“Unofficial” Savannah Bananas Application
Some people send résumés. I built a fan page.
I didn’t apply through a job board. I applied through joy. Because what the Savannah Bananas are doing isn’t just changing baseball — it’s changing how people experience fun, connection, and community. And that’s a game I’ve been playing my whole life.
This is an unsolicited, unapologetically enthusiastic application to join the Bananas in whatever wild, wonderful, and meaningful way I can. Marketing. Events. Fan experience. Hot dog choreography. You name it. I'm in.
Here’s why I think we’d make a great team.
When you’re ready, let’s talk. Shoot me a note HERE.
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I know there’s a waitlist—and I’m on it.
But I’d love the chance to talk with the Banana team and see if there’s a fit. Not just for a job, but for a mission. I’m not sending this because I’m curious. I’m sending it because my heart’s in it.
Let’s talk ideas, energy, and how I can help take Banana Ball even further—whether it’s marketing, events, storytelling, or something you haven’t even named yet.
If there’s a way in, I’m ready. -
Marketing. Events. Magic.
Whatever helps the team most—I’m a senior marketing leader who builds fan-first experiences. I’ll bring the ideas, the plan, and the playlist. -
Because you’re doing what the rest of us only talked about.
You proved joy scales. You built a business on heart and originality. I’ve spent my career building fan-first experiences—now I want to build them with you. Full-time, full-heart, whatever you need. -
Jesse, you’ve proven that being different works.
You turned fun into fuel. Fans into family. Baseball into something unforgettable.
I’ve spent my career building joy-fueled experiences. I’m ready to bring that to Banana Ball—on the road, behind the curtain, wherever I’m needed. -
The Great Banana Ball Takeover
A nationwide contest to find one small town ready to go completely Bananas. The winning town gets a full-scale Banana Ball invasion—one unforgettable day where the team takes over everything.
Local shops rebrand. Schools teach Banana Ball history. The mayor wears a yellow tux. Every menu includes at least one banana dish. Then we cap it all off with a game like no other—full crowd, full show, full joy.
It’s not just an event. It’s a full-town fan experience that puts small-town pride on center stage. And it belongs on ESPN. -
Savannah. 2019.
Planning a corporate event, everyone I met lit up talking about this baseball team. Not casual fandom—full-body, “you-have-to-see-this” excitement. You hadn’t gone global yet, but the magic was already real. I saw it before the world tour, the documentaries, the 60 Minutes piece. You were a movement in the making. -
You give people permission to be joyful.
In a world full of rules and ROI, you remind us that fun is the point. You’ve built a team, a business, and a movement that celebrates connection, surprise, and showing up fully.
Also, your social media? Chef’s kiss. -
I’m a marketing guy who builds feelings, not just campaigns.
20+ years crafting moments that people remember, repost, and talk about for years. I specialize in live experiences—but I speak brand, growth, and social fluently. I don’t just want to work for the Bananas. I want to amplify what you’ve already built. -
Turning chaos into confetti.
Faced with 200 global execs, a tight schedule, and the endless temptations of Bourbon Street, I did what any reasonable marketer would do: I threw a parade.
Brass band, full NOPD escort, no man left behind.
It was supposed to be a walk to dinner. It became a moment they still talk about. -
I actually wore a yellow tux to my best friend’s wedding. True story.
But more than the suit, my Yellow Tux is how I think: bold, fan-first, and unafraid to stand out when it matters. I design experiences that surprise, connect, and leave people saying, “That was unforgettable.” Always intentional. Never ordinary. -
If it doesn’t make people feel something, it’s not worth making.
Joy isn’t a side effect—it’s the strategy. I lead with heart, obsess over detail, and turn marketing into theater. Standing ovations optional—but likely. -
I stay calm and start solving.
Like the time 200 people were stranded across Europe with 50 mph winds threatening our event in Iceland. Flights canceled. Plans collapsing.
But with some grit, charm, and a lot of late-night calls—we got every single guest there.
Disaster didn’t win. The Northern Lights did. -
The Clio Awards.
When I took over, it was bloated and fading. I cut 380 categories to 80, brought the show back to NYC, and got it featured in Mad Men. We hit $12M in revenue and 19,000+ entries—the most in 50 years. Prestige restored. Cue curtain. -
At Magnite (post-IPO):
Led global rebrand across 5 continents
Produced 50+ events annually
Created Automation Summit → 6 analyst upgrades
Boosted large-deal velocity 25% YoY through live experiences
At InMobi (mobile platform):
150% increase in lead volume
43% improvement in lead progression
Record attendance at Advertising Week NYC
Translation: I can measure joy, scale wonder, and turn moments into movements.
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The Yacht Debacle | Cannes Lions, 2016
72 hours before showtime, our $20M yacht gets impounded in Italy. No drama—just insurance paperwork and a judge who went home early.
I sourced four backups while bleeding on a plane (don’t ask), bribed a harbor master with Dom Pérignon, and landed a better boat—right in front of the Palais.
The result? Our most talked-about event of the year. Crisis: upgraded. -
The Game of Thrones Final Season Premiere | Iceland
HBO Nordic trusted me with their final season launch just for my company. I gave them an authentic Viking longhouse, Icelandic horses, and brennivín toasts under the Northern Lights. 200 global tech execs walked into a “corporate event” and left inside a legend.
It trended. It converted. People still talk about it like it was fiction.
That’s what I do: build realities people want to live in. -
The Portland Pickles. No question.
They’ve had Evel Knievel stunts, Dilly Parton Night, and a stolen mascot that wound up at Voodoo Doughnut. It’s baseball meets block party. Different vegetable. Same fan-first philosophy. -
Title: Vice President of Joyful Chaos / Expansion Scout / Founding Member of the Tempe Tantrums
Location: Anywhere there’s sun, spirit, and a strong Wi-Fi signal (but probably Phoenix)2026 – Helped launch Banana Ball’s Southwest invasion
Founded the Tempe Tantrums: the desert’s most entertaining ball club and the first franchise born from the Banana movement.
Turned water coolers into hype machines. Helped build the team, the story, and the fanbase from scratch.
Still undefeated in crowd-surf races and mascot dance-offs.2027 – Became part owner, full-time dreamer, and unofficial Banana Ball historian
Traveled the country to train new expansion teams on the Fans First philosophy.
Built marketing roadmaps that traded CPMs for standing ovations.
Helped turn Banana Ball into the most talked-about brand in sports—not just for the show, but for the soul.2028 – Retired from PowerPoint forever
Still throwing unforgettable events. Still pushing boundaries. Still dressing like a human highlight reel.
But now doing it with a yellow tux and equity. -
Yesterday.
(But if you need me today, I’ve got my laptop and a yellow tie.)
PLAY BALL!
If you’re still reading this, we’re already in extra innings—so, let’s talk.
Worst case? You get a great story.
Best case? We build something unforgettable together.
Shoot me a note HERE.
“Banana Ball energy. Wedding edition.”
Circa late 1900’s