Sixteen-year-old Troy Stone nodded vigorously and flashed back a sign, then headed back on the court to the drum-beating, hooting, foot-pounding, horn-blowing encouragement of fans painted turquoise and yellow.

Among them was sophomore cheerleader Amanda Garcia, reaching to the gym ceiling with a crossed-finger symbol that means "Roadrunners" in American Sign Language.

This cacophonous sports moment at Phoenix Day School for the Deaf was brought to you by the Western States Basketball Classic, a high school tournament where players can't hear the whistle and cheerleaders let their fingers do the chanting.

The annual event, now in its 30th year, concludes with championship games tonight. Teams from as far away as Washington state converge for an event that mixes intense competition with a cultural exchange among the non-hearing, all of whom stay at a single hotel.

The two youngsters from Phoenix Day are good examples.

"I think it's more exciting to play against other deaf schools," Troy said. "Not only because we all speak the same language and communication is more clear, but because after the game, we have a chance to socialize and meet new people."

Amanda's take: "The most important thing is to have fun . . . and win."

Troy is one of three deaf children born to Jeff and Deb Stone of Gilbert, who also are deaf along with his grandmother and a great-grandparent. He can hear a balloon pop or someone scream in his ear, but his genetic inheritance doesn't allow lesser noises to get through.

Athletic events are rhythmic and visual, like televised sports with the volume turned down. But for Troy, it has always been that way at home and in school. He pulls mostly A's. He plays football and baseball. He's on the academic team. He studies three-dimensional animation and would like to make a career of it after college.

Troy's hand signals grow animated as he talks about loving competition. Maybe it's harder for the deaf, he said, because they can't hear a coach yell instructions. And, of course, there's confusion on the court when the whistle blows. But there is also an advantage: "We're so in tune with our eyes."

Through an interpreter, Troy voiced a common complaint of the deaf: "Many people think we aren't as intelligent as hearing people because we use American Sign Language. They don't understand. . . . So I feel like on the court I need to prove we can play basketball, that we're just as good."

But in sports the heart can be bigger than the players. Thursday's game against a Riverside, Calif., school for the deaf was a mismatch. The Roadrunners were outnumbered and outsized. When the first-quarter buzzer sounded, Riverside led 21-1. The rest of the game was only slightly better. But Troy and his teammates never slumped, never pointed fingers of blame, never gave up.

On the sidelines, 16-year-old Amanda and her friends kept up a constant din until it was time to get dressed for the next game. The cheerleading squad has four members. Three of them also are basketball players, comprising half of the girls' team.

At a pep rally earlier in the week, Amanda's cheer squad led the nearly 300-member student body at Phoenix Day School in a sign-language version of "Stand up! Sit down! Fight! Fight! Fight!" They did the wave. They divided the stands in half and conducted a noisemaking contest among the kids, who howled and pounded their feet enough to make deafness seem a blessing.

"I'm kind of shy," Amanda noted. "But I enjoy the spirit that goes on."

The daughter of Gena and Tim Salazar of Phoenix was born with a profound hearing loss because her mother contracted rubella in the eighth month of pregnancy. Although many in her family learned to sign, she lives in two worlds, the hearing and deaf.

That second world is at Phoenix Day, where she started as a preschooler. It is a place of opportunity, where she also plays volleyball and serves on the student council.

Amanda, who loves to dance, said John Travolta is one of her heroes. The other is Kylan Loney, a guard for the Arizona State University Sun Devils who uses sign language and has become a mentor. "I really want to do that - play college basketball," Amanda added. "I think it's possible."

But first there was a high school tournament game against New Mexico School for the Deaf. During warm-ups, Amanda swished shot after shot while mom beamed. "Nothing but pride," she said.

Phoenix Day jumped out to a lead, but Amanda's shots clanked (silently) off the rim. Then, in the second quarter, she got tangled with a New Mexico player and was thrown face first to the floor. Two teeth were broken, setting off a hand-wagging frenzy among players, coaches and fans.

Mom described the scene later, adding: "Of course, Amanda wouldn't go home. She had to play. She went back in."

The Roadrunners' girls team won their opener 32-15. For anyone who would listen, it was like Amanda said earlier: "The most important thing is to have fun . . . and win."

By Dennis Wagner, The Arizona Republic