ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI — It was a memorable Saturday night at Busch Stadium, where no one cared about the score. Not because of the Savannah Bananas’ exhibition game, but because one man — in a bright yellow uniform and the familiar No. 50 — stepped up to the mound for the last time. And the stadium erupted: Adam Wainwright was back.
The Savannah Bananas — a baseball team known for its “Banana Ball” style of sports and comedy — brought the party to St. Louis. Spinning pitches, hip-hop dance moves on the field, magic-like pitches … it all made for an evening of laughter, music and surprises.
But as soon as Wainwright emerged from the dugout, donning his signature glove, things stopped.
The stadium erupted. The cameras shook. His throat tightened.
He didn’t have to throw fastballs, he didn’t have to record strikeouts. He just had to show up. He just had to raise his hand. He just had to smile.
“It’s crazy… I never thought I’d get to say goodbye this way — with 40,000 people screaming my name, wearing a banana suit, and still being called ‘Waino,’” he said with a laugh after the game.
Adam Wainwright won the World Series. He had 200 MLB victories. He was the Cardinals’ spiritual pillar for nearly two decades.
But at the end of the 2023 season, Waino quietly retired. No farewell party. No tribute pitch. Just quietly stepped out of the spotlight the way he had always served — for the team, not himself.
And now, in a “entertaining” performance in the heart of St. Louis, something strange happened: Waino got the moment he had missed.
He stepped onto the mound.
He looked around the field.
He threw the ball.
The stadium erupted.
Wainwright was more than just a good player. He was a “wall” in the locker room, a teacher without a title, a leader who didn’t need to raise his voice.
He used his own money to build a summer camp for homeless children, anonymously donated millions of dollars to families affected by tornadoes in Missouri. No newspaper appearances, no requests for recognition.
And perhaps that’s why the moment thousands of people stood up to applaud him – when he was wearing the comedy yellow jersey of Bananas – became the most beautiful paradox of the summer of 2025.
The moment Wainwright waved to the crowd – in the background was a sea of people in red jerseys, faces filled with tears, mixed with laughter – was called by the media “the most beautiful farewell photo in the history of Busch Stadium.”
No ceremony. No grand celebration. Just let the fans say goodbye in the most passionate way possible.
Adam Wainwright may no longer appear on the ERA charts. But in the hearts of St. Louis, he will remain – not just because of his pitching, but because he was always the last one to leave the dugout, and the first to say thank you.
“Busch Stadium tonight didn’t just cheer for Waino the pitcher. They cheered for Waino the man.”
– A commentator said so, as the stadium lights went out, and thousands of people were still standing and applauding in the dark.