The Craig Hall Chronicles :: Kiera Grant

She's the only freshman of the eight on the Montana soccer team without a vehicle at her disposal, so we'll need to set Kiera Grant up with something appropriate as she takes us on this journey, from where she's been to where she's going, but what, exactly, fits the player?

Something sleek and fast? Nope, doesn't fit her mentality or play on the field. "I remember the first time I saw her, just being impressed with how physical and strong she is," says Montana coach Chris Citowicki of the 5-foot-8 center back.

"She's not the type of player who wants to drop back and defend. She wants to step forward and hit people further up the field. That aggressive mindset while also being able to play with the ball, that's exactly what we need."

What about the road she's traveled? Maybe that will offer up some guidance, this middle child of Kevin and Shelby, bookended by both older and younger brothers, such a product of her environment that they probably could have seen all of this coming, slowly developing over the last 18 years.

There went Konner, racing out the door of the family home in Tigard, Ore., set to meet up with the neighborhood gang for whatever drew their interest that day, wiffle ball, football, whatever it was as long as it met the required baselines: fun with plenty of competition, always winners and losers.

And there was Kiera, right behind, not knowing and certainly not caring that she was a girl in a boys' world, quickly learning that if there was competition involved, she wanted to be there, just as quickly learning that Title IX did not apply. This was a more local policy based on meritocracy.

No person in this neighborhood shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of or be subjected to discrimination … as long as said person can hold their own and doesn't ruin it for everyone else. In other words, compete with the boys or stay home.

"She was usually pretty outnumbered among girls tagging along, but she wanted in and wanted to be right in the mix," says Kevin, one-fourth of the family's K's, the kids going Konner, Kiera, then Kody. Sorry, Shelby.

"She certainly held her own. It was very organic the way it happened. It wasn't dad or mom trying to get her to join in the fun. It's where she wanted to be, always out tearing up our side yard."

So, let's put her in a Jeep then but not some high-end edition that she doesn't want to scratch. Let's make it a two-door Wrangler with some mileage, no top, doors removed in the summer. That's the vibe that's at play here. That will work.

She slides into the driver's seat and it's what she sees in the rearview mirror that gives her story its structure, not just mileposts she's passed but a pair of moments of such importance that they have become roadside historical markers, personal totems of her tale.

Everyone was going for walks back then, weren't they, the daily escape from the home during COVID when gyms, ballfields and organized sports were put on pause, daily dad and daughter time, but this particular walk was different, memorable for both of them more than five years later.

She'd presented different ideas to her parents over the years. Can we get some baby ducks? Can I play fourth-grade tackle football? This request was not like the others. This one was more serious, more weighty, certainly holding the potential to be farther ranging, impacting all of them in some way.

She'd been all in on soccer for a while once she reached seventh grade, but she was learning there was more out there than what she was experiencing, ECNL for starters, maybe college one day way, way down the road. She wanted more. Would they help her get it?

That's a lot for a girl to lay on her dad on a walk. "That's definitely an anchor moment in my head in terms of her soccer journey for sure," says Kevin, who left the house with a younger version of his daughter and returned with something else.

"I could tell on the walk as we're having this discussion, I could just feel her growing up a little bit."

She no longer wanted to tag along, simply keep up and do what the other kids were doing. She wanted to embark on something larger, something that was hers. She was ready to challenge herself, see where soccer could take her, where she could take herself.

He presented the counterpoints, that she would be leaving her friend group to go off on her own, flying solo in a world that was no longer participation-based but competition-based. Wait, did someone say competition? "She had really thought through a lot of the stuff.

"In the end, it was this really cool moment of her wanting to see how hard she could push herself and take on the next challenge, with a distant eye on, I might want to play in college," says Kevin, who three times in a 30-minute interview mentions that his daughter is "driven." Noted.

He doesn't say it in a prideful way, like it's his doing, instead more reverential, like it was a gift his daughter has been blessed with and it has been his responsibility to help her nurture it.

She drives us a bit further down the road, down this soccer journey she's been on, and we see what happened when she brought her talents to the ECNL level, with Crossfire United, then Northwest Elite, then Oregon Surf, the same organization undergoing frequent name changes.

It was Kevin's first ah-ha moment, that his daughter was where she was supposed to be.

"She was starting new and playing against higher competition. Early in the process, seeing her step into a leadership role, wearing the captain band was just very cool," he says. "And then being vocal. As young girls are maturing, there can be some hesitancy, but she went right into it."

There are other things to see on this journey, but it's the second roadside monument that has our eye, up ahead, down the road. It's overshadowing everything else, something we need to get to and check out before we can hold our focus on anything else. It's that important.

It happened last fall, long after she went all in on Montana and long after the Grizzlies went all in on her, but nothing had been made official yet, nothing had been signed and would they still want her if she wasn't the Kiera Grant they had so fallen for?

Her ACL was torn, a non-contact injury, leaving both micro and macro concerns in its wake, the immediate being the tending to her physical and emotional needs, this heretofore mostly unbreakable player now being told she was being sidelined by this scourge of so many soccer players.

But the macro was hanging out there, the sword of Damocles overhead. The day passed. Everyone slept, none of them restfully. The next day arrived, the one when they would have to call Montana, let them know the news, signing day just weeks away, and what would this mean?

"It was a really anxious time," says Kevin. "It was a mixed battle, tending to her, wrapping our arms around her and getting her taken care of after a significant injury. Then 1B, we had to be honest with ourselves, about how this could impact some things. We didn't really know what to expect."

Neither dad nor daughter mention it, but it's easy to picture, isn't it, pulling up the name Chris Citowicki on the phone, finger hovering over the CALL button, then setting the phone down time and time again, knowing it had to be done but did it have to be done right now?

"When we were prepping to make the call, there was a little bit of a lump in our throats in terms of what the response would be on the other side, two to three weeks away from NLI time," says Kevin.

They all remembered what the initial call with Citowicki had been like, when Montana and player made first contact.

"He blew us away with his first outreach and every other call he ever had with my daughter," says Kevin. "That first one really set the tone. Wow. I don't know what other places we'll end up looking at, but I don't know if it will feel like that."

What would it feel like now? What kind of coach would be on the other end, the this-is-a-business coach who couldn't take the risk? Sorry but we need to move on and look elsewhere. Or the same one who had made that initial call and how could that possibly be the case? Nobody could be that positive.

Finally, the call was made. "We told him the situation we were in, that she'd be limping into your program literally," says Kevin, before Citowicki cut down the sword and gently lifted the weight of the world off their shoulders.

This isn't the first time this has happened and it won't be the last, he told them. Here are the resources she'll have available as we get her back to full health. This doesn't change anything on our end. The opportunity is still here and we're still excited about what she can do in this program.

Then something amazing happened. The coach, who should have been blindsided by the news, should have been reeling, had the wherewithal to ask Kevin and Shelby how they were doing, ask if they needed anything.

"This is probably pretty stressful for you guys. How can we be there for you? That kind of blew us away. That's a conversation I don't think we'll ever forget," says Kevin. "There was an authenticity to it. The heart he showed us and our daughter was fantastic. We came off the call a little emotional."

It's his nature, in his human wiring, to handle it that way, to put the needs of others above his own. But as a coach, he's also learned the long-lasting benefit of holding someone's hand through the toughest of times, knowing when he finally lets go, that girl will go forth and return the investment 10 times over.

"I think that's what bonds us so much. Oh, these people actually care about me, so their sense of buy-in goes even higher," says Citowicki. "You take care of me when I'm down? Don't worry, when I come back, I'm going to crush it for you."

She's taken us in the Jeep to those two important monuments, then she does a 180, lays down a little rubber – she is a center back after all, you know how they roll – and takes us back, shows us the less noteworthy but still important mileposts that we missed along the way.

Growing up with those brothers, tagging along with their friends, guided by a mom who was a soccer goalkeeper, by a dad who knew sports were the key to staying present in his kids' lives.

"My love of sports definitely comes from him," says Kiera. "Then growing up with two brothers, we were always doing something active. We're doing wiffle ball in our side yard after school. We're doing football. I grew up a tomboy. I don't think anyone thought anything of it."

They did when she said in fourth grade, I think I want to try organized tackle football. "I coached and was on the board. I wasn't reluctant from a safety standpoint," says Kevin. "It was more, she was starting to come into her own with soccer. Do you want to kick the tires for a year with football?"

She did, one of two girls in the league that season, now part of family lore. It wasn't just fun, there were lessons that were taken away, the mindset she needed on the football field blending naturally right back into the soccer field, particularly at her chosen position.

"Her being a defender and taking on the ownership of tracking down that girl running down the middle, you versus them, one on one, sometimes getting knocked down, then that awesome part of getting back up," says Kevin. "Football helped her story in that way."

Her mom had tried her at goalkeeper. She needed to run more. She tried forward but it didn't fit her personality. Defender? Oh yeah, that's right in her wheelhouse, same as when she tried basketball. Scoring? Eh, not so much. Defending, rebounding, diving on the floor? Check, check and check.

"I have always loved 1-v-1 tackles," she says about the elements of her position that get her the most juiced. "It's always been my favorite thing, having that intense battle with a forward. It's competitive and you've got to be intense. You're the last one back.

"I also love heading. Any ball in the air, I'm going to put a head on it and get it out. Those two are my favorites."

We reach that first monument again, The Walk and all it led to, including Kevin's second enlightenment a few years later, after he'd seen his daughter step into leadership position after leadership position. Now she was showing out, at a tournament in Florida, in front of what felt like the rest of the world.

Because it was across the country and because the boys had their own things going on, both parents were in Oregon that weekend, only able to have things relayed secondhand. "We heard from some parents and some coaches that she kind of put on a show, had the game of her life," says Kevin.

It's how things happen in the recruiting world before official contact can be made: A generic invitation to attend one of Montana's summer camps gets emailed, a follow is made on Instagram. An informal and above-board way of saying – without actually saying it – WE LIKE YOU.

She's a beach girl, according to her dad, so her focus was south, on schools in California, but he'd been to Montana and Missoula not long before, bringing Konner to a Grizzly football camp, hoping to catch the eye of a coach.

"Through that process, I got to visit campus and see the facilities, see the college town. I was blown away," says Kevin. "Beautiful, very recreational, then for a father sending his daughter to school, I thought it would be a very safe environment for her.

"I told her, I'd take that call, at least explore the opportunity. I think you'd really like it there."

Okay, dad, I'll give them a chance. Citowicki reached out the first day he could, June 15, set up a call. He'd be her second. Then he got bumped up to first. No other school, it turned out, had much of a chance. And why can't we hear what goes on during those calls? What makes them so WOW?

"His call was amazing. Chris is such a good human and you get that vibe through the phone," she says. "He was my first call and it was … wow. I had another call after Chris and it was nothing compared to that. It didn't really feel the same. I told my parents, I'm feeling good about this."

Kevin adds, "He had a plan for her and how she'd fit in the program. You could kind of see it in a map in your head. It was a game-changer."

A visit was set up. A visit was made. A girl was blown away. She wanted to commit there, on the spot. "My parents were, wait until we get home, let the adrenaline wear off. Then you can decide. It was maybe two days later, no, I'm doing this. One of the coolest calls ever," she says.

You have yet to see Kiera Grant play in a Montana uniform. You see her, on the team but not on the field, and your mind might tag her as "that injured girl." Be careful. That's when she gets a little defiant, a little defensive. Not in a surly way, but she will correct you on it.

"I'm more than my injury. There is more to me as a person and a player than that," she says, making a stand like she has probably had to do dozens if not hundreds of times when someone insists on breaking her first name into three syllables. It's KEER-ah, just KEER-ah. Don't make it into something it's not.

Her dad remembers after his daughter's injury, after the high school season, when she proved it, showed that she wasn't "that injured girl," that there was more depth to her than could ever be defined on a soccer field.

Given time she would have devoted to soccer, she threw herself into Future Business Leaders of America. She joined classmates to raise funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, the biggest fundraiser on the chapter that itself raised the most funds.

Please, please do not try to define her by her injury. "She is not going to sit by. She is going to try to make herself or things around her better," says Kevin. "That makes me pretty proud as her dad."

She's been watching from the sideline since arriving in Missoula in July, death for someone who loves competing, but it hasn't been time wasted. She's quietly been taking it all in, storing it for future application. This is how we set up for corner kicks. This is how we like to press.

Ally Henrikson, who has few peers when it comes to, well, pretty much anything, called Grant early on, told her of her own travails, of coming back from her own ACL injury, how she encountered setback after setback before eventually being able to bask in the full light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel.

Reeve Borseth, Hayley Bass, now Kayla Rendon Bushmaker, they're all part of the same club, each with a different release date.

The players on the field? That's the thing about soccer, it spares no one. Each one of them has dealt with something at some time that has taken soccer away. Even if not for an ACL length of time, they all know what it feels like to be sitting out, wondering if the team even remembers your name.

They do, they totally do. She's over on the sideline, doing rehab, and they're cheering her on? "It's made a world of difference," says Kevin. "I can't compliment those girls enough. It goes back to Chris and the roster he's put together and the character piece."

She won't play this fall, banking the season as a learning experience, knowing she'll get a full spring, then be back next fall with four years to play, the next great Griz center back.

"The speed of play is quicker but that's a jump every freshman has to make. It's more intense on the field," she says. "It's something I've always admired about the Griz, the strength the back line has. Looking forward to being part of that one day."

One day she thinks she might be a nurse, motivated by her own injury and care she received, these strangers who showed her uncommon kindness and grace, who made something so traumatic more bearable.

Before that, though, she is going to do exactly as Citowicki predicted, give back to the program that stuck by her, that said, we'll be awaiting your return, whenever that is, with open arms. If she was a terror on the field before, just imagine what she's going to give the Grizzlies going forward.

"The way she's recovering and the energy and the presence that she is for this team, it's really impressive," says Citowicki. "She is so hungry to play, so willing and ready to prove herself. That's the exciting thing.

"I know who she was as a player and I can tell she's even hungrier now than she was before. She's one of the top players in that class and people don't even know it. They might not even know she's in the program. There is a surprise coming for everybody when it's time."

University of Montana Athletics

Players Mentioned

Hayley Bass

Reeve Borseth

Kiera Grant

Ally Henrikson

Kayla Rendon Bushmaker

Related Videos