Young Garrett Gurthie stands behind the tee of the first hole at Gainesville's Northside Park, clutching a thin disc resembling a Frisbee in his right hand.

A quick shuffle of his feet, a few rapid steps forward, and he furiously spins his arm around his body, sailing the disc smoothly through the air toward a metal basket 343 feet away. The disc lands 30 feet short, and Garrett, 13, looks pleased.

"Not bad for a little fella," says his father, Howard Gurthie. "And that was a wimpy throw, too. They're just warming up."

Garrett picks up a backpack full of brightly colored discs and slings it onto his back. He moves out of the way and his three older brothers, standing behind him with discs in hand, peer down the course at the basket in serious concentration.

The Gurthie family is warming up before a local disc golf tournament at Northside Park, where they practice every weekend between trips to other professional disc golf tournaments around the country.

"Disc golf is just like regular golf, but without the balls, clubs and green fees," says Howard, who has been playing the sport for more than 20 years. Begun in California in 1972, disc golf has since gained popularity throughout the world, and now boasts more than 24,000 players registered with the Professional Disc Golf Association.

"And that's not counting the other thousands of people who love to play just for fun," says Alex Gurthie, 14. "The sport's still growin'."

All five Gurthie children were introduced to the sport at birth, their father says. Ben, 18, Evan, 16, and Garrett, 13, play professionally. Alex, 14, competes in amateur competitions, while Howard's daughter Virginia, 10, says she likes to play "just for fun."

"They were teething on my Frisbees when they were younger, breaking their teeth in on my discs," Howard proudly recalls. "I used to think there was a rat in the house because of all the teeth marks all over 'em. In the car, they'd be sitting in the back in the baby seat just chewing on the discs."

And now, many years later, the Gurthie family has made a name for itself on the national disc golf touring circuit.

"Everybody in the disc golf world knows the Gurthies, and if they don't, they're probably pretty new to the sport," Howard says.

"We have a lot of friends all over the place," Ben chimes in. "We probably know someone in every state who plays the sport, so we always have a place to stay for tournaments."

Howard estimates the boys have competed in at least 150 tournaments nationwide, which means the family travels many weekends. Although entry fees can get expensive, Howard he tries to make sure they can play in as many big tournaments as possible.

"Whether it be by me renting a van and spending my week of vacation taking a road trip to Michigan or hitching rides with friends, we get there," he says, noting that it is difficult to take much time off work to travel out of state. "But when it comes to local stuff, I'm known as 'Taxi Dad.' Getting 'em there to show off their stuff, that's what it's all about for me."

While the boys are traveling to new courses, Virginia often stays home to "play nurse" for her mother, Ruth, who has been recently plagued with health problems.

"I don't mind staying home," says Virginia, cradling a large cat named Rascal in her arms. "I like to play, but I'm not as into it as the boys are."

Making ends meet The Gurthies live near Northside Park, in government-subsidized housing. During the summer, the children walk to the park and spend their days tossing discs, working on the accuracy of their throws and the strength of their arms.

They usually stay at the park from the time they wake up until it gets dark, coming home only when they get hungry. When in school, they typically play on weekends, no matter how rainy or cold it is.

After growing up on a boy's ranch and then serving in the U.S. Navy, Howard frequently came to Northside Park, where he eventually met his wife. Earning $12 an hour installing building insulation, he says it's tough to make ends meet while trying to support a family of seven.

"If they aren't playing disc golf, they're playing basketball or football over at the elementary school," he says. "And the neighborhood kids have nicknames for all of 'em.

"They call me 'Milkdud,' " says Alex, who's wearing a a disc golf T-shirt that reads "No Wimps, No Whiners."

"And they call me 'White Chocolate,' " Ben adds with a chuckle.

Even though the traveling expenses and tournament entry fees can be costly, the boys usually manage to break even with their winnings at professional tournaments. Overall, they've won more than $3,000, which they use to enter themselves in other tournaments.

"With their ability to play, it helps out with their entries, and they also use that to help out around here," Howard says.

Garrett first cashed in a professional event after his last birthday, making him one of the youngest pro players in the country.

"They work hard, and I'm real proud of them," says Howard as he walks behind his family on the course, watching the throws carefully and shouting words of encouragement after each one. "We aren't a rich family, but we're rich at heart." It's how you play the game The ground is blanketed with pine needles and dried leaves, dotted with patches of sunlight shining through the branches above. Clusters of pines and palmettos surround each fairway.

Evan quietly walks up to the cement slab that serves as the tee and, with a sudden movement, furiously snaps his arm around. The disc slices silently through the wind at a remarkable speed and flies past the intended target.

"Evan can really crank it," Ben says. "He's got the farthest throw and shot in Florida."

Evan smiles shyly, apparently pleased with his throw. Now it's Ben's turn.

"Ben is probably the best player of 'em all," Howard whispers, trying not to distract his son.

Ben's shot flies off course, and hits a tree halfway down the fairway. Without saying a word, he shakes his head and walks toward the disc, visibly confused about what went wrong.

"He gets frustrated when things don't go right," Howard says. "He knows he's such a high-caliber player that he expects himself to make each and every shot."

The boys exchange lively banter and words of advice between holes. Garrett stops on a patch of sand to trace his initials, "GG," with his foot.

"Marking my territory," he says mischievously, his freckles more visible against his cheeks. His pants bunch at his ankles, too long for his shorter height; his backpack half as big as his frame.

Alex is left-handed like his father and has a harder time hitting the basket.

"It's all about follow-through and rhythm," Ben advises before taking his next shot. "You gotta keep a steady beat with your throws. You also gotta know how to get out of tough situations."

He soon demonstrates his own advice when shooting around an island of trees to make it to the basket.

The boys are often known to give away discs to people just starting to play the sport, to give them something to practice with.

When family friend John Gardner became interested in learning about disc golf, each of the boys gave him a few discs so he could play on the course.

"They immediately said, 'Wait here, we'll get some discs from the house for ya,' " Gardner recalls. "Within minutes, I had a whole starter kit, complete with putters and drivers. It's just the way they are; they like to help out."

The Gainesville Disc Golf Club, which boasts a membership of more than 50, also rallies around a good cause.

This year, the club donated $690 to the St. Francis House, along with 200 pounds of food and many articles of clothing. A portion of the money raised from weekly tournaments is also given to charity.

The club also takes part in "Keep Alachua County Beautiful" by maintaining the disc golf course throughout the year.

"We probably do more for this course than the average person does for their own home," says Shawn Harrigan, a board member of the Gainesville Disc Golf Club.

"There's a lot of camaraderie within this sport; it's like a big family," he says. "I've known the Gurthie kids all their lives. They've become great golfers and great people."

Above and beyond Fifteen local players chat about the day's tournament around a fire burning on the grill. The sun is setting over the course while Alex tapes a small glow stick to the top of his disk.

They are getting ready to play "Nite Golf," a game the club plays during the cooler months when the early darkness shortens their time on the course. With glow sticks on the discs and in the basket so the players can see, the Frisbees resemble small UFOs soaring swiftly through the shadows.

"It's just another way we can utilize the course and get more practice," Howard says. "It's so much fun."

The Nite Golf games are mainly a way to raise money for the Gator Country Classic, this weekend's annual tournament, which is consistently one of the top 25 tournaments in the country.

The classic is one of 20 stops throughout the state as part of the Fabulous Florida Tour, in which each of the boys typically places highly.

The Gurthies try to spread the word about disc golf as often as they can, taking their own basket and discs to the springs and other parks on family outings.

"Some people think the basket is some kind of a weird grill or giant birdfeeder," Howard says laughing. "People will come to us and ask us what we're doing, then they try it and get hooked."

Meantime, the final match of the day has ended, and the Gurthies collect their equipment before heading home. The course won't be rid of them for long, however. The boys will be back at the park the next morning, ready to play again.