By Will Carlin
In late August, 2007, two little league baseball teams were playing each other far from home. The team dressed in royal blue with red trim was from Coon Rapids, Minnesota, and they had scored one run in each of the first two innings. Their opponents, from Chandler, Arizona, were dressed in light blue with white trim, and they got on the scoreboard in the third inning when they scored two to tie the game.
The two teams of 12-year-old boys were playing each other in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, at the Little League World Series in the final game of pool play. Each team had won one game and lost one in the pool, so the winner of this contest would advance to the semifinals; the loser would be done.
In the fifth inning, the Minnesota manager, Mark Lowe, passed the ball to hurler Tanner Lowe, one of the stars on the team and also his son. Normally one of the toughest pitchers on the team, Lowe walked the first batter, allowed a bloop single, threw a wild pitch and gave up another walk to load the bases with one out.
“Our game plan is offense,” said Arizona coach Clay Bellinger. “We don’t bunt a lot. If a guy’s on base, we want these kids swinging. Let him swing his bat, and good things will happen.”
Good things did. Two singles, a walk and two doubles later, the score was a whopping 9-2. And that was how it ended. As the two teams met near the pitcher’s mound to line up for the traditional post-game handshake, two of the Minnesota players were seen spitting in their hands before shaking hands.
ESPN’s viewers were outraged, and they flooded the station with phone calls. Two days later, Coon Rapids manager Mark Lowe issued a public apology for the incident.
It is clear that the handshake is important to many people, but its origin is surprisingly unclear.
The most common explanation is that in medieval times, an extended, open right hand showed you were not carrying a weapon; if two knights met and shook hands, there was a presumed level of trust that neither would stab the other. Carrying this further, the shaking motion is supposed to have evolved from the desire to shake free any weapons hidden up the sleeve.
However, there are a few archaeological ruins that show handshaking was practiced in ancient Greece as far back as the 5th century BC. Philip A. Busterson, in his book Social Rituals of the British, traces the handshake’s Western roots back to Sir Walter Raleigh, claiming he introduced the custom into the British Court during the late 16th Century.
The form of the handshake has been important from the start, and there are a number that people dread.
The cold fish, for example, is when one person puts his hand in the other’s and just lets it dangle there, like a cold fish. Almost everyone hates getting it.
The bonecrusher is one that people don’t just dislike; many fear it. This is done by someone who wants to prove at first meeting that he is the alpha male, and he tries to dominate you with a super strong handshake. Firm is good; crushing someone’s hand usually succeeds primarily in conveying obnoxiousness.
The woodchopper is when someone pumps your hand too many times. In squash, for example, one to three pumps is normal; the woodchopper, once he has hold of your hand, often pumps seven to ten times. Usually just overenthusiastic, the chopper usually just makes the handshake awkward.
The left-hander is done when someone has an impediment with their right hand and, instead, offers their left. This is fine when there something really is wrong, but when it is done out of affectation, it is considered somewhat insulting. There used to be a player who would never shake with his right hand before a match; he probably didn’t know how many people he annoyed.
In sports, the handshake constantly evolves. First, there was hand-slapping as opposed to the shake. That evolved to the high five and now has mostly transitioned to the fist bump. Some athletes have taken the shake to a multi-part sequence that is highly choreographed. These are fun and almost always are done by members of a team – almost like the fabled secret handshake; you have to be a member to know how to do it.
Competitors often shake hands before battling one another to convey trust and equality. It is the post-match shake, however, that people really care about, and its form is very important. Each hand should fit perfectly into the other, thumb web to thumb web. Then a measured amount of pressure is applied. It can be a lot, or it can be moderate, but it should be equal – part of the act is cooperatively finding agreeable mutual pressure. And there has to be eye contact.
In tennis, you often see disappointed players do a quick handshake—almost a cold fish and without any eye contact. They have performed the task, but they have missed the point. It is a rarer snub in squash, but it happens.
Why is the post-match shake so important? Most will tell you that it is a sign of good sportsmanship, but it is more than that. The handshake is a mutual thank you.
All sports require opponents. Without them, the sport makes no sense, there is no satisfaction, there is no goal to accomplish. Whether one has won or lost, the handshake is a thank you to the other for being there, for providing the needed opposition.
When those little leaguers lost their game, undoubtedly they were disappointed. And only twelve, they likely wanted to prove to themselves that they were more worthy (“they may have won the game, but we got them!).
Ideally, they learned a lesson in good sportsmanship; ideally, they learned about the importance of the handshake; ideally, they learned how to properly give thanks.
