The Michigan Stadium press
box will open at 12:30 p.m.
Saturday, as it always does. But
it won’t ever be the same again.
Last Friday, Michigan lost
one of its most beloved behind-
the-scenes figures when Dean
Cook, a member of Michigan’s
event staff who had become a
fixture at football, basketball,
soccer and other games in Ann
Arbor over the past decade,
passed away at the age of 58.
Dean wasn’t one of the
more publicized faces of the
Wolverines — save for a snippet
in a Players’ Tribune article
last December, his work rarely
landed him in the limelight. That
didn’t stop him from being one
of the brightest personalities
in the room, though. Dean
never hesitated to strike up a
conversation with anyone —
fellow event staff members,
reporters,
broadcasters,
coaches and players all came
to recognize and appreciate his
presence.
His
impact
on
those
people was undeniable. An
outpouring
of
appreciation
flowed on Twitter following his
passing, with former Michigan
basketball star Caris LeVert
being one of the many people
who joined in.
“RIP to my guy Deano,”
LeVert tweeted. “Always had
the same positive energy no
matter what. Michigan man
that will truly be missed!”
Sunday,
the
men’s
and
women’s soccer teams took the
pitch sporting black armbands
in memory of Dean. Redshirt
sophomore goalkeeper Sarah
Jackson wrote “Win 4 Dean”
on her arm in black marker.
“He was just a huge part of our
team,” she said, “and we really
miss him here.”
Most of us met Dean as
sophomores, just starting out
our Daily careers. Now, as
seniors, we are struck by the
loss of the man who knew our
names long before any of us
knew his. We were fortunate
to experience Dean’s famous
pre-game fist bumps both in the
Crisler Center press section and
at Michigan Stadium, and we’ve
seen firsthand what kind of
impact Dean had on the people
he came in contact with in Ann
Arbor.
Over the last week, we
tracked down just a few of the
many people Dean has touched
to give them an opportunity to
share their memories.
John Beilein, Michigan men’s
basketball coach:
Here’s what I loved about
Dean: After every win, as he
walked me around to all my
(media) things for several years
now, he had a swag. He had the
same swag that I would have
after a win. It was like he loved
the win as much as I did. And if
we lost — emotionally, we were
in the exact same place after
a game. That was always fun
for me, to be able to talk with
him and just have fun with
him in those settings, in that
environment.
Alma Davila-Toro, Michigan
event staff:
Dean may have taken his last
breath last week, but he will
always be remembered. A part
of him made me feel at home
because it reminded me of the
men who raised me in Harlem.
Dean’s swag will be missed
on this team! His a-Maize-ing
spirit will live on. Dean, you
are and forever will be true
blue, through and through! The
Events Team loves you, Deano!
Matt Shepard, Michigan
men’s basketball play-by-play
announcer:
At Crisler Center, the home
announcers sit down the row
from the visiting announcers.
It’s a close-knit fraternity in
the Big Ten. Though he never
wore a headset, Dean Cook was
part of our broadcast team. He
was part of that fraternity, and
every broadcast crew in the
conference knew it.
Dean took care of us all.
Whatever we needed — box
scores,
water,
Diet
Coke,
Internet assistance, you name
it — Dean either helped provide
it or found someone who could
help. I made sure every time a
visiting crew came to Crisler,
they knew three things: the
closest bathroom, the media
meal room, and I made sure
they were introduced to Deano.
EVERY crew left that building
feeling they were Dean’s best
friend. EVERY crew would tell
me after their broadcast how
their experience at Michigan
was enhanced because of Dean.
He represented our broadcast
team,
Michigan
basketball
and the University with class
and enthusiasm. His passion
for Michigan was unmatched.
When we visited opposing
arenas,
broadcasters
would
show us the same courtesies we
show them in Ann Arbor, but
they always had a caveat: “But
we don’t have a Dean.”
Every home game, I hugged
him and thanked him for what
he did for us. And every road
game, I wished he traveled with
us.
His death has left Terry
Mills, engineer Tony Butler and
I with an emptiness that will
be impossible to fill. Games at
Crisler won’t be the same for
us. We’ll miss his winks after
a great Michigan play and his
scowl when things don’t go the
Wolverines’ way. But, most of
all, we’ll miss his infectious
laugh and contagious smile.
We loved you, Dean, and we
miss you.
Tom Wywrot, Michigan
men’s basketball sports
information director:
I don’t even know how to
put it into words how much
I’m gonna miss him. He was
THE guy. I think I come off as
a very happy-go-lucky person
and I like to try to have fun,
but he topped me. He always
made every game fun. He was a
shadow that I never really asked
for, but he was always there and
I came to rely on him so much.
I grew so fond of him that if he
didn’t come to a game, I was like,
“Oh man, what am I gonna do?”
He was such an energetic and
caring person — not necessarily
for Michigan, even though we
know his love for Michigan —
but just the care that he had
for people. Coach, the players,
the fans, anyone around him
— it was infectious, and it was
something that I try to and will
continue to aspire to. Every day,
he made me think life is fun.
This is fun, what I do for a living
is fun. To me, heaven got the
most fun person in the world.
He’s going to be sorely missed.
I’ve known him for years, and
I was just starting to get to know
him more off the court or away
from here. He was the same —
every day, every place — and
that was inspiring.
Dave Ablauf and Chad
Shepard, Michigan football
sports information directors:
Dean was not just a valued
family member of the staff that
puts on athletic events at the
University of Michigan. He was
one of the friendliest individuals
you’d ever meet, in any walk of
life. He was a friend to everyone
he came in contact with, and
his passion and enthusiasm for
where he was and the people
he was working with became
contagious. You may not have
always been glad to be at an
event, but if you were there, you
were glad that Dean was there
with you.
He bled Maize and Blue and
had a tangible, infectious energy
about him that can never be
replaced. Dean treated everyone
with respect — from the top-
level national broadcast crews
to the radio teams from Division
II schools that we played in
exhibition
contests.
From
interacting with student beat
writers and volunteer stadium
cleanup crews to entertaining
Hall of Fame broadcasters and
celebrity guests, Dean was
someone that we always felt
proud to have representing
Michigan Athletics.
One
great
memory
of
Dean was when the Crisler
Center event staff organized
a choreographed dance and
performed it on the floor during
a media timeout. Dean said he
was nervous beforehand, but
when it came time to dance,
that energy we became used to
seeing every day in his words
and smile was visible for 12,000
fans at Crisler to see. Dean was
known for his high-fives and
giving pounds, but when he
made it back up to the media
section of the arena, we were
all giving him high-fives and
pounds.
He had a smile on his face
every day, and never, ever felt
sorry for himself, but his smile
that day was as big as ever. Dean
worked hard, but he loved and
laughed harder. And we will
miss him every day.
Nick Baumgardner, Michigan
beat writer, MLive.com:
Like a lot of people, I first met
Dean during basketball games
at Crisler. I’ve met hundreds,
maybe thousands, of people
working games at Michigan
over the years. But no one like
Dean. No one who took the time
FootballSaturday, November 5, 2016
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to get to know people the way he
did. Reporters, staffers, coaches,
players,
fans,
custodians,
whatever — everyone knew
Dean and we all adored him. I’ll
miss his laugh, his kindness and
his fist bumps. RIP, buddy. No
press area at Michigan will be
the same.
Brendan Quinn, Michigan
beat writer, MLive.com:
The
doldrums
of
the
basketball season are a cold,
dark time. Everyone is tired.
The days are long and everyone
wants to see the winter come
mercifully to an end. That’s
why I loved seeing Dean every
few days at Crisler. He seemed
to live in a forcefield of positive
energy. He’d hit me with it every
game: “Yo, B!” That vigor. That
punch of life.
Dean had it and owned it and
shared it with everyone. I fed off
it. He was a human pick-me-up,
a reminder to find time to laugh
and smile. I always enjoyed
our pregame chats and busting
chops. He was the best and he
will be terribly missed by those
who he worked to help, never
asking for thanks. Crisler will
be a colder place this season, but
we’ll all be sure to keep Dean in
the back of our minds.
He’ll still brighten the day.
Thank you for sharing Dean
with us. I hope you find peace
in knowing how beloved he was.
Regards,
and
deepest
condolences,
Brendan Quinn
Mark Snyder, Michigan beat
writer, Detroit Free Press:
Dean was an irrepressible
man, full of joy and excitement.
He saw the gamut of Michigan
sports
from
extraordinary
highs to the low points in these
programs’ histories. Yet he
was always energized, always
optimistic, always confident.
My
favorite
Dean
moment
came every February when he
and the other ushers would do
their yearly dance during one
of the final home basketball
games. Every year he’d joke that
he hoped to make it through,
and every time he had the
biggest grin out there. Whether
wearing a Santa hat or trying
to follow the dance steps, Dean
was always happy. That’s what
I’ll remember.
Simon Kaufman, former
Daily men’s basketball
writer:
I always liked covering
games at Crisler the best.
Going to games on the road
was fun — a lot of arenas had
better atmospheres or louder
fans — but none had Dean.
Dean made you feel at home.
He did that with everyone. He
made you feel like a friend even
if he had just met you. Before
every game, I looked forward
to walking up to the press
seating area and seeing Dean.
“Si-MOAN!” he’d say. He knew
everyone by name, and your
name sounded better when he
said it. And then we’d share
a pregame fist bump. I think
Dean knew he was cool, but
he might not have known how
cool he made me and others
feel.
Daniel Wasserman, former
Daily men’s basketball
writer:
I’ll admit that as news of
Dean’s tragic passing spread,
I was a bit surprised at the
outpouring of tweets that came
from all angles of the Michigan
Athletic Department and press
corps. And not because he
lacked personality; Dean, or
Deano as I knew him, had the
charisma, the energy, the smile,
and yes, the dance moves,
to light up not just a room,
but an entire Crisler Center.
But with people as gracious
and genuine as him, it never
dawned on me that I was only
one of hundreds of people that
he touched — or fist bumped
— every day he came to work.
He was that special type that
made everyone feel uniquely
special. It wasn’t part of his job
description. It was just who he
was.
Dean loved Michigan and
loved the people who covered
it. He knew our names, asked
us questions, wished us luck on
our exams and made us smile.
The little things. A fist bump on
our way up to press row. A mid-
game water bottle. A fist bump
on our way down after the
game. “I’ll see you next week,”
he’d say, and always, “Go Blue.”
In my first game back to
Crisler after graduating, I
made a trip up to the press
area, sections 201 & 202. I
went to see old colleagues and
friends from the beat: the Daily
guys, Nick and Quinn, Rod and
Snyder, and my man Deano. He
was there, waiting with a fist
bump, as if I had never left. I
gave him a hug. I haven’t been
to Crisler since; the next time
won’t be same.
We can’t all be fast and
strong or return to campus to
coach our football team, but
every one of us can learn a
thing or two from Deano about
what it means to be a Michigan
Man.
Max Bultman, Daily football
writer:
The first time Dean called
me by name and offered me
one of his famed fist bumps,
I remember feeling so much
more
important
than
I’ve
ever had reason to feel as a
journalist.
Dean
had
that
effect on people. Whether or
not you know who he was, he
went out of his way to welcome
you. The outpouring of sorrow
after he passed is a testament
to how impactful that was to
so many. I’ll never forget his
quick flash of a smile when
he saw someone coming — it
really could have been anyone
— and how quickly he stuck
out his knuckles. Even on the
most tense, stressful days, it
was enough to turn your mood
around. I’ll miss that presence
when I walk into the press
box on Saturday, but I have
no doubt Dean will be looking
down on us, with that stadium-
light smile as bright as ever,
sticking out his fist from above.
Jake Lourim, Daily football
writer:
With
any
game-day
experience at Michigan, there
are so many feelings that go
into making it an enjoyable
experience. At every event
where we were lucky enough
to have Dean, his enthusiasm,
spirit and compassion stood
out above all else. I’ll never
forget the first time he called
my name out down press row
— he’d do it with everyone,
every game.
I always looked forward
to those moments. It was
amazing how Dean, all by
himself, could brighten up
the mood of any venue, no
matter how big. Michigan has
lost one of its most beloved
figures, and the world has lost
one of its kindest souls. The
press box will never be the
same without him. Thanks for
everything, Deano.
Jacob Gase, Daily football
writer:
During my sophomore and
junior years at the Daily, I
spent two or three days a week
in the press box at Crisler
Center covering the women’s
and men’s basketball teams.
No matter whether I was
covering an exhibition game
that drew just a handful of fans
or a sold-out matchup with
Michigan State, the one thing I
could count on was that Dean
would be there to give me my
pre-game fist bump.
Especially as a sophomore
writer who felt in over his
head covering his first beat,
Dean was always a calming
presence. His positive attitude,
his constant presence, and his
ability to treat everyone with
equal kindness made me feel
great every time I showed up
at the arena. It’s not that hard
to learn someone’s name in the
press box — everyone literally
walks around with their name
and photo on a press packs
around their necks — but the
fact that he made the effort
to read and remember my
name made me feel important
somehow.
Dean made an inexperienced
19-year-old feel welcome, and
he made everyone he came
in contact with feel like his
friend. I’ll never forget that
about him. Rest easy, buddy.
Kelly Hall, Daily football
writer:
I first met Dean during my
sophomore year as a women’s
basketball beat writer. I wish I
had expressed it to him, but he
was undeniably a bright spot
of every game I covered at
Crisler Center and Michigan
Stadium. He knew my name
before I knew his, calling me
“Kel” without missing a beat
just weeks into my coverage
of dub hoops. He made me feel
like family with his fist-bumps
and continued interest in my
life, and he taught me that a
single person can brighten
hundreds of people’s days
with a simple greeting and
smile.
RIP, Dean.