For former NSU star Danny Hosley, the quirky Savannah Bananas offer ‘a pretty good gig’

NORFOLK — Danny Hosley stood in Harbor Park’s on-deck circle Friday evening, fist-bumping young children through the protective netting as he awaited his turn at the plate.

And then he waited some more.

For several minutes, Hosley watched as his Savannah Bananas teammates executed a choreographed dance number near the first-base line. And then he strode to the plate and stroked an opposite-field single to right field.

The sequence was illustrative of “Banana Ball,” in which the Harlem Globetrotters meet the Larrupin’ Lous.

The Bananas, a barnstorming team of former college and pro players who play by their own unique rules, sold out Harbor Park on Friday night. They also sold it out for Saturday and Sunday, bringing their streak of packing ballparks around the country past 360 games.

Hosley, a former two-way star for Norfolk State and George Mason, started at third base and pitched the ninth inning of a 3-2 victory over the Party Animals to earn what in traditional baseball would be a save.

In between, he danced with his teammates and participated in all the shenanigans required of the strange job he’s had for two years.

Uninhibited performing is not in Hosley’s nature, but he’s grown used to it.

“I’ve had (former) teammates tell me, ‘You’d be the last guy I’d expect to be with the Savannah Bananas,’ ” Hosley, a 24-year-old Vienna native, said. “I was never really that guy who was singing and dancing at practices and games or anything like that. I think that’s why they probably assumed I wouldn’t be doing this in my career. But when they come calling, you answer, and I was super-excited to be here.”

Another former NSU player on the Bananas’ roster is Brandon “Showtime” Crosby, a graduate of Atlee High in Mechanicsville. Crosby, a utility player for Savannah who was an everyday player for the Spartans in 2019 and 2020, caught a ball in foul territory down the first-base line while falling down Friday.

Banana Ball is, by its nature, a juxtaposition. On one hand, players catch routine balls behind their backs, perform complex gymnastics stunts, walk around on stilts and, yes, do plenty of dancing.

But the wildly popular show is executed by people who know what they’re doing.

Early in Friday night’s game, with a runner on second and nobody out, a batter hit a routine ground ball to third base. The runner, as he should have, froze. As the third baseman looked him back to second and threw across the diamond, the shortstop dashed behind the third baseman to cover third.

It was sound, fundamental baseball, even as a strange cover of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” blared at maximum volume over the PA system.

And then everybody danced.

Austin Krzeminski, a 27-year-old right-hander from Atlanta, spent three seasons in the Los Angeles Angels organization and one with the Chicago Cubs.

After a career plagued by injuries that included one appearance at the Triple-A level, Krzeminski said he had no trouble coming to terms with a version of the sport that some might consider less than respectful.

“I feel like this has been like a gateway for me to continue my career,” Krzeminski said. “I gave this a shot. I didn’t know how I would like it, and I absolutely fell in love with it. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had playing baseball.”

Another way playing for the Bananas differs from life in affiliated ball is the schedule. Instead of playing six days a week, the team travels to a different city each weekend and plays three games on consecutive days: Friday through Sunday.

On Fridays and Saturdays, players arrive at the ballpark at 10 or 10:30 a.m. and work out. After lunch, they have afternoon meetings, followed by a daily rehearsal.

It is, after all, a show.

They take batting practice, which looks exactly like affiliated BP, and march around the stadium with VIP ticket holders. By 6 p.m., they’re on the field warming up again.

They play a game governed by a two-hour time limit, interacting with fans throughout. During Friday night’s game, players could be found posing for selfies on the concourse.

Players stay after each performance and sign autographs until about 11 p.m.

Each Sunday, being Getaway Day, brings an afternoon game, requiring a quick turnaround after Saturday’s show.

And they do it all in front of rabid crowds. Though no official attendance figures were available, the ballpark appeared to be as full Friday as it had been in years. The meandering crowd on the concourse at any given moment could’ve been stirred with a stick.

The Bananas had a handful of merchandise tents set up around the stadium, where long lines waited all night long to buy $85 jerseys and $30 T-shirts.

More fans on the concourse than not were wearing some kind of ubiquitously yellow Savannah gear while carrying concessions sold by the resident Norfolk Tides, the team’s payback for renting out the ballpark.

Before Friday night’s game, Hosley used a football to play catch with fans on the first-base side. He then botched a pregame water balloon toss-relay that went from the wall in center to the infield.

It’s all part of the show, which is how the massive gathering is described repeatedly by an on-field emcee.

“At its core, it is baseball,” said Bananas director of baseball operations and pitching coach Adam Virant, a former player for George Mason who helped get Hosley on the team. “If you come watch one of our games, you will leave saying, ‘Wow, that was highly entertaining, but that was a really, really good brand of baseball.’ ”

Hosley, the 2021 MEAC Player of the Year, went undrafted after transferring to GMU. His coach there had played with Virant and recommended Hosley as a player who could do a little bit of everything.

Hosley lives in Savannah for about nine months a year and spends the rest of the time back home with his parents. He said the Bananas’ players “make a decent living” while getting to see the country.

The team recently sold out Boston’s Fenway Park and Cleveland’s Progressive Field.

Virant, a 49-year-old former attorney, called going to work at Fenway “magical.” Krzeminski had worked his whole life to pitch in a venue like that. It just didn’t happen the way he planned.

“It doesn’t matter how you get there, as long as you get there,” Krzeminski said.

Hosley, who throws a sweeping Uncle Charlie curveball, hasn’t totally given up on returning to traditional baseball. If that doesn’t happen, though, he’ll be fine.

“I’ll never say no,” Hosley said. “But to be honest, I’m pretty happy where I am right now in this. I like the direction the Bananas are headed right now for the future. So if an affiliate ball team comes calling, I’d always pick up the phone. But for now, I’m enjoying this.

“As a single guy who’s just playing baseball and traveling on the road, it’s a pretty good gig for me. I can’t complain.”

David Hall, david.hall@pilotonline.com .