His Heart's Not Short

They call him 'Tree Stump' and 'Bowling Ball,' but next week all 5-ft. 5 1/2-in. of Mike Paulovich hopes to stop all those who maliciously whistle Randy Newman's tune behind his back. The Kirkland House junior is out to prove the skeptics (including his own coaches) wrong and strike a blow for short people everywhere by earning a berth on one of the three Harvard lightweight varsity crew boats.

It's been an uphill battle for the Brockton native ever since that first day as a freshman when he signed up for crew only to be told by his coach that he was too short. In crew, height is synonymous with a long stroke which is essential for speed, fluidity, and success.

"It became a challenge I just couldn't resist," Paulovich said yesterday after his daily two-hour practice. "I wanted to prove that the coach was wrong more than anything else in the world." Paulovich decided to start an excruciating grind of daily double-practices, pushing his muscular 150-pound frame through the knee-buckling stadiums and vomitacious drills.

Paulovich is the first to admit that at the onset "I was doing pretty poorly and fulfilling the coach's prophency." But despite his obvious technique handicaps, Paulovich surprised everyone in the seat races and nailed down a spot in the number two freshman lightweight boat.

Paulovich says he'll never forget that time freshman year when he was filling in on the varsity boat in practice and varsity lightweight coach John Higginson started screaming about a seven-man boat. "He just couldn't see me over the taller guys from the escort boat," says Mike, who admits that as a high school athlete he "never amounted to anything more than a hill of beans."

Paulovich tucked that experience under his belt when he decided to spend the summer at Marine Platoon Officer Candidates School in beautiful downtown Quantico, Virginia. Too short to be eligible for the Marines, Paulovich says he slept on a board the night before his physical and stood on his tip-toes at the weigh-in. "Sarge" (his nickname from day one of sophomore year when he returned to Cambridge sporting a Frank Freidel crew-cut) finished in the top 5 per cent of his Marine class and plans to take a commission following graduation from Harvard next year.

Sophomore year brought with it discouragement and disappointment. Paulovich failed to make a varsity boat, but his endless effort and determination garnered him the "official spare" designation on the varsity roster. Mike was supposed to be the man waiting in the wings to take over for rowers who succumbed to the sundry ailments that plague their lot. And sure enough, just as fast as you can say 'crab,' the injury devil wreaked its havoc on the lights.

But Paulovich never got the call. "Coach Higginson told me I was aggressive enough," he remembers, "but that I still lacked a certain smoothness, that my height was a distinct disadvantage." As he speaks of this obvious slight, there is no bitterness in Mike's voice, no remorse; rather. the tone is one of the steady plodder who never quits because of an intangible quality called pride.

Mike's indefatigible spirit lagged briefly last fall when he wasn't 'boated' for the Head of the Charles race. He stopped rowing, hacked around playing rugby and House tackle football, but his soul and spirit still belonged to Newell Boathouse. It took less than a month before Harvard's shortest rower since 1907 (according to the record books) was back in the tanks.

But next week the real season begins, when the cream is sifted from the curdle and teammates battle stroke-for-stroke for a varsity berth. "Just because you're short doesn't mean you can't make it," says the ever-optimistic Paulovich. "I'm psyched to prove it."

And one leaves with the distinct impression that "Sarge" has tried everything short of "The Rack" to do so.