These Players Hoop It Up for Their <i> Pueblos</i>

They’ll never be confused with the likes of Magic Johnson or Larry Bird.

Their teams, from towns with names such as Xochixtepec, Cuajimoloya and Tehuantepec, will never be considered for an NBA franchise.

In fact, only a handful of these men--all of whom are descendants of Mixtec and Zapotec Indians from the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca--stand above 5-feet-5.

But no one ever played a game of basketball with more intensity than the 200 Oaxaquenos who gathered Sunday on the outdoor courts of the Normandie Recreation Center to carry on a tradition of village competition that began centuries ago in their homeland.

Each of the 36 teams that participated in the all-day tournament represented a tiny community from the mountains of Oaxaca, where craggy peaks and steep valleys leave no room for the playing of the country’s national pastime, soccer.

So, like their ancestors, whose ancient ceremonies included a game of tossing rubber wads through a stone ring, they turned to basketball. As children, they played in Mexico with backboardless rims nailed to pine trees. When they immigrated to the United States, it was the only sport they knew.

“We take this very seriously,” said Rudolfo Rivas, originally of Yatzachi El Bajo, who at 45 is one of the veterans on the court. “We play for pride. Each time we go out there, we’re defending the name of our hometowns.”

A few guys who couldn’t have been an inch over 5-feet were able to carve up the defense and fly twisting to the basket. The ball, however, only dropped through the hoop about half the time.

At 5-feet-10, Hector Valente was one of the monsters on the court. The 22-year-old driver for a rent-a-car company pulled down rebounds that had more diminutive players craning their necks upwards to see.

“It’s all the vitamins we have here,” explained Valente, a second-generation competitor, born in Los Angeles. “They can’t hang with me.”

Each team of five gets two chances to play a 15-minute game, with the winners advancing to the next round. The rules are the same as professional basketball, although the referees let a lot of sloppy play slide by. Scores average around 60 or 70 points per team.

“You can’t have a referee who knows all the rules,” said Julian Salvador, 32, whose band, “Triangulo,” plays pop music at the postgame fiestas. “Otherwise, they’d be calling fouls all the time.”

Sometimes the team name is stenciled on authentic uniforms, such as those of the Xochitepec players, who wore yellow and purple jerseys modeled after the Los Angeles Lakers. Other times, cut-offs and a T-shirt, with the player’s number scrawled in ink on back, suffice.

Anybody who wants can pick up the bullhorn and do play-by-play commentary. Plates of sliced oranges are offered as refreshments. The El Paisano (The Countryman) catering truck is usually there selling regional delicacies, such as tamales and champurrado , a chocolate and corn gruel. And a few young teen-age cheerleaders giggle at the sidelines.

“It really doesn’t matter if you’re any good,” said Marisela Hernandez, 18, who had several cousins playing on the Xochixtepec team Sunday. “It’s just exciting to watch.”

It’s something that occurs almost every weekend in the Oaxacan community, which is scattered in small pockets throughout Los Angeles County. Each tournament usually corresponds to the annual fiesta of one of their villages and is sponsored by leaders of that town.

Sunday’s competition, which will continue the next two weekends, honors the patron saints of Yatzachi El Alto, an agricultural community of 60 in the Sierra Juarez mountains. Money raised at the end of the tournament from a giant dinner and dance, with tacos, beer and folkloric music, will be sent to the town to help finish construction of a new City Hall.

“That’s really our goal,” said Renato Dominguez, 48, athletic chairman of Corporacion Yatzachi El Alto, which is sponsoring the competition. “We’re here to help our pueblos .”