In good hands on the court

I’d always been intrigued by the early evening handball games near the Venice Beach pavilion. But I’m a shy rookie when it comes to learning new sports, so I’d never made the switch from spectator to player.

As I watched one recent evening, players swung hands at the ball with the authority of someone holding a sturdy tennis racquet. They danced out of the way as their shots careened off the back and side walls of the concrete courts. They laughed when someone messed up. There were occasional brief arguments, but mostly just smiles.

Among the players were fathers with young sons and athletes whose physiques ranged from portly to perfectly cut. Actor Ed O’Neill, best known as Al Bundy from the “Married ... with Children” sitcom, is often seen at the Venice courts, just another enthusiast looking to get a game. Women play here too, but there were none on this day.

I was thinking about trying to get a game too, but I quickly realized that I was out of my league. As the sun set and it grew darker, players put on team jackets and left. Determined to learn the game and test its capacity to deliver a good workout, I headed a few days later to the downtown Los Angeles Athletic Club. Many of the well-known athletes who were members of the club have had to prove themselves on the handball courts, which were in use even before the current clubhouse was completed in 1912.

I waited for my teacher George Guevara as he and Wafe Risner lost a match to regulars Orlando Lee and Arthur Kazanjian. The foursome’s average age was well past 60 and they counted more than 100 years of handball experience among them.

The indoor, four-walled game these guys play each week is a sweatier version of the open-air courts at Venice. The closer quarters make high-impact safety goggles a necessity to keep sweat from your eyes in the heat of battle.

Risner, who is 93 and plays once a week, wisely prepares for handball with an extensive round of stretching and a dip in the Jacuzzi. For the rest of us, the recommended warm-up is similar to court sports, with ankle and wrist rotations to avoid injuries.

When Guevara began the lesson in earnest, the focus was on toughening my hands and testing my ambidexterity. I alternated left- and right-hand hits from just a few feet away. Then I tried returning a few of his serves.

“Wait! Wait! ... Now hit it! ... Ha! Ha!” There seemed to be an echo, but actually it was Guevara responding as I routinely swung for the ball, hitting it weakly -- or missing entirely. When I missed the ball my shoulder hurt because of the wild follow-through that resulted. The gloves I wore didn’t take the sting out of striking the hard ball, which is a bit smaller than a racquetball.

I left the court looking at my hands in dismay. Lee pulled me aside and told me that he almost quit playing handball because of bone bruises in his palms -- a painful problem that persisted even when he wore padded gloves. It didn’t help that some other players teased him for being soft. He took some time off from the sport, he said, and eventually the discomfort eased.

Risner learned the game in Ireland in the 1940s. “As soon as I arrived anywhere, that’s the most important thing I could do, find a handball game,” said Risner, adding that the sessions with Guevara “have put 20 years on my life.”

Later, I was paired with Risner in a match against Guevara, who was hitting the ball only with his feet as a handicap considering the weakness of his opposition. Even then, Guevara held the two of us to a couple points in a game to 21. We switched to a harder small ball, and it was like hammering nails with my fists. My pulse hit 170 and no doubt would have gone higher had I been any good.

With renewed confidence after my lesson, I wanted to see if my new skills would be enough to get a game in Venice. The regulars want to know if it’s worth their time to beat you, I was told.

When I returned to the Venice courts, I soon realized that the pace of the games was fast compared with my experience at the club and that the difficulty increased due to the lack of a back wall.

It looked like I wouldn’t get a game right away, but at last I met Reginald Davis as he waited for his partner to show up. He ran me through drills that echoed Guevara’s teaching, with a dash of philosophy tossed in.

“Relax. RE-lax! You are master of the ball. Let the ball come to you,” he said. Davis, like some of the other players to whom I spoke, seemed to revel in the idea of joining handball games all over the world. He told me to come back another time, and I would be sure to find a good match. Then his partner arrived and my lesson was over.

But my interest in handball isn’t satisfied. Now I want to raise my skills to a level that will make me acceptable competition for the regulars of Venice Beach. I guess I like the glint in the eyes of the players as they describe their love of the game and its simplicity -- just players, some walls and a ball.

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The Southern California Handball Assn. (www.handball.org) can help you locate a partner of equal ability and has a listing of locations throughout the region where you can play.