By Kyle Tucker

Funny thing, sand soccer.

Funnier thing, the North American Sand Soccer Championships, the world's largest tournament of its kind.

Those who play the sport and those among the 618 teams and 6,000-plus athletes here this weekend for the tournament are widely varied in age and experience.

Some, like the children trying the odd-looking game for the first time, kick sand eye-high, bog down in the beach and stub their bare toes on the packed surface.

Others, like the Pro-Am players here to compete for $15,000 in the men's U.S. Open, glide over the sand and scoop the ball effortlessly from the ground, barely disturbing the grains beneath.

The funny thing about it all, though, is that when the whistle blows, whether they're 5 or 50, novice or national team member, the game gets serious.

Fabio Oliveira is a 26-year-old Brazilian native. In his home country, sand soccer is almost as old and as popular as traditional futbol.

He and several of his countrymen make up the Miami-based Pro-Am club, Flamilia, who have played together since 1996 and are the defending U.S. Open champions. This game, this event, is no gimmick to them.

"We don't come here just for fun," Oliveira said. "We come for work. We practice three months before to come here and win this. We get off work at 5 and practice until 9."

It shows.

Around 1:30 Saturday afternoon, Oliveira was busy helping his team advance to today's semifinals. En route to an 8-3 trouncing of Virginia Beach United, Oliveira dazzled the crowd at the 7th Street stadium erected especially to showcase national and international talent like his.

Oliveira's footwork was mesmerizing as he stopped the ball in the sand, danced around it, hitched his shoulders and faked his head, sending defenders backpedaling or freezing them altogether. Three times he worked that trick, losing his man and firing past the keeper.

Handling a soccer ball like a shifty point guard does a basketball, Oliveira drew some gasps from the crowd with his jukes. The biggest, though, came from a pass.

In the corner late in the game, Oliveira scooped the ball up and cradled it on his right foot. He swayed it back and forth in front of the defender ? who rocked side to side, surely wondering what was next. And then, with one flick of his toes, Oliveira lofted it over his man and out in front of the goal.

Teammate Benny Astorga leaped into the air and propelled his feet above his head, clubbing the ball at its apex and rocketing it into the net. The bicycle kick, tough on turf, landed in the sand.

These guys are serious. But they're not alone.

At roughly the same time Oliveria and Co. were starring on center stage, down the beach a bit, around 12th Street, Danieall Irving was in a shoving match. The 11-year-old from Moyock pushed an opposing player into the sand.

Never mind that this is her first time trying sand soccer. She would take no prisoners. Neither would the victim of Irving's shove, though.

"She came back at me and she bit me," Irving said.

A foot stomp or two also followed.

Irving limped around after the game. She bandaged her middle finger, too, trying to cover a pair of shallow wounds left by braces-covered teeth.

"It's an aggressive sport," Irving's mother, Beth-Anne, said.

It is, indeed.

Ask Rick Lett, a 42-year-old playing for the Beach Texaco team from Virginia Beach in the men's open division. He's no pro. He's a businessman who got hooked on this unconventional brand of soccer while playing the old-school style on an over-30 team eight years ago. He's a goalie with a gut. He'll go back to work Monday, not the beach soccer circuit.

But he's no slouch, either.

"It gets competitive," Lett said. "We've all got some age on us, but last year we played some kids out here and they were shocked at what we could do. When the ball's on the line, we get after it."

Funny thing, sand soccer.