HPER dean paddles to victory in Regatta

School of Health, Physical Education and Recreation Dean Bob Goodman is in the mood for redemption.

It’s an hour before Friday’s 9th Annual Cardboard Boat Regatta, and the dean is trotting down the hall to his office. This year, he says, he’s not going to sink.

“I’m going to come out as Super HPER Dean,” he jokes, disappearing behind a door.

He emerges five minutes later in a red ensemble. Instead of olive-colored pants, he’s wearing red sports shorts. A sweatshirt that reads “Bob. The man, the myth, the legend” has replaced his white button-up and tie. A pair of sunglasses, which he puts on in his office, rounds out the look.

HPER Assistant Dean David Skirvin meets Goodman in the office.

“I might be the dean in two hours,” Skirvin jokes. “He might not be alive.”

“Are you going to be bobbing this year?” another colleague asks Goodman.

His reply – and race philosophy – is simple.

“Better than sinking.”

***
Last year, Goodman’s race didn’t go well.

It was the first year for the “Dean’s Challenge” part of the regatta, and Goodman was up against former Dean of Students Dick McKaig and Stephen Watt, associate dean for strategic planning in the College of Arts and Sciences.

“I had a boat with no sides,” Goodman said. Technically it was more of a raft made out of cardboard and duct tape. Immediately after getting into the boat from the dock, Goodman sank. Watt won.

That’s not going to happen this time – at least Goodman hopes not. With a white towel wrapped around his neck, he gets into his car and begins the drive to the IU Outdoor Pool.

“The Dean of Hutton is going to be tough competition,” he says, pointing out the Hutton Honors College through the driver’s side window.

It’s all about the boat builders, he says. A raft just won’t cut it. A boat needs sides and reinforcement. But the deans will never know who is responsible for building their winning – or losing – vessel.

“I wanted some guys from Purdue to engineer mine,” Goodman says in the car, “but they didn’t go for that.”

A sheet of mist hangs in the air and specks of rain are sticking to the windshield as Goodman heads up Fee Lane. He’s not worried about the weather.

“What’s a few raindrops when you’re drowning in water?” he asks.

***
Goodman is the first dean to show up to the pool. The regatta’s organizers, members of the Council for Advancing Student Leadership, are milling around  the pool, and Sigma Chi pledges are putting the finishing touches on a boat.

As community and student competitors arrive with their boats, he sits in a plastic chair near the vending machines. A high-heeled shoe boat goes by, as does a giant cardboard toilet.

Two young girls arrive with a perfectly crafted Yellow Submarine - complete with cardboard propellers and telescope. Kids from the Councilman Center Indiana Swim Team wearing beaver tails add a mast shaped like a tree to their boat. Through the green tape, a memo taped to the cardboard is still legible. "Dentist Appt 4:00"

The Dean has already seen his boat. It’s constructed out of 13 rolls of duct tape and some cardboard. At least it has sides this year. But he’s still not sure.

“I don’t know whether it’s a coffin or a boat,” he jokes. “Tell everyone I’m incommunicative, I’m just so focused. And if they want to know what I’m listening to,” he said, pointing to non-existent headphones, “it’s Radiohead.”

Goodman jokes a lot as he waits. After all, it’s supposed to be fun. But his humor can’t mask the fact that this year he wants to win. This is his redemption ride.

***
The race is running late. The representative from the Office for Women’s Affairs has not shown up, and all of the Deans are milling around their boats.

Hutton Honors College Dean Matthew Auer is standing by with his two kids. Associate Athletic Director for Academic and Student Development Services Grace Calhoun inspects her boat while returning champion Watt greets his competitors.

Goodman’s boat is called the “HMS HPER.”  As he waits with colleagues near the starting point, everyone discusses the worst-case scenarios.

“HMS, it stands for ‘He Might Sink,’” someone points out.

“Who’s your beneficiary?” someone else asks.

“We need the theme from ‘Rocky,’” another chimes in.

Goodman pulls his towel up over his head and jogs in place.

“I’m out for blood this year,” he says.

It’s a little after 4:30 p.m., and the Deans are putting on their life vests. Auer zips Goodman into his vest, and the competitors head to edge of the pool. Two Sigma Chi pledges designated to help Goodman walk over.

“You have to take very good care of him,” says Deb Getz, director of the Center for Student Leadership Development. “You will be responsible if he dies.” The pledges laugh.

“What year are you guys?” Goodman asks.

“Freshmen,” they respond.

“Do you want to make it to be sophomores?” Goodman jokes.

It’s race time.

***
Goodman bobs in his boat as his Sigma Chi assistants attempt to steady the flimsy vessel. The snap of a starting signal sounds, and Goodman thrusts his paddle into the water and makes a stride across the pool.

He’s already farther than he was last year.

Not even a minute into the race, the other three competitors are floundering. They’re capsizing and teetering. The back half of their boats are sinking in a Titanic-like display.

Goodman is breaking away. He makes it to the center of the pool, stopping to wave at the cheering spectators.

“Keep going Bob, don’t wave,” a colleague screams.

Three Sigma Chi pledges are helping Auer back into his waterlogged boat. They’re pushing him and his sinking blob of cardboard across the pool. But it’s too late.

Goodman makes it to the finish line, paddle raised above his head, and beaming.

“I owe it all to my boat builders,” Goodman said after the race. “Victory is sweet.”