THE WRITING ON (AND OFF) THE WALL A TOSSUP BETWEEN SKILL AND PURE LUCK.

Byline: TOM HOFFARTH

Somewhere in the penal codes and bylaws that govern our population, there are a bunch of vague rules and murky penalties about gambling on public property, defacing government currency and loitering.

Which is why our moms and school teachers and local police officers always tried to drill it through our heads that pitching quarters against a wall with your buddies while waiting for fifth-period lunch to end would not only get us a ticket to the principal's office but force them to put all kinds of bad things on our permanent record.

We laughed at them and did it anyway. Sorry, but defying authority was all part of the game.

Which leads us to the Association of Professional Tossers.

No more hiding in the bushes from the law. Here, the game is a regular, full-on competition. And it's all legit.

Colored tokens replace coins. Prize money and trophies mean there's no winner-takes-all off the sidewalk. Moms and dads compete alongside their kids and neighbors. And a Sheriff's Department officer stands by, not just for hired crowd control but to assure everyone this isn't some kind of a scam.

The organization's logo even goes so far to look a lot like Major League Baseball, with the blue and red sandwiched around the white silhouette of a guy down in a crouch with his arm extended and a coin flipping out of his hand.

That guy on the logo, Gaston Wurth of Sherman Oaks, was standing in the parking lot at Pierce College on Saturday morning, upbeat despite the fact that the incessant rain forced him to postpone his latest tournament until early March. A half-dozen of his Topanga Beach surfing buddies showed up anyway to see if they could talk him into putting up the $1,000 first-place check just for them.

To Wurth, a 36-year-old native of Chile who went to Grant High of Van Nuys and considers himself one of the best tossers around, it's all worth the effort to start changing skeptical attitudes about the activity's shady past and convert more into considering it a legitimate social pastime that fosters healthy camaraderie as well as clean competition involving luck as well as skill.

``This has been part of American history since people came here from Europe, and thousands of years before that, and now, this is history in the making,'' said Wurth, whose daily job as a movie, TV and commercial set decorator also manages to get him into the credits as a transportation guy or stand-in - or even some camera time, as he played the role of Baltimore Orioles pitcher Milt Pappas in a key scene of the Billy Crystal movie, ``61.''

``There's a gambling background and some may be scared off. I realize that's my biggest obstacle. Without question, this isn't gambling. Andas people see how this works, I want it to be known as a sport that takes tremendous skill and finesse, like darts or pool or even basketball.''

The idea for his own pro tossing tour came to him from watching and competing in local surfing events. He and his friends would pass the time at the beach waiting for the surf to come up by playing quarters, developing a technique to holding the coin between the forefinger and thumb and flipping if like a Frisbee with the idea of getting it to lean up against the curb.

Every country and culture has a different name for it with slightly different rules. About a year ago, Wurth came up with his own guidelines and scoring system, found some sponsors, put up a Web site (www.protossers.com), created his own quarter-sized tossing tokens and threw in the prize money, partially financed by $20 entry fees and $10 annual APT memberships.

Contestants starting from 11-years-old and up have come from as far as Santa Cruz for the competitions, which have been scattered around Southern California and this year includes a stop in New York, where Wurth really expects things to take off.

At last month's Pierce College competition, Greg Delger of North Hollywood showed up only because a friend wanted to compete, but he ended up entering and won the whole thing. Delger was so appreciative he gave $400 of the winnings to runner-up Richard Matteson of Hueneme Beach and another $100 to his friend.

``It was such a rush, like a great car race going back and forth,'' said Delger, who works with at-risk children in Hollywood. ``I couldn't believe I won it. It was like hitting a winning 3-point shot.''

By this summer, Wurth expects to be able to add live bands, bleacher seating and a bigger scoreboard. All of which will be something to look back on if his ultimate goal of someday making this - he's not kidding - and Olympic sport comes true.

Local IOC officials have already told him that if he can prove tossing is an event played in 75 countries on four continents - which the Olympic charter rules stipulate - his sport will be considered.

``That's not only reachable, but I know they play it all over the world already,'' Wurth said. ``That's a legitimate goal for me.''

And you're going to curb his enthusiasm by telling him he's crazy? Don't toss it aside so quickly.

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Photo:

Gaston Wurth of Sherman Oaks is hoping tossing will become more popular and eventually become an Olympic sport.

Joe Binoya/Special to the Daily News