Boccie--Retirees’ Old Ballgame : Traditions: Twelve couples built a boccie ball court near their Oxnard Shores apartments years ago. It’s still in use, despite the players’ increasing health problems.

Twenty-eight years ago, when rabbits still roamed vacant oceanfront lots, Frank and Eva Crosetti and three other couples came to Oxnard Shores in search of a place to retire.

They hoped to share sea breezes and one another’s company as they grew old. Before long, the four couples had grown to 12. All were Italian-Americans from the Los Angeles area.

They built 12 apartments in a U-shape on two lots and called it Villa Anacapa. On the vacant lot next door, they built a boccie (also spelled bocce) ball court.

It was there that they would play the ancient Roman game they had learned as youngsters. They would roll large wooden balls on a long gravel court, scoring points for their skill at knocking opponents’ balls away from a tiny ballino while staying close to it themselves.

The players would gamble a little and argue a lot. They’d sip wine and celebrate the day. Over the years, they became an institution in Oxnard Shores.

“Everybody was young then. They’d drink and have tournaments. Now they’re too old to drink,” says Rosalie Emanuel, who with her husband, James, owns one of the units.

But even today, when the weather is good and spirits are high, the men, ranging in age from 66 to 85, still play.

“They are rowdy,” says young neighbor Jeff Fried, who often joins the game.

Marianne Romo, who lives across Driftwood Street from the court, says: “We can hear them out there even with our windows closed. They bet and they argue. I think it’s wonderful.”

One recent day six old bowlers were on the court, leaning low to flip green or brown boccie balls off their finger tips. Their target was the small ball 90 feet away.

One bowler rolls short of the mark. Nick Bucci, 83, known for his extraordinary stroke but sidelined with a heart attack, grunts in disgust: “Come on you guys. Don’t you know the game?”

Domenico Pesce, or Dominic Fish, 83, responds with a roll that is true: “Come in there, come in there. Yeah. Yeah.”

Then Pesce, who is wearing his official boccie team shirt, apologizes for his lack of intensity. If Charlie Dragna and Joe Maestro were here, he says, then “it would be a good game. They do bet on the side.”

Sometimes a wife will join in too, the men say. But, as 77-year-old Frank Crosetti whispers when his big sister, Lina Del George, is out of earshot: “It’s a man’s game. It’s only recently that we let the ladies play.”

The men and Del George bowl for less than an hour. The day is gray and overcast. They promise that they will be back when it is warmer.

But these days such promises carry less certainty than they once did.

Health problems increase. Builders want to buy the boccie lot. And some of the owners are thinking about selling. It cost them $12,500. Now it’s worth $400,000, says an area real estate broker.

“We’ll sell it one day,” Frank Crosetti says.

But for now, adds his sister, Del George: “We have to keep it for the sake of the men. It’s something for them to do.”