They’re Full of Character : Unique Gyms Gain Charm From Their Quirks, Flaws

It’s cramped, it’s steamy, fans’ knees are pressed into the backs of players sitting on the bench, not to mention the fans in front of them. There’s a four-sided scoreboard attached to the ceiling, but that seems to be the only concession to technology at The Dome.

Orange High School’s gym, a glorified Quonset hut built in 1952 and home of the Panthers, represents the best and worst of the high school gym.

No place in Orange County has more character and charm, and yet few facilities appear to be further behind the times.

Home-court advantage? Athletic Director Dave Zirkle says the place is worth about eight points a game for the boys’ basketball team, which plays in front of SRO crowds of 850.

There is so little room on the sideline that leggy fans in the front row often have their feet on the court. The question begs to be asked: Do you really have to be out of bounds to take the ball out of bounds? The answer: Officials seem to turn a blind eye.

Players driving hard to the basket for layups often find themselves hitting the baseline wall, which is about three feet beyond the court. That wall is only slightly more solid than the wave of heat that hits you as you enter the building. No matter the weather, here’s some advice: Always leave the sweater at home.

In 1989, the Los Angeles Herald Examiner named Orange as the Southland’s second-most difficult high school gym in which to play basketball; Pasadena Marshall’s gym, built in 1932 with a capacity of 180 and a court too small to use for the playoffs, was the worst.

Len Whitacre, who coaches the Villa Park girls’ basketball team, said Orange is the county’s absolute worst, then added, “I wish we played our games there.”

There are other gyms, too, which have flaws that make them unique. They should be recognized--the world can use a little character.

DUNGEONESQUE

What might have seemed like a good idea in 1963 seems just plain goofy today. Costa Mesa calls its front gymnasium “The Pit,” which is understandable, but the home of the Mustangs is really more like a petri dish.

“It feels like someone’s always looking over your shoulder,” Estancia girls’ basketball Coach Russ Davis said.

That’s because they are.

There are no bleachers that start on the floor. They begin atop the sideline walls, giving fans a bird’s-eye view of the action. And no one dares jump off the wall to rush the floor after an exciting victory or to join an on-court skirmish.

Recently, the boys’ team put some of its fans, the loudest, rowdiest ones, in folding chairs on the floor opposite the benches. “I went to the referee and asked him to move them back,” Century boys’ Coach Greg Coombs said. “During the JV game, they had their feet on the court.” But Coombs was impressed, and later did the same thing at his games.

Newport Harbor’s gym has U-shaped seating, and it rocks with a full house. Fans in the end zone bleachers, which also sit atop a wall, are directly behind the backboard, making it an ideal spot to distract opposing free-throw shooters.

READ THE CHART

The problems that players encounter in a Southern Section final usually involve shooting, because arenas with large open spaces behind the backboards affect depth perception.

Santa Ana Valley and Estancia, which has another basketball court perpendicular to its main court, have lots of room behind one backboard.

Foothill has a stage at one end of its court, which naturally creates some perception problems, and there are mirrors at the back of the stage. This makes it possible to actually watch yourself shoot--and miss.

IT’S NOT THE SHOES

If you’re 5 feet 6 but want to play taller, play at Laguna Beach, where it’s like walking on air. The locker rooms are directly under the gymnasium floor, and not only do you get a hollow sound when you’re dribbling, but you also get more spring in your step.

A PINE TIME TO FIDGET

This has nothing to do with what takes place on the floor, and it’s purely subjective, but it can make all the difference in the world when a game goes into double overtime.

The bleachers. Which ones have really hard wood?

The writers in the office point to El Toro. “The hardest benches I’ve ever encountered,” said one.

Ocean View wasn’t popular, either: “One half and my lower back--and my butt--were sore.”

Kennedy’s, too, will make you squirm.

“C’mon,” said another writer, looking oddly at the questioner, “wood is wood.”

Maybe. But not all sports writers are without feeling.

GYM DANDY TO THE RESCUE

How’s this for a sweet deal: You have a small campus gymnasium and draw so many fans that you play your games in one of the best facilities around-- off campus. Mater Dei’s boys, ranked 15th nationally, play their home games in the Bren Center at UC Irvine. The Monarchs, besides being more talented than everyone else around, are used to shooting there and don’t have the perception problem of visiting teams.

Almost as good is Brethren Christian’s setup--for the boys, anyway. Because the Warriors’ new off-campus gym in a Cypress warehouse won’t be finished until summer, they still practice at their abandoned campus in Paramount but play their games at Biola University and Cypress College.

PICK YOUR SURFACE

The Brethren Christian girls don’t have it as good as the boys. Although the Warriors play at least half their games at Downey Calvary Chapel’s new structure, and the others are split between Western and Cypress, the practices require a road map. When they practice at Cypress Evangelical Free Church, they work out on a hard rubber floor; when they practice at Lakewood’s Life Community Church and Bellflower’s Calvary Baptist Church, they practice on carpet.

They lead the county in rug burns.

ONE-SIDED LOVE AFFAIR

University can put people on four sides of the court, and Newport Harbor can put people on three, but what’s really bothersome are the gyms that have fans on only one side of the court. This is the case at Tustin, Mater Dei and Rosary. There’s something goofy about sitting in the stands--next to the opposing team’s fans--and looking at a stage on the other side of the court.

Say this about Rosary, though: The gym is the right size for the school, and its restrooms are clean enough to pass Marine inspection.

PSYCH JOB

Corona del Mar and Santa Ana have NBA regulation-length courts--94 feet--and that makes athletes think. The basket might be only 10 feet high, but running an extra five or 10 feet up the floor takes a toll over the course of a game. Ever drive your car and know you don’t have enough gas to make it home?

Century’s court is shorter, but its gym resonates with NBA-style noise. This is the story as girls’ basketball Coach Jeff Watts tells it: “They were supposedly going to spray an acoustic cover on the ceiling, but they didn’t, so it’s a metal top with cement walls. It’s extremely noisy.”

It’s difficult while playing, difficult during timeouts, difficult during practice, when three courts are in use. It’s so loud, the boys’ coaching staff uses signs to communicate to its players.

Now you know why it’s called the Thunder Dome.

Orange and Century feature a four-sided scoreboard hanging over midcourt. Players aren’t used to looking there for basic information--like how much time is left in the game. At Century, it hangs low, creating havoc with long passes and volleyball matches.

MORE MACARONI AND CHEESE?

Opposing varsity boys’ teams--and half the opposing girls’ teams--won’t play games on campus at Capistrano Valley Christian because they contend it’s unsafe for the speed, quickness and athleticism of the players. See, the floor is tile, which is perfect for its daytime use.

Said Brethren Christian Athletic Director Robin Davis: “It’s a nice gym--for a cafeteria. “