ATLANTA — By now, it’s impossible to determine who the biggest buffoon of this Rutgers mess really is. The candidates keep topping each other in an endless parade of absurdity. Mike Rice may have started it with his endless screen tests for the “Falling Down” sequel. But that was just the appetizer, it turns out.
Maybe Rutgers needed a polygraph operator — or a psychic — on retainer because by the time Tim Pernetti, the ousted athletic director, and Dr. Robert Barchi, the university president, were done engaging in the low comedy “The Gang That Couldn’t Spin Straight,” one thing was clear: These lightweights would be challenged to manage the night shift at a Jersey diner, let alone a major research university.
“This,” Barchi said yesterday, during a performance in which he looked like he was cutting a hostage tape, “was a failure of process.”
No, it wasn’t. This was a failure of human beings, entrusted with the reputation of a top-flight academic institution and the well-being of the students who represent it. What Barchi said next is one of the most egregious lapses of common sense you will ever hear: “I regret that I did not ask to see this video when Tim first told me of its existence.”
So here are your two choices when you consider how in the world Rutgers’ Board of Governors could possibly continue to entrust this overmatched empty suit with running its university. Either Barchi knew exactly what had happened in December — as Pernetti intimated. Or he actually believes this is his best defense:
Despite being told by his athletic director that Rice was caught on tape hitting, kicking and throwing basketballs at Rutgers students, despite the fact that he was caught hurling homophobic and misogynistic slurs with the same force he was whipping those Wilsons, it never occurred to Barchi to take 40 minutes (or even 40 seconds) out of his busy schedule to have a look.
Really, Doc? That’s the best you could come up with?
Beautiful. Pernetti tendered his resignation yesterday — by all indications reluctantly — and on his way out the door he took great care — and, you would suspect, great delight — in giving his side of what happened when Eric Murdock came forward with video evidence of Rice’s epic tyranny.
“As you know,” Pernetti wrote in his resignation letter, addressed to Barchi, “my first instincts when I saw the videotape of Coach Rice’s behavior was to fire him immediately. However, Rutgers decided to follow a process involving university lawyers, human resources professionals, and outside counsel.”
Oh, wait. It gets better:
“Following review of the independent investigative report, the consensus was that university policy would not justify dismissal. I have admitted my role in, and regret for, that decision, and wish that I had the opportunity to go back and override it for the sake of everyone involved.”
No, no, really, it gets even better.
Later in the day, Rutgers released the findings of the special investigation it commissioned before suspending Rice last December, and while it spends 33 1/2 pages meandering about and all but excusing Rice’s behavior, at the bottom of Page 34 we find this remarkable summary:
“In sum, we believe there is sufficient evidence to find that certain actions of Coach Rice did ‘cross the line’ of permissible conduct and that such actions constituted harassment or intimidation within Rutgers’ Policy. … Furthermore, due to the intensity with which Coach Rice engaged in some of the misconduct, we believe that … Pernetti could reasonably determine that Coach Rice’s actions tended to embarrass and bring shame or disgrace to Rutgers in violation of Coach Rice’s employment contract with Rutgers.”
Perfect. So Pernetti’s take is he wanted to fire Rice but wasn’t allowed to. His tweedy boss, Barchi, insists he had no idea of the extent of Rice’s sociopathic behavior until a few days ago. Except their own report now shouts to the sky that both of these perspectives were abject falsehoods (at best) or bald-faced lies (at worst).
It’s remarkable, really. Pernetti wanted to take the righteous route out of office, but if he were really on the side of the angels he would have insisted on doing what he allegedly said he would do back in December. But either because of hubris or professional cowardice, he did neither — even when the investigation revealed he could.
Boss Tweed? Even worse. Couldn’t be bothered to watch the film. Couldn’t be bothered to follow the report’s advice. Shouldn’t be allowed to spend one more day in the president’s office, even if he’s the one marshaling Gov. Christie’s desire to merge Rutgers and its medical schools. This was a three-pronged disease that infected Rutgers. The tongue has been cut out. The heart has been torn out.
Now it’s time for the head.