the crowd. Mads eventually leaned forward and started crawling, making it about a third of the way before Paxton crossed the finish line. That was enough for a solid second place, and I was beaming. She seemed to have a great time, and the crowd was loving it.

We had to wait in the dugout for the half-inning to wrap before heading back, where Alison was waiting at the top of the stairs. The second Mads saw her, her face lit up. To top it off, Blake and Debbie had been watching at home and texted to say they saw their granddaughter on ESPN—proud grandparents moment unlocked. On our walk back to our seats, people kept stopping to tell us how much fun that was and how adorable she was. We couldn’t have agreed more.

The game was everything you’d expect—fast, chaotic, and hilarious. Thirty-one total runs, sixteen trick plays, two Rockies legends making cameos, and a record-breaking 50,000 fans in the stands. The Bananas won, and Mads made it to the very end before falling asleep in Alison’s arms.

Sunday morning started with egg-in-a-hole for breakfast (Alison’s first, now a fan), then a trip to Belleview Park. Mads dipped her toes in the stream, took a train ride with me, and looked ready to cannonball in if given the chance.

Dinner that night was at Linger, a restaurant in a converted mortuary that nods to its history in subtle ways but is now all about vibrant, shareable dishes. We ordered a little of everything, and it was all delicious. Back at the house, we tucked Mads in, then stayed up with homemade cookies, ice cream, and a few rounds of Azul.

It was a short trip, but we packed it full—great friends, a record-setting game, and a baby crawling her way into all of the Banana Ball fans hearts. Monday’s early flight was delayed just enough for an extra coffee stop, and we were still home in time to get Mads to school and jump back into everyday life.