When I was in high school, one of our gym teachers was a shaved-head disciplinarian who liked football and wrestling but couldn't abide much else.

He wasn't big on finesse and he seemed to have a particular disdain for basketball. So, each winter, he'd roll one ball out to the middle of the floor, split the class of 100 boys in half, and say it was time for Gorilla Basketball.

The object: Put the ball through the hoop any way you could. Dribbling was not only optional, it was foolhardy. You could run with the ball. You could tackle on the hard gym floor. There was no such thing as a foul. After 45 minutes, the final score might be 2-1.

There weren't many rules, but it made for a memorable and aggressively silly event. I often have wondered what it would feel like to be the creator of such a celebration of chaos, and now am about to find out.

Regular readers of this column know that on Sept. 14, I suggested that this city have a Trashapalooza. Everyone goes out one day and picks up all the litter they can find, concentrating on recyclables if they can.

I've since listened to the wise counsel of Boris Weinstein, founder of Citizens Against Litter, who has organized zone defenses against streetside trash in Squirrel Hill and Shadyside, among other neighborhoods, and whose trash picker I am not fit to hold. Mr. Weinstein suggested scouring one neighborhood before tackling the entire city.

That makes sense. So at 10 a.m. Saturday, Oct. 21, a cracked team of anti-litter enthusiasts will ascend Fineview from every direction, ridding the slopes of cans, bottles and other flotsam of furtive parties past.

Then we'll all a tap a keg and drink from recyclable cups, plotting our next assault on this city that looks so glorious from a distance but not so good in some of its close-ups.

The Hash House Harriers, the drinking club with a running problem, has stepped up to be the core group, but anyone wishing to join them can contact Matt Galluzzo at the North Side Leadership Conference, either at 412-330-2557 or matt@pittsburghnorthside.com.

Fineview is made for aerobic altruism, with city steps ascending from several directions, but right now this event is about as organized as Gorilla Basketball. This should be a bit more purposeful if no less strange.

Alison Huettner of Shadyside is the Harrier who took the lead here. We're still kicking around with the conference what the prizes should be. We figure one prize for the person or team bringing in the most weight, but what about the person bringing in the oldest object or most disgusting object?

"I think we can think creatively about what those awards might be,'' Mr. Galluzzo said.

This is a one-day, goofball-friendly event, but the eventual goal is a comprehensive assault. I met with Mr. Weinstein and another concerned citizen, Ed Kiely, at a Squirrel Hill coffee shop last week and listened.

Mr. Weinstein wants to zone every neighborhood, as he does now in the East End, with 1,500 to 2,000 local volunteers. He sees a three-person team taking responsibility for each zone. Forbes Avenue in Squirrel Hill is much cleaner today because anti-litter commandoes have organized.

Mayor Luke Ravenstahl has budgeted for a special public works crew for intensive cleanups in city neighborhoods, but there might not be such a need if there were more trash and recycling bins. It's past time to start enforcing the litter laws, too, and targeting businesses that generate it.

"As important as it is to mop up the floor," Mr. Kiely said, "we have to turn off the faucet if the sink is overflowing.''

The count and the sociology of empty cans and bottles from a single neighborhood should be interesting. It's as clear as the crushed plastic bottles at curbside that water drinkers have been closing on beer drinkers as the biggest slobs in Pittsburgh, but I'd like a semi-official count.

The Pennsylvania Resources Council and PA Cleanways of Allegheny County will provide bags and gloves.

There's aluminum in them thar hills, as well as glass, plastic and rubber. We might as well mine it.