The RoundHouse | 12/13/2018 6:30:00 AM

Gene Stephenson scoffs at the idea he possesses a handshake technique. That would imply an agenda behind a gesture he sees as simple and straight-forward.
 
"You shake hands with a guy and you let him know you're alive," he said. "You're glad to meet this person. That's the way I do it."
 
The notion is more complicated for those on the receiving end of Stephenson's gesture, a grip that entertained and terrorized college baseball for years. The word "crushing" is often used, followed by "bear paws" and "meat hooks" by the victims.
 
Yes, the handshake of Gene Stephenson was a thing during his tenure as Wichita State baseball coach, feared, watched and strategized against in his own dugout and around the Missouri Valley Conference. 
 
"You go shake his hand, and he tries to crush you," said former Shocker infielder Kevin Hooper. "He has a fun game with that, and that's just his mentality."
 
Stephenson, Wichita State's baseball coach from 1978-2013, describes the grip as a habit and not worth much more discussion. Those who had to shake hands with Stephenson describe the moment differently. 
 
They spend the rest of their lives preparing for the next meeting.
 
"Everybody from his team would be watching, to see if he got you or not," said former Northern Iowa coach Rick Heller. "They said – 'Be ready at the handshake.' I was, but it didn't work. Even now, when I see him I make damn sure I get in there deep."
 
The Stephenson handshake fits in with Shocker baseball reputation and aura. He built a national power with a physical and mental edge created through years of winning and smart baseball. At their best, his Shockers possessed an edge, a swagger, a look that fed into their dominance.

This weekend, Stephenson joins the Pizza Hut Shocker Sports Hall of Fame as the sole member of the 2019 class. 
 
The induction celebrates his 1989 College World Series title, seven trips to Omaha, the 54 Shocker All-Americans and his 1,768-673-3 record over 36 seasons.
 
It also celebrates the way he did it, starting with winning the moments before the game.
 
"In regard to Gene trying to break my hand at each home-plate meeting, it was the first effort of the day to intimidate, so naturally I took up the hand-squeezing challenge, but usually lost," former Bradley coach Dewey Kalmer said in an email. "Gene was always stronger, and so were his teams."
 
Heller remembers Stephenson appearing to catch him off-guard after a practice session for the MVC Tournament. Unprepared, Heller took a crushing. Former Northern Iowa assistant Dan Davis remembers watching Stephenson load up for the shake 90 feet away.
 
Some MVC coaches delighted in sending unsuspecting freshmen to exchange lineup cards with Stephenson during a weekend series. 
 
"Seeing a little freshman go out there, and just all of a sudden you'd see his elbow turn and he dips his shoulder down and it's 'Oh man, I didn't expect that,'" said former Shocker outfielder Ryan Jones. 
 
Missouri State's Keith Guttin coached against Stephenson in the MVC from 1991-2013. Their meetings at home plate often preceded a game between the Valley's top two teams.
 
"I can still feel it in the palm of my hand right now," Guttin said. "You knew you were going to get his best and it was going to be strong. You had to position yourself where you weren't going to get crushed. Try to get in there early and give some back."
 
Former Shockers describe watching Stephenson prepare, knowing the eyes in the dugout watched and knowing they expected him to deliver.
 
"Gene always wanted to win the handshake with the opposing coach," said former first baseman Jason White. "He would come back to the dugout or our huddle . . . and say "I got him again, boys." That would pump us up for the game."
 
Some of this registers with Stephenson, who admits he knew a bit of the lore surrounding his handshake. He remembers returning to the dugout after the lineup exchange and letting the Shockers know he won the handshake.
 
"Nobody ever made a big deal of it to me," he said. "It's just a habit."
 
The handshake, he maintains, is not something he thought much about.
 
"I grew up in Guthrie Okla.," he said. "My dad and everybody I ever came in contact with said 'You've got to have a firm handshake.' You've got to be a guy where people recognize you're alive, not dead."
 
Those crushed by Stephenson's hand describe his technique of being the aggressor and grabbing his victim's fingers before they could reach his palm. He gained the leverage and his strength – the hands that made him a feared hitter at the University of Missouri - did the rest.
 
"He would cut your handshake off so that your fingers were in his grip, and he would just squeeze," Heller said. "He got me one time, the first time. After that it was like a gun fight - you had to be prepared to get in deep."
 
 Former Shocker infielder Billy Hall refused to let Stephenson work on his hand. His handshake bugs Stephenson to this day, Hall claims.
 
"Because I would never, ever succumb to what he did," Hall said. "He loves to get his hand deep in, and once he did that you're done. I would always give him half of my hand. Because he couldn't grip it hard, he wouldn't shake my hand like anybody else's."
 
If you see Stephenson this weekend, congratulate him on his vision for Shocker baseball and college baseball, his Academic All-Americans and his induction into the hall of fame. And be prepared when he reaches out to shake your hand.
 
Paul Suellentrop covers Wichita State Athletics and the American Athletic Conference for university Strategic Communications. Contact him at paul.suellentrop@wichita.edu.