Schoolyard Players Enjoy Victories of Many Kinds : Recreation: At Rio Mesa High, handball is defusing tension, keeping youths out of trouble and boosting self-confidence.

The lunch bell rang at Rio Mesa High School and 16-year-old Efraim Gamez headed in the opposite direction from the school cafeteria.

After stuffing his books in his locker, he went straight to the concrete yard next to the gym, pulling from his pocket the small, blue hard-rubber ball he carries with him.

Efraim joined about 50 other boys, who play in groups of two or four, using the palms of their hands to slam balls onto the outside gym walls, opting for the fast-paced games instead of lunch.

“I never eat, never get hungry,” Efraim said. “I love handball.”

Rio Mesa began its lunchtime handball games in 1991 with a twofold aim: to ease tensions between Latino youths from the La Colonia and El Rio neighborhoods and bring Latino and white students together.

The school accomplished one of its goals.

Among the 200 youths who join the handball games that are held during the school’s two lunch periods three days per week, Efraim and other El Rio boys play side-by-side with youths from across the Ventura Freeway in La Colonia.

The number of fights, incidents of gang graffiti and other signs of the rivalry between the two neighborhoods has declined since the handball games began two years ago, school officials said.

“It just gives them an outlet,” said Assistant Principal Jim Nielsen.

Efraim agreed: “People when they play handball want to leave the violence.”

But barely any Anglo students venture onto the handball courts.

Of the 2,200 students at Rio Mesa, Latinos account for 61% and whites 29%.

Although many Latino handball players say they welcome anyone to join their lunchtime games, some say they take a special pride that this is their sport.

“If you lose to a white guy,” 15-year-old Jason Montoya said, “they’ll make fun of you: ‘Oh, you lost to a gringo!’ ”

For their part, some white students who were on the handball court during one lunch period last week said they are less serious about the game than the mainly Latino players who compete in the monthly championship games.

“I just play for fun,” 15-year-old Raymond Dearman said. “I never play in the tournaments.”

Raymond said he began playing handball when he lived in Barstow. At Rio Mesa he prefers the handball court to hanging out in the yard near the cafeteria with other white students. “They just sit there and talk,” he said. “It’s boring.”

Some students say the voluntary segregation on the handball courts mirrors the divisions in the student body.

“White students together, Mexicans together,” said 14-year-old Shawn Ellis, who is white. “They don’t, like, say nothing.”

Although school officials acknowledge that the handball games have failed to bring the two groups together, they say that Latinos’ domination of the sport is more a reflection of cultural differences than racial tensions.

“It’s just an interest that many of these kids have,” said Assistant Principal Ed Phillips, who helps supervise the lunchtime sport. “And this is a way to provide something they do in their own neighborhoods.”

Seeing that handball has only limited appeal, Nielsen began this fall to offer lunchtime sessions in the weight room, where dozens of boys of all ethnic backgrounds pump iron and spar with punching bags.

The weight room reverberates with the clanks of metal weights and the staccato riffs of speed bags. But outside on the handball court the silence is punctuated only by the repeated thumps of slammed balls and the occasional call of Changa!, or game point.

Handball, said Nielsen, succeeds not only in defusing tensions and keeping the players out of trouble during lunch, but also in boosting the boys’ self-confidence.

Teachers regularly announce the names of tournament winners in class, their peers recognize them at school assemblies and Rio Mesa officials give the champions plaques that are made up at school expense.

Gilbert Gallegos is a C student, but on the handball court he’s a man to be reckoned with.

When the school began holding the handball games two years ago, Gilbert began practicing every day. Last year he was school champion and this week the hulking 17-year-old senior is again a tournament finalist.

“No one can beat him,” sophomore Johnny Rodriguez said as Gilbert began warming up on the court. “He’s undefeated still.”

Another boy on the sidelines, who earlier said he doesn’t play much handball, refused to act impressed.

“He’s the second-best,” the boy said, laughing. “I’m the best.”