The making of Anna Cockhill

The father came first, put this all in motion, the marriage of that name, Cockhill, the one with the embedded attitude, to the Montana Grizzlies, a receiver and returner in the early 90s, undersized at 5-foot-8, maybe reaching 170 pounds by the time he was a senior but with a locker full of Butte-ness and all that means, courtesy of his father's side of the family, and a mind for the game that naturally led him into coaching after he'd caught his final pass, then the program's leader in career receiving yards.

Bill Cockhill, who went directly from playing to coaching, was there in 1995, in West Virginia, the program's restricted-earnings receivers coach on Don Read's staff, when Montana won the national championship, its first. He was there, again, in 2001, in Tennessee, now the offensive coordinator, now for Joe Glenn, when the Grizzlies added a second, his run with the program, from playing to coaching, mostly uninterrupted success for nearly a decade and a half.

It goes deeper than that if you want to dig, his dad earning a graduate degree from the school, the family, based in Helena, one of the few to purchase season tickets when the Grizzlies were still playing at Dornblaser Stadium, the pre-Read days, the pre-Washington-Grizzly Stadium days, when a family could arrive on that side of town 15 minutes before game time and not miss the opening kick, later leaving with new stripes of green on the backside of their pants from the painted wooden bleachers.

He'd decamp for Laramie and the University of Wyoming after the 2002 season, serving as the Cowboys' offensive coordinator for five seasons before program and coach broke up, leaving Bill Cockhill, he and Jenise, a UM grad herself, now the parents of two children under the age of four, Eric and Anna, at a critical juncture. Coaching or family? Family or coaching? It was a question he viewed as a binary decision, nothing gray, nothing middle ground about it. All in on one or all in on the other?

He was there, at Helena in May, when Anna, then a senior at Capital High, stepped up to the plate in the bottom of the eighth inning in the state championship game and ripped the pitch into right field, the ball getting through the right fielder, daughter showing off some of her dad's (former) sub-4.4 speed and going first, second, third and home, just under the catcher's tag, to give the Bruins a dramatic walk-off state championship.

He could have thought back to all those years coaching her on the Helena Halos, this sport he picked up as he went along, his passion to learn it and coach it matching her desire to play it, to all those extra evening sessions when it was just him and her, father and daughter, alone at a field, him soft-tossing, her hitting, him pounding out ground ball after ground ball, her vacuuming them up from her position at shortstop. It's what he won by choosing family: time.

"I got super lucky with my dad. He put in just as much time as I did to help me grow my game. He was always willing to do more, but he never made me do it," says Anna, now a freshman on the Grizzly softball team. "It was always, if you want to go do it, I'd love to help. He never made me do anything, which is why I think I wanted to keep going with it. I did it because I wanted to."

He was there, at St. Paul in October, when Eric, now a junior at Concordia, sparked the Cobbers to a 41-7 win when he opened the game with a 92-yard kickoff return for a touchdown, the receiver and returner earning honorable mention All-Minnesota Intercollegiate Athletic Conference honors at season's end.

He could have thought back to all those years coaching him, just the two of them on a patch of grass, teaching him about the intricacies of route-running, how to find soft spots against a zone or beat a defender who's playing man-to-man, how to catch different types of passes, how to take a five-yard out and turn it into a 25-yard gain, his own specialty playing for the Grizzlies, coaching Eric those four years at Capital High, when he was able to return to the essence of the job.

"When I started coaching fifth- and sixth-grade football, the players didn't even know what a huddle was. It was a different world and really changed me for the better," he says. Soon he was following Eric to the high school level, offering what the head coach was willing to accept. "It was great. Loved coaching high school kids. Nothing better. That's when they all want to play and most of them aren't going past high school. They just want to be the best player they can be. Very rewarding stuff."

He could have thought back to that decision he made in 2007, the one to leave college coaching, to return to Helena, to invest not in work as much as his kids. He could, but he hasn't had time. He's been having too much fun. "It took about four months for me to figure out it was the best decision I ever made," he says of that time following the 2007 college football season. "It was time for me to move on, make a new path with our family."

But those national championships, what about those? What about being in the spotlight, part of a high-profile program? What about the attention it afforded you? "Bottom line, by far, no matter what, it's always your kids. You want the best for them. The national championships, they were amazing and a lot of fun personally and professionally. I loved those guys and the coaches I was with, but any parent will tell you it's always about their kid. It means more."

That's why she's here, at the school she grew up to love, because of him, because of the time he invested and because of those certain things he passed down, those traits that made him so un-guardable as a receiver, an all-state sprinter at Capital High, an all-around athlete.

"She might be a freshman, but she's a bulldog out there," says Cockhill's first-year coach, Stef Ewing. "The first thing we did as a team (in the fall) was in the weight room. We tested their running times. Anna was one of the first people to run. As soon as she did her sprint and her time was read off, everyone was like, what?

"Then we go into the weight workout and you see how much weight she is moving. You just know she's an athlete. She works hard day in and day out and gives you absolutely everything. She knows how to do things one way and that's at 100 percent, full speed. Any teammate, when they see that, immediately gains respect for that person. That's what she did from the moment she stepped on campus."

Her dad almost didn't step foot on campus, his football prospects limited to Carroll and Montana Tech … and maybe Montana? Don Read made a home visit, left without extending an offer. So, what was Cockhill supposed to say a week later when the Griz coaching staff called and said, quit stalling. Either commit or we're moving on to someone else.

"Well, it's hard to commit when nobody's offered me," he says today. "They were like, what!? So, they offered me right there. I committed on the phone. I wanted to play at the University of Montana so bad. I was a big-time Grizzly growing up in my family."

He redshirted in 1989, when Montana had its breakthrough season under Read, going 11-3 and making the national semifinals. He made the lineup the next season and never left it, catching passes and returning punts, outperforming his size every play he was on the field.

"I was successful because of my mental ability and my toughness and willingness to do what was needed," he says. "I wasn't the biggest guy, but back then, none of us were in the four-wide offense. We had a lot of talented kids playing and a quarterback who could distribute the ball better than anybody ever in Dave Dickenson, let's be honest about that. He made us all look pretty damn good."

He went from being Shalon Baker, Scott Gurnsey and Matt Wells' friend and teammate one season to their position coach the next, in 1994, his first of three as one of Montana's restricted-earnings coaches, a term that would get you laughed at in the modern era, when nothing anymore about collegiate athletics is restricted. "That was a different dynamic but everyone handled it great. They understood the job I had to do," he says.

He was still living like his teammates, making $3,000 his first year, then $6,000 and then $9,000 in his third in that role before officially joining the staff in a full-time capacity in 1997. "You get by with your parents helping you, roommates and finding a way. You scrounge just like you did as a college student because you were basically still that."

By 2000 he was Montana's offensive coordinator, a position he later held at Wyoming from 2003 to '07, when he was forced out and took the road less traveled, choosing family and stability over the pursuit of a college-coaching career. "I was burned out and didn't want to keep going. I had felt like that for a couple of years. We had two kids and I would rather coach them than not be around. It was time to make a break," he says.

He allowed Eric and Anna to make their own way, pursue their own interests, father coming first, but the coach in him was always there, right below the surface, ready to step in as needed to provide the type of guidance few of their teammates could get.

He figures Anna was maybe eight, playing at a 10U softball tournament in Anaconda, and she couldn't get herself to swing the bat when she stepped up to the plate. Okay, kind of a deal-breaker for a non-pitcher. Maybe this wasn't for her. The rains arrived, a delay was announced and father and daughter retreated to their car for an honest conversation. They were, after all, not there to take home a participation ribbon.

"I said, hey, you can't play softball if you're afraid to swing the bat," he told her. "Either get it done or we're going home. If you don't want to get going, we can find another sport. This is the reality of sports and competition." What he did, knowing his daughter and what she needed to hear, something he'd done for 14 years as a football coach, was light a match. In her first at-bat after the rain delay, she laced a double down the line. "After that, she took control of it. She became competitive and really took to it."

Anna adds, "I think him being a football coach and giving me that extra push was a big help growing up. I definitely got that hard-working gene from my dad. Whether he coached me growing up or not, I don't see the point of doing a workout at half speed or half energy. Listening to him, that's how he played and how he coached, so he kind of passed that on to me."

(Quick aside: Is she the first Griz softball player to have a black belt in taekwondo? She grew up loving the Lego show Ninjago, the one with ninjas, and, mom and dad, could she do that? So, it was daily training and off to Seattle, Las Vegas, Utah for competitions. While doing this interview, a college-aged guy walked by. Did she think she could take him? She was coy and modest in her reply. "I can take care of myself." So intriguing!)

The family's stability and the neighborhood in which she grew up in Helena allowed her to form a peer group (hello, Riley, Taylor and Kathryn!) that would go from kids to girls to young women, in sports and friendship. Along the way: 14U and 16U state championships with the Helena Halos.

But for all the benefits of being raised in Helena and in Montana, in the larger world of softball, especially for someone who had eyes on playing collegiately, it was a detriment. Because what even did her slash line as a junior at Capital High of .471/.598/.871/1.469 with six home runs, 26 RBIs and 23 stolen bases even mean as it relates to being able to play at the Division I level? It meant nothing more than a mere suggestion that maybe she could play a little bit, but she'd have to actually prove it.

"We were told if she didn't play on the national stage, she wasn't going to get recruited," says Bill. They got in touch with Wayne Miller, head of the high-level Washington Ladyhawks, who told the family he would be happy to evaluate her at a University of Washington camp. He watched her for two days and offered her a position, Miller becoming, outside of Cockhill's dad, the most important person in getting her from there (dream) to here (reality).

More investment. During the travel-ball season, a couple of weekends per month, father and daughter would get up early on Saturday morning, drive to Missoula, catch a flight to Seattle, be there for Saturday evening and Sunday morning practices, fly back and be in Helena by Sunday evening. Dreams are great. The actual pursuit of them can be a bit daunting.

"Softball in Montana is not as advanced as it is in places like California, mainly the pitching," says Cockhill, whose speed and defense fit in immediately at the highest levels of travel ball. She could go to the batting cage and set it to 65 miles per hour, but that's nothing like the real thing. That's the area she needed to up her game.

"It's different off a machine than a real arm. It's not the same. Quicker bat speed helps but mostly it's just experiencing it. The more you see it, the more you get used to it. And the way pitchers spin it is completely different than what I was used to. The more you see it, the more normal it becomes. I went from 58 max in Montana to 67, 68. My first big travel-ball tournament, it was like, whoa, this is the level you have to get to." And over time, she got there.

Finally, Montana took notice. Finally, the Grizzlies expressed interest. Didn't they know the family's connection to the school? Didn't they know the stories, how the Cockhills joined some other families at a football tailgate years ago and paid for an appearance by Montana's mascot? How Monte was playing catch with the enthusiastic kids and this little tyke with the big arm rocketed the football right where the guy in the mascot outfit didn't want to get hit, how he was down and out and had to call it a day?

"Anna wrote him an apology letter that we sent to him," says Bill, laughing still at the memory. There is no word on how that particular Monte ended up faring. "Playing for the University of Montana was big for her. She grew up a Grizzly."

She had other college options, was seriously considering them, then made her visit to Missoula, saw how close to home it was, how close to family she could be, how she could team up with some fellow Washington Ladyhawks. She realized she wanted that proximity to family more than she had previously recognized. Family had meant everything forever. Why did she think she could just set that aside now?

"I didn't know I wanted to come here until after my visit," she says. "It was close to my family and friends. The support system here was just unmatched. I'm a homebody. I need my parents, so I needed to stay close to them."

Her dad's advice: Be happy with the school, be happy with the area, be happy with the players you'll be teammates with. Noticeably missing from his list was any mention of the school's coaches and that was by design, experience in the profession from someone who used to be in it. He knew as well as anyone a coach could be here one day, gone the next, so don't make your decision solely or even largely on the coach. Make it a composite decision.

She committed after Montana went through a 10-37 season in 2023, watched from a distance as the Grizzlies finished 17-33 last spring, the team's second consecutive last-place finish in the Big Sky, then it was announced in May that the program would be undergoing a change in leadership.

"We knew that was a possibility, but she wanted to be here," says Bill. "There is a real comfort level for Anna. She loves the program, loves the people, loves the town. It was nerve-racking. I prepared her for that from my own knowledge of things, what to be ready for. She just said, this is where I want to be, so it doesn't matter. She was real mature about that.

"We assumed it would be a great person and they hired a great person. I think the program's in good hands."

That would be Ewing, whose arrival in this story grabs us from the past and brings us to the present and the future, because she's all of it, setting the course and making it happen. It wasn't long after she was hired that a number popped up on her phone. It was Anna Cockhill, letting her new coach, who had never seen her play, know when and where she would be playing in Southern California this past summer.

It was a bold move made by a confident player, someone who wasn't going to sit back and wait until the fall to insert herself into her new coach's mind and into her plans for the season – and seasons – ahead.

"At that point in time, I had no idea the family background at the University of Montana," says Ewing, who first watched Cockhill play in Chino Hills on a sweat-dripping day. "That family bleeds for the University of Montana. I could sense that the minute I met her mom. When you meet people who are proud Montanans and love the University of Montana, there is a different aura when they talk about this place."

But could she play, this girl from Montana who was competing that day for the Ladyhawks? Pride was one thing. Being a baller was another. Her first at-bat of the day? Double, Cockhill now totally comfortable facing the best pitchers in the nation. "Then she trots out to shortstop. Okay, we've got ourselves a ballplayer here. There is no doubt about that."

Ewing was soaking wet but hardly noticed because she was so smitten. "As a coach, you get your wheels going once you see what you're going to get. She's a five-tool player, great arm, great speed, good game sense, high softball IQ, can swing it for average, can swing it for power. Those types of players aren't easy to find."

When Ewing was the head coach at Cal State San Marcos, her previous job, she had season tickets for the San Diego Padres. That gave her a nightly seat – when he wasn't injured or, ahem, out for other reasons – to watch the graceful yet powerful brilliance of Fernando Tatis, Jr., the type of player who makes a difficult game look easy with his athleticism and skillset.

"I tell Anna all the time that she reminds me of (him). He's another five-tool player. Big arm, super athletic, really fast, can hit for power, can hit for average, can play anywhere on the field. Anna Cockhill is the same thing. She just loves to be out there. She is entertaining because of the plays she makes. How did she do that? When she takes four steps, it's a blur. You don't even see them. She's very explosive, just dynamic out there."

She wears No. 9 but you can just put her down as 1-6 for the rest of her career. Batting leadoff and playing shortstop … Anna Cockhill! "It's not very often you see a freshman come in and bat leadoff right away," says Ewing. "We put her in that spot in our first fall game and I think she went 4 for 4. She was on base every time. It was crazy."

And terrifying for the opponent. "She makes things happen. She's a playmaker. She can stretch a single into a double, a double into a triple. She can be an automatic double when she gets on first base because she is going to steal second. And she can probably steal third too."

Beyond shortstop being an important position in general, it's a position of some honor and tradition at Montana. For four years, Delene Colburn held it down. She was followed by Maygen McGrath, who started at short the next four years. The first eight years of the program, two shortstops, the only two all-region players in program history. No pressure, Anna!

"I don't think too much about that," says Cockhill, who is way too equanimous for a freshman, especially one now only a week out from making her collegiate debut against Colgate and Northern Illinois at Grand Canyon's tournament in Phoenix.

"We're going to roll her right out there. She is someone who will be in the lineup day in and day out for the entire length of her career here," says Ewing. "She is dynamic in what she does but also quiet about it. She's so good at staying level-headed. She'll tell you, I'm just doing my job. She doesn't ever let anything get to her head or let the moment get too big. If she feels any pressure, she doesn't show it.

"It's just softball to her. That can be hard for a lot of players when they jump from high school to college and the game gets faster and the players get stronger. For her, it's just softball. She hasn't skipped a beat. We'll take 10 more Anna Cockhills any day of the week."

The father came first and put all this in motion, this connection between Cockhill and Grizzlies. Interesting thing about that name, the one embedded with all that attitude. It's probably of English origin, a place-name associated with a particular location across the pond from so many generations ago.

But there is another theory, that it comes from the old French word cokille, meaning shell or cockle. It's what people back then attached to their clothing or hat as a sign that they were embarking on a pilgrimage.

How fitting as this team joins Ewing in starting their own journey, back to the land of championship trophies and postseason celebrations. The seniors? They'll be just as much a part of it this season, a large part of it, as anyone, but then they will step aside and send everyone younger on their way forward. The juniors will get more of it, the sophomores even more. The freshmen, like Cockhill? They've got everything to look forward to, a seemingly endless road ahead with no boundaries.

More than a mere pilgrimage, it's more of a take-no-prisoners crusade. "When I was on the phone with Stef for the first time, she said we're both going to be freshmen. She assured me we were going to figure this out together," says Cockhill. "I want to help rebuild this program and have it be a championship-contending team again."

Bill Cockhill? He'll be in Phoenix, just like he was in the Midwest multiple times last fall, chasing Eric from game to game. He does it because this is the reward for the investment he made, of choosing family over the career ladder, of putting self aside for the dreams being chased by Eric and Anna. But he also knows the payoff, at least the sports-related part of it, comes with an end, no matter how long he'd love it to keep going. "It's going to end at some point and we want to make sure we're part of it," he says.

University of Montana Athletics

Players Mentioned

Anna Cockhill

Related Videos