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November 22, 2017 - Image 17

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

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Chase Winovich doesn’t

forget things easily.

He still remembers the

Ohio State fan who “shot
the double bird” at him last
year. He still remembers his
omission from the Under
Armour All-America Game.
He still remembers the scout
team, the position change
and every other slight, in
part, because all of that has
made him who he is.

Perhaps
it’s
those

recollections that draw his
teammates to say the redshirt
junior has a few screws loose,
that he’s different. Frankly,
they’re not entirely wrong.
Winovich himself will admit
that he’s “just that right
amount of crazy.”

Ask
him
about
Conor

McGregor. He’ll say he would
love to just “be boys with
him.”

Ask him about how he

approaches each day. He’ll
compare himself to a lion
needing to be faster than
gazelles.

Ask
him
about
this

team’s
identity.
He’ll

reference a Steven Spielberg
documentary
to
make

the point that Michigan,
regardless of its youth, can
defy expectations.

But the path he has taken

to become the Wolverines’
starting
defensive
end

required craziness, obsession
or whatever you want to call
it.

So let’s do away with the

illusion of normalcy. Chase
Winovich is different.

He is crazy.

***

It surfaced at his 10th

birthday party.

Winovich was hosting a

double-elimination checkers
tournament at his house,
eventually matching up with

his friend, David Stover.

There were no seeds, but

if there were, Stover would
have
been
up
there.
As

Winovich says, Stover was
a bright kid
that was in
the
gifted

program.
Winovich
lost
and

promptly
ran upstairs,
crying,
pleading for
his
dad
to

beat
David

in the next
round. Even
then, losing
was a shock
to his pride.

“I was like, ‘You have to

beat him so that I can play him
again in the loser’s bracket,’
” Winovich recalls. “In my
head I’m thinking like, ‘How
can I win?’ And I thought to
myself, ‘Beating him twice in

the championship will be a
tough task, but I know if I can
get him in the loser’s bracket,
where I’m at, I can beat him
again.’ ”

Sure enough,

that’s
exactly

what happened.

Winovich’s

dad
beat

David.
Then

Winovich beat
him
himself,

jumpstarting
a
run
to
a

10-year-old
checkers
tournament
title.

Winovich

admits
that,

for Stover, the

experience
was
“probably

just irrelevant.”

But not for Winovich. He

calls his competitiveness a
curse and a gift. Asked for
an example of such away
from a football stadium, the

checkers tournament is the
first thing that comes to
mind.

“When you hate to lose and

you want to win that much, it
creates anxiety in a sense,”
Winovich says. “It’s like, you
want it more than anything
you’ve ever wanted in every
situation.”

And there’s a lot that

Winovich wanted.

***

For what it’s worth, Bill

Cherpak doesn’t think Chase
Winovich is crazy.

But Cherpak knows his

do-it-all
standout
doesn’t

care what anybody thinks of
him. As Winovich’s former
coach at Thomas Jefferson
High School in Jefferson
Hills, Pa., he saw that every
day.

As
a
junior,
Winovich

would
ruin
offensive

practices on the scout team
defense. As a senior, he asked
to be on the kickoff team.

He saw it off the field too

— in a dance contest of all
places.

In December of his senior

year, Winovich participated
in Thomas Jefferson’s fifth
annual “Dancing With the
Athletes” — an event in which
all proceeds were donated to
the Four Diamonds Fund,
a nonprofit that supports
families with children who
have cancer.

As
Cherpak
recalls,

Winovich was “busting his
ass” with his partner to
prepare for a disco rendition
“like Saturday Night Fever.”

The work paid off. To

Cherpak’s best recollection,
Winovich won.

It was just a few months

prior that he won a different
type of battle, too.

Winovich’s older brother

played quarterback, and he
idolized him. So, as Cherpak
recalls,
Winovich
always

wanted a shot to line up
under center.

“And we’re like, ‘Listen,

you’re not a quarterback.
You’re actually horrible at
it.’ ”

Qualified or not, Winovich

was eventually granted his
wish, despite mechanics that
left something to be desired.

“He
thought
he
could

throw,” Cherpak said. “He
really wasn’t that good. He
thought he could. It would
seriously
be
the
ugliest

form.”

When all was said and

done,
though,
Winovich’s

mechanics
didn’t
really

matter. Entering his senior
year at Thomas Jefferson,
Winovich split snaps under
center. Then he won the
starting job.

There
were
games
in

which he’d carry the ball
25 times, and throw once or
twice. Form aside, Winovich
was a leader, and he got the
job done.

“That was him,” Cherpak

said. “He would, like, will
himself to do it even though
he wasn’t skilled at being a
quarterback. ... He just made
plays. He just got it done.
Whatever he had to do, he
was finding a way to get it

FootballSaturday, November 25, 2017
4C

The madness that made Winovich

KEVIN SANTO

Managing Sports Editor

People call Chase Winovich crazy. They say he has screws loose. And frankly, he doesn’t care.

EVAN AARON/Daily

Redshirt junior defensive end Chase Winovich spent two years trying to carve out his role with the Wolverines, but eventually he found his home as Michigan’s starting defensive end.

When you hate

to lose and
want to win
that much, it

creates anxiety

in a sense.

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