COLUMN: Handshakes, pregame rituals and the joy of ‘gearing up’

There’s something enamoring about sports and their handshakes.

Virtually every sport — at least of the team variety — has its postgame handshake tradition. 

As a Little League baseball player at Vine-Ingle here in Macon, I never wanted to shake hands with the opposing team. When we won, I was too excited to sit through the line and see the glum expressions on the other team’s faces. When our team lost, I never wanted to face the other squad.

But the handshakes were an important part of the game. Even if us kids were only thinking about what color Gatorade we’d drink after the last out was made, I think the sportsmanship registered on us.

Postgame cordiality can also lead to the occasional skirmish in sports, though it rarely happens at the youth or high school levels. After a particularly heated showdown, handshakes can turn to snarls and side-eyes in a hurry. (For all the fascinating and occasionally foolish traditions that pundits focus on in the realm of college football, the onus placed on postgame meetings between coaches — especially ones that aren’t the fondest of one another — might be one of the most intriguing trends.)

Then there’s the daps, low-fives and what-have-yous that players have with teammates during a game. These are not nearly as common or symbolic as those postgame greetings, but often memorable because they come after an athlete does something mind-boggling.

Whether it’s the congratulatory fist bumps at home plate after a clutch long ball on the baseball diamond or the group chest bumps after an intense “and-one” bucket on the court, seeing the players gather around one teammate after a key play is fun.

But these are not the athlete acknowledgements I wish to address here. I’ve instead taken a special interest in the pregame handshakes.

There’s just nothing else like the feeling of getting ready, no matter what it is you’re preparing for.

Now, I’m not referring to the exhausting, brain-wracking type of preparation — studying for exams, trying to get in the zone for a job interview or seeing if you can remember all of the PowerPoint slides in your presentation.

Those types of prep can drain you, and typically don’t stick with you in any way after the fact — not any positive way, that is.

It is the preparation directly before the key moment begins, the steeling of oneself just a few ticks away from primetime, that is far more interesting.

To draw on those prior examples: this is sitting in your desk as the professor hands out the exams, one by one; this is straightening your tie before getting up from your chair in the lobby before that interview; it’s popping a mint and plugging your computer up to the projector before that presentation.

“Locking in,” as the kids call it, fascinates me deeply. It’s very present in the sports world. 

In my favorite sport, baseball, pitchers have all sorts of routines before games that help them keep their nerves in check before they toe the slab every fifth day. Some of them don’t shave their beards on days where they are slated to start. Satchel Paige, one of the most dominant pitchers who ever lived and a fixture of the fascinating Negro Leagues decades ago, was convinced rubbing his entire pitching arm with axel grease gave him an edge.

In basketball, take one of the most famous example of a pregame ritual, ever: LeBron James’ chalk clap — or is it more of a toss? Whatever you call the dust bomb of a celebration, it is an electric way to take the court for one of the greatest hoops players who has ever lived. The King also had a phase where he had complex, unique handshakes with each of his teammates pregame. Not as cool as the chalk, but still pretty fun.

Of course, these pregame rituals — handshakes or otherwise — are not limited to the individual. Entire teams often have greetings before game time in the dugout or on the field, though those can often be casual. At the high school level, the pregame meal or the bus ride to the field are moments of solace.

The most mood-setting and interest-piquing of them all for me, however, might just be the simplest thing: the introduction of a starting lineup.

Yes, this ties in with some of the other introductory happenings I’ve already mentioned. LeBron’s chalk certainly was part of a starting lineup reading. Handshakes down the line are also often part of a lineup intro.

But something about hearing the names and numbers of those who will be first into the action feels different somehow. The intros are usually accompanied by music — “Sirius” by The Alan Parsons Project for those iconic ‘90s Chicago Bulls teams featuring Michael Jordan, for instance, or Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater” if you’re the ACE girls basketball team — that get the crowd more involved.

It really boils down to the psyche of it all. As someone who was never athletically gifted, the closest I ever had to a true “gearing up” moment was when the Sugarbear Band was about to take the field at halftime during Central’s football games.

What must it be like to plunge one’s nerves below zero and perform on the field as an athlete — especially at the Major League level, where tens of thousands are taking in your performance each day? The pressure only grows when you consider the fact that hundreds of thousands more can instantly replay your performance, should they have missed it.

As the playoffs finish up and the summer heat bears down on Macon, I have watched postseason games with great interest. These thoughts about the starting lineup struck me as I watched Stratford’s boys soccer team take the field before their GIAA Class 4A semifinal match last week.

The Eagles had a massive roster — thanks, in part, to a large contingent of freshman and junior varsity players along for the playoff ride — which made the whole experience more cinematic.

The movie theater is where some of the greatest “gearing up” moments live. Think Neo and Trinity preparing to take down the agents in “The Matrix,” or Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt strapping up for their final encounter with a twisted killer in David Fincher’s thriller “Se7en.”

It may seem a bit far-fetched, but that’s how I feel when I watch the squads on the field run through the handshake line. I used to wish I could experience that as a kid, imitating it in my free time.

When those intros begin, you know you’ve made it. It’s game time, and there’s no turning back.