Most nine-year-old kids who are involved with boats tend to stick to the folded-up-newspaper variety--the type that doubles as a hat. Not Jeffrey Pfaendtner (pronounced FENT-ner). As a youngster growing up in Germany , he learned to row a racing shell--the kind that's 11/2 feet wide and 28 feet long.

Now, 17 racing seasons later, the SEAS graduate ('90) and doctoral candidate in materials science and engineering will compete in the Atlanta Olympics in the lightweight four. "If I hadn't been in Germany, where youth rowing is popular, and gotten that early start, I probably would not have made it this far or still be rowing today," the Detroit native said.

Those who know Pfaendtner, however, credit his success to his perseverance, not his early start. "He's really tough physically," recalled Stan Bergman, head men's rowing coach, who recently finished his 12th season at Penn. "Jeff can tolerate pain as well or better than anybody I've ever coached. If we had eight guys like Jeff in a boat, we wouldn't lose any races."

"Because he came from a Midwestern club, Jeff wasn't recruited," said Ransom Weaver (C'90), a doctoral candidate in Asian and Middle Eastern Studies who has rowed with and against Pfaendtner since 1984. "Yet he immediately stood out as one of our top rowers. Whatever he does, he's able to push himself very hard."

And Weaver's not exaggerating; he has seen just how hard Pfaendtner can push. In the spring of 1987, two weeks before Eastern Sprints, Pfaendtner donated bone marrow to his sister suffering from leukemia. "They took it from his hip, so it hurt just to sit," Weaver said. "Most people would have been sidelined for a month, but Jeff was training within a few days." Their freshman boat went on to win the prestigious race and complete an undefeated season.

Pfaendtner thanks Bergman for helping him develop his winning attitude. "Coach Bergman left no stone unturned in the preparation of his athletes," he said. "Everything was thoroughly thought-out and well-balanced--training, racing and school work. I learned there is no magic pill or formula for success in rowing or anything else. Hard work, persistence and frequent reminders of one's goals are the key."

Not just the key to successful rowing, either. Pfaendtner has also applied Bergman's lessons to his doctoral work, which he started five years ago.

Pfaendtner researches the cracking and failure of high-strength metal alloys under conditions of extreme temperature and stress. The research, funded by the National Science Foundation and General Electric, could be applied to power-generating plants and high-performance jet engines.

"We're trying to understand the mechanics of fracture and how to slow it down," explained Charles J. McMahon Jr., professor of materials science and Pfaendtner's advisor. The two, who first worked together on an undergraduate research group, collaborate with a group from General Electric.

"He has become an independent scientist," said McMahon, who rowed as an undergraduate at Penn in the early '50s. "I think of him as a good colleague." That's not surprising, since McMahon and Pfaendtner work so well together: Their findings have been published in the journal now called Acta Materiala.

McMahon considers Pfaendtner's pursuit of rowing and a doctorate to be "truly extraordinary." Pfaendtner is more humble about combining the two arduous feats: "I row for the same reason Ph.D.s lock themselves up in a lab for many hours a day. It's very difficult, very challenging, I do it well, and most of the time, it's fun."

At the ripe old age of 29, Pfaendtner is now a veteran of U.S. Rowing National Teams and has competed as both a sweep rower (in which boats of either two, four or eight athletes row with one oar each) and a sculler (in which a single, double or quad of scullers row with two oars apiece). He made his first team as a Penn sophomore, winning a silver medal in the eight in the 1988 World Championships held in Milan, Italy. Since then, Pfaendtner has competed in five more world championships, been a spare one other year, and won a silver in the quad in the 1995 Pan Am Games.

This will be Pfaendtner's first Olympics, which he explains as "the world championships times 10." He likely would have made the '88 or '92 teams, only lightweight rowing was not an Olympic event then. Rowing was one of the original Olympic sports, but, until this year, that has always meant solely open (a.k.a. heavyweight) events. In lightweight races, oarsmen must weigh under 160 lbs. and meet a boat average of 155 lbs.

This changes the competition considerably. Size is taken out of the equation, since everyone is roughly the same height and weight. The athletes' precision and conditioning become even more crucial, and a new dimension is added. "The weigh-in is sometimes as difficult as the race itself," said Pfaendtner, whose natural weight is 175-180 lbs. "The game is this: Who can diet and sweat to weigh in at 155 lbs. two hours before the race and still be able to perform at peak ability."

Pfaendtner predicts tough competition from the European boats. "In some European countries, lightweight rowing has been the highest priority for years," he said. "They put a lot of money into developing their athletes. In the U.S., lightweights take a backseat to heavyweight rowing. Americans always like bigger and faster."

Still, Pfaendtner is optimistic about his race, which is a straight, or coxless, event. "My teammates and I have worked very hard this past year and we're in the best physiological condition of our lives," he said. "This opens the door to any possibility."

After the Olympics, Pfaendtner looks forward to a trip to Spain and a visit at the White House. And, having finished his classes, he plans to return to his research so he can write and defend his thesis. "I'm going to lock myself in the lab for the next 12 months and finish school," said Pfaendtner, who took a leave of absence last November.

Pfaendtner originally chose Penn for its combination of excellent crew and engineering programs, a balance he has continually strived for in his own life. "At times, the rowing and the Ph.D. have been at odds," he said. "Rowing will probably have cost me one-and-a-half years of school in the end.

"No regrets now, though," he added.

Return to Compass Features for July 16, 1996