Harbouring Family Fury : In a Competitive Household, One Son Teaches Restraint to Others

Jimmy Harbour is, quite literally, stuck in the middle. He looks up at his father and his older brother, and down at his younger brother and he wonders: What in the world happened to me?

On the bench at Moorpark College, where Jimmy is a sophomore guard and his father, John, is an assistant coach, it is the son who usually ends up stabilizing the father’s temper. The way Jimmy sees it, once something’s done, it’s done. No need to get upset.

And so he ponders how the rest of the Harbour men can become so frustrated about a basketball game.

Jimmy Harbour’s face bears a striking family resemblance, but it is slightly more elongated, more relaxed. He talks slowly, thinking before he speaks.

His game also bears a striking resemblance. He dives recklessly for loose balls, drives the lane when he needs to, shoots the jumper when it’s open and plays relentless defense.

He is a Harbour, without the heat. And he doesn’t know why.

“I guess its just in my nature,” he said. “I don’t get angered easily.”

That often draws the envy of the other Harbour men--David, a senior guard at Stanford; Matt, a junior guard at Camarillo High, and his father, who coached at Camarillo for nine seasons before resigning after David’s junior year in 1990.

Intense. It is a word that rolls off the tongue when the Harbours and basketball come together.

“Jimmy just . . . wasn’t,” says Camarillo Coach Mike Prewitt, who has coached all three Harbour brothers.

So why isn’t he?

Perhaps Jimmy Harbour’s mother can explain.

Sharon Harbour is sitting in the top row of the Camarillo High gym. She has been sitting there for years.

She has seen one coach, three players and more than 15 years of powder-blue uniforms.

She can pinpoint the similarities between John and David, between David and Matt. The ferocious intensity that sometimes collides with frustration. The pressure that David felt in being a coach’s son. The fact that her youngest son needs to relax on the court.

She is an expert on her youngest and oldest sons because they are so much like the man she married. She is an expert on basketball because she has been sitting in the stands and watching since John played at Arizona from 1967-69.

But there is an element to Jimmy that even his mother doesn’t seem to understand.

“Jimmy’s just . . . quieter,” Sharon says.

Just quieter. Certainly quieter than Matt, who still has that ferocious combination of youthful intensity along with the inherited Harbour fire. And that means Matt tends to boil over quite often.

Off the court, Matt can sit back and reflect on this. He realizes that what he does doesn’t do any good. He knows he should be just . . . quieter. He knows he will have to be if he wants to follow his brothers into college basketball.

He attempted to ensure it through a pact with his father. No talking with the officials. No technical fouls. Or no more basketball.

On this night, during a 72-48 Agoura rout of Camarillo, Sharon Harbour is the lone calming influence on Matt.

She sees her son’s frustration. The shots are not falling, and he is ready to explode. . The whistle has sounded, but he is dribbling the ball angrily, furiously.

“Matt!” Sharon calls firmly. “He’s going to get a technical!”

He hears her. He cannot help but hear her--the gym is only half full. And he regains control, handing the ball to an official as calmly as he can.

His mother has done her best. But the words of his father seem to characterize Matt Harbour.

“Matt’s got to learn to relax and just play,” John Harbour says.

Relax. He can do that--off the court. He goes fishing. He talks fishing all the time with his coach, Mike Prewitt.

At home, he can relate with Jimmy. They are alike.

But set them on a basketball court. . . .

*

Jimmy watches his brothers play, and he smiles. They are so similar. They are so. . . . He pauses again, thinking of just the right word and then comes up with two.

“Feisty,” Jimmy concludes. Then he adds: “They’re very intense.”

Intense. Just like their father, who still tends to lose control on the sidelines. And so it’s no surprise that the days of John Harbour coaching his oldest son were, well, interesting at times.

David Harbour would score in bushels back then, taking shot after shot and putting up ridiculous numbers . Thirty-four points in a half. Fifty in a game. And still, his father and coach--who were one and the same--would push him to do more, to get better.

Injuries to key players left David as Camarillo’s lone scoring threat during his junior year. But there was only so much he could do when teams started playing the triangle-and-two defense, harassing him the entire game. Or when the opposing team’s students started chanting his name.

David’s and John’s personalities would clash horribly at times. And the pressure on David continued to mount.

John Harbour, who had already won 147 games and four Marmonte League titles, began to realize something: “If I wasn’t the coach, he wouldn’t have to live under that extra pressure.”

So he resigned after David’s junior year, and returned to teaching math at Camarillo. David finished strong his senior year and earned a scholarship to Stanford, where he is averaging nearly 10 points a game and has been called the Cardinal’s best defensive player.

“If we are flat,” Stanford Coach Mike Montgomery said, “he raises the level of intensity.”

*

These days John Harbour has learned to relax. He returned to coaching this year, as an assistant at Moorpark. But this was Jimmy’s team, so there were no worries about personality clashes.

“He is just much calmer and much more collected,” John says of his middle son.

Of course, John still screams and yells and loses control sometimes--some things will never change. But he insists that his son is rubbing off on him.

He no longer takes basketball home with him. He no longer drills his children every chance he gets. Instead, as Matt says, “he kicks back and eats his ice cream.”

“A lot of our kids have success, and you get greedy and want it all,” John said.

So he is enjoying what he has. While his coaching duties do come first, he and Sharon travel to as many of their children’s games as they can.

“You’d better enjoy the moments,” he said.

It sounds an awful lot like Jimmy.

David Harbour laughs. He, too, has learned to calm his temper.

And Matt is doing his best, for he has always emulated his oldest brother.

So, in turn, they all are learning from Jimmy.

“They say the middle child is the most well-adjusted,” David explains.

Jimmy Harbour won’t argue. It’s not in his nature.