Selfless WSU forward a big shot on the court

Daven Harmeling plies his skills in a world of chutzpah and tattoos and trash talk. His style is not exactly a conventional one, but it works.

Here's the scrapbook on the Washington State junior forward, bulging with snapshots of a couple of astonishing seasons, his and theirs:

Here's the day when Harmeling, a 6-foot-7 Colorado product, said he was fortunate to be at WSU, because he couldn't start for any other ranked team.

"Oh, definitely," he says. "For me to be successful, I need playmakers behind me. I'm not the type of player who's going to get the ball to go one-on-one. When I do that, I end up doing something stupid."

Here's the shot of him after the Arizona road trip last year, getting named Pac-10 player of the week for the second time. He said he was "so mad" about it. He figured there were teammates who deserved it more.

Here's the one right after the 2007 Arizona State game in Tempe, when ASU's last-second shot rimmed out and WSU survived by a point, leaving the Sun Devils winless in the Pac-10.

The players are spent, walking down a hallway to their respective locker rooms. Harmeling extends a hand to ASU forward Jeff Pendergraph and puts an arm around him.

"Like he was coaching him up," recalls Doug Tammaro, an ASU publicist. " 'Hey, you guys are like us last year. Keep doing what you're doing.'

"It was one of the classiest things I've ever seen."

For all those random acts of selflessness, though, this might be the snapshot Washington State faithful appreciate most: Here's Daven's mom Mary, hearing a rumpus in the bathroom when Daven was perhaps 3.

She opens the door to find him standing on the countertop, tossing wadded-up Dixie cups into the toilet on the other side of the room.

"I don't know what his percentage was," laughs his dad Jeff, a Presbyterian minister in Grand Junction, Colo.

It was probably pretty good. Harmeling is the classic, catch-and-shoot player who can't be left open. His intentions might be pure most of the time, but on the floor, he's the assassin next door.

He has had three career 20-point games, all last season, and judging by his Pac-10 games after a disjointed start, the next one could be right around the corner. He began the season 5 for 26 on threes and then broke a thumb in practice Dec. 21. Playing with a wrap on his hand since the Washington game Jan. 5, Harmeling has sizzled, hitting 17 for 30 on threes.

Like seemingly every other aspect of the Cougars, this story has some ties to Wisconsin. Jeff and Mary Harmeling went to high school in Oostburg, Wis. — an enclave largely Dutch, Jeff's ancestry — the same school that produced a couple of players for ex-WSU coach Dick Bennett at Green Bay and Wisconsin.

The Harmelings moved to Pennsylvania and in the late '90s, to Colorado. Daven went on to become a modest prospect, interesting a few mid-major schools. Then he went to a camp at Colorado State and the Rams offered him a chance to walk on, with the provision that he likely would earn a scholarship after a year.

Colorado State's "in" with its camp eventually backfired. After it, Harmeling was invited to join a select team that played some AAU tournaments in the summer of 2003, one in Denton, Texas. WSU assistant Mike Heideman happened to be on hand.

"I liked his completeness," says Heideman. "He had a sense of the game. He can move. I liked his toughness. He was a smart kid, and the more we found out about his character, he met all the criteria."

Harmeling thus became part of WSU's nucleus class that included Derrick Low and Kyle Weaver. But after they spent a freshman year together, Harmeling's path took a different turn when he injured his left shoulder before the 2005-06 season and redshirted.

"I'm definitely glad to get a redshirt," Harmeling said. "But it'll be hard to see those guys leave."

Harmeling seems destined to be terminally anonymous, which he's probably fine with. A Pac-10 basketball release once referred to him as "Devan." A Fox sports anchor called him "Hammerling." A major Bay Area paper wrote him up as "Hamerling." He must have the most-mispronounced, easiest name in college basketball.

Off the floor, there's a good chance Harmeling has one of two things in his hands, a Bible or a rifle. He has been involved in campus ministries at WSU and is an avid hunter.

"His experience at Washington State has been, in many ways, life-transforming," says his father. "Daven has been much more intentional, and intense, about his faith."

Therein, he has found a comfort level. Jeff Harmeling remembers the disappointment his wife felt two years ago when she learned her son wasn't coming home for a couple of days' Christmas break in December.

Daven's response: "Part of my family is here."

At home in Colorado, Harmeling often heads for the Grand Mesa range, 30 minutes away, where he has bagged three mule deer.

"I haven't gotten a bull elk yet," he says. "That's the one thing that's eluded me."

Well, not quite. Harmeling still rues the final seconds of regulation last March in the NCAA second round against Vanderbilt. It was 60-all, and the Cougars had the last possession for a trip to the Sweet 16.

They ran a 1-4 flat set and two Commodores converged on Weaver, leaving Harmeling a clean look in the right corner. With a pro-WSU crowd rising and ready to blow the roof off Arco Arena in Sacramento, the shot bounced off the back iron.

Harmeling still shakes his head that it didn't go down.

"A lot of people don't believe me when I say how calm I was," he says. "I was so calm, I could not believe I missed it."

In practice, he found himself almost obsessed with it, going to that same corner, taking a pass from the same angle.

"As much as I kind of try to bury it," he says, "it's going to be with me the rest of my life. I try to take positives from it."

Like: He came back to hit a three in double overtime against Vanderbilt that could have helped the Cougars win. And the belief that he'll probably get the chance again, and it'll be like tossing a Dixie cup toward a large target.

Bud Withers: 206-464-8281 or bwithers@seattletimes.com