‘When you get greatness’: Perfect mix of hard work, flair takes EWU alum Colin Cowherd to Radio Hall of Fame

A small, informal poll of students who were at Eastern Washington University in the early 1980s reveals this consensus: The young Colin Cowherd was clearly different, and in possession of the stuff to make him a success wherever his life led.
Cowherd looks back now and sees his years at EWU as fundamental to his Hall of Fame broadcasting career, even though he recalled himself as “a handful,” and “young and aggressive and cocky.”
It turns out those are qualities often embraced when a person earns a position behind a microphone.
“When he was at Eastern, he was just a step above other students. He did what he did on the next level,” friend Tim Kelleher said. “When you have that kind of drive and talent, that combination, that’s when you get greatness.”
While Kelleher and others in Cowherd’s cohort at EWU could detect early hints of greatness, their predictions were validated in October when Cowherd was inducted into the Radio Hall of Fame, while also winning a prestigious Marconi Award from the National Association of Broadcasters for being Network/Syndicated Personality of the Year.
Cowherd may not have targeted such specific accolades as a student in Cheney, but he was certain, even then, that he was working toward being the success he eventually became.
He just wasn’t sure how he’d get there.
• • •
Age 61, youthful and fit, Cowherd hasn’t lost any exuberance for his profession, nor his willingness to voice perspectives counter to popular opinions.
He’s found on Fox Sports Radio and Fox Sports 1, simulcasting 15 hours of live content a week on his show, “The Herd with Colin Cowherd.”
Having spent 40 years broadcasting across the country, including national gigs with ESPN, Cowherd said he wasn’t surprised with the Hall of Fame honor.
“I figured I’d put the years in at a pretty high level,” he said. “Not that I thought I deserved it, but I wasn’t shocked when I was nominated. But the Marconi caught me off guard.”
Asked about his on-air style, he cited a personal rule against trying to define himself.
“That’s up to the listeners,” he said. “I don’t ever want to say, ‘Well, this is what I am‘; that’s up to you. I think I’m a lot of different things to a lot of people, and however I land, I’m comfortable with it.”
Here’s what AI has to say: “(Cowherd) is known for his opinionated and bold takes, which often blend sports with cultural commentary on topics like politics and race, and have frequently drawn both praise and controversy.”
Sounds fair.
Greg Toohey, executive producer of Cowherd’s show, offered his take on his popularity.
“Colin is so unique because he’s an incredible storyteller,” Toohey said. “He’s the best in the business at being able to weave a topic into a story or an analogy that people can really relate to.”
Much to his credit, Cowherd is not a screamer, and obviously does his homework. He is often controversial, sometimes contrarian, so you won’t always agree with him, but he’s well-informed, highly sourced, and not one to rely on hysterical knee-jerk responses. As a result, you’re not having to listen to his sports debates with balled-up fists.
He also makes admirable efforts toward accountability, having a regular Monday segment reviewing previous proclamations that were proven right or wrong.
The only time he gets disappointed with himself, he said, is when he’s indifferent or doesn’t trust his instincts, or only “goes halfway.” Indifference never has been a Cowherd quality.
After graduating from EWU, Cowherd was stunned to land a job in Las Vegas that, in addition to his many other duties, allowed him to broadcast one inning per game of Triple-A baseball, beating out a legion of other candidates he believed to number in the hundreds.
Years later, he called the boss to ask why he was chosen.
“He said, ‘You had so much confidence, we figured we would mold you into what we wanted you to be. ‘ “
Cowherd said that was a surprise, because he saw himself as “such a disaster as a kid.”
“I didn’t know much, but I knew this was what I was going to do,” he said. “I have a company now, and I hire people, and one of the things I look for is somebody full of energy, full of passion.”
• • •
Confidence, yes, never a scant commodity. Passion, either.
Passionate confidence can seem foreign to some.
Greg Lee, former sports editor of The Easterner school newspaper, said he had a memorable first impression of Cowherd.
“I was really struck by his obnoxious personality,” said Lee, a longtime Spokesman-Review sports reporter. But Lee quickly saw another side. “He had a charming way with people. He was fun to work with.”
Cowherd had no objection to Lee’s initial impression.
“Poor Greg, he had to work with me,” Cowherd said of his time at The Easterner. “I was full of piss and vinegar, and cocky. He’s right, I was young and aggressive and cocky.”
From tiny Ocosta High in Westport, Cowherd played quarterback and point guard, so his love of sports was ingrained, and he was already being shaped by the great broadcasters of the time.
He has no trouble tracing the roots of his motivations to succeed.
“I just think I was a very willful kid,” he said. “A child of divorce, alcoholic father, all those kind of fear-initiating realities of a young boy’s life – rural, not a lot of money. By the time I got to Eastern, that was a lot of jet fuel for me.”
His capacity for narrative weaving is obvious in that telling self-revelation. Those circumstances could be fuel for anybody. But jet fuel is higher octane. More combustible.
“I understand if I offended people,” he said, “I just wasn’t going to be stopped, and I didn’t care. I can remember at Eastern, there were junior and senior broadcasters, and I knew I was going to have a better career. And I didn’t have a problem plowing through other people. I guess that’s the duality of having a strong personality, sometimes you’re not as coachable as you should be or you’re not amenable to changes.”
He was certain to credit the efforts and influence of his instructors at EWU.
“I listened to anybody who could help me.”
And much of the rest, he taught himself.
• • •
Kelleher has a story about the level of Cowherd’s initiative.
“We had been off for the summer, and when we came back for the beginning of senior year, we were just shooting (the breeze), you know, ‘What did you do this summer?’ And Colin said, ‘Well, I watched 200 hours of Dodgers games.’ “
Cowherd explained that he watched them first with the sound off, supplied his own spontaneous play-by-play, and then ran the video back, and listened to how Vin Scully did it, like getting a private tutorial from the greatest.
Cowherd said that he often would go to the apartment of a neighbor, Jim McElwain, who was the Eagles’ quarterback and future college football coach. As McElwain watched games, Cowherd did voice-over broadcasts imitating top announcers, like Howard Cosell.
“I’ve just always had a strong sense of what I wanted to be,” Cowherd said “When I was a kid, I loved Howard Cosell. I knew he was polarizing.”
Initially, Cowherd wanted to be a newspaper columnist.
“I think I view myself more as a columnist than a broadcaster. A columnist has to have a strong opinion. You hopefully have done your homework, you add your perspective, and you may have a theory that’s not proven, but is worth considering.”
Appreciating insightful perspectives and creative delivery, Cowherd can still quote funny lines from columns by legendary Spokesman-Review sports columnist John Blanchette.
Verbatim. From 40 years ago.
• • •
Acquaintances who watch Cowherd, now, see in him so many of the qualities of the young man they knew at EWU. It suggests he’s been true to himself from Cheney all the way to the Hall of Fame.
“Even with all of his successes, he’s remarkably kind and an easygoing guy,” Kelleher said.
“I never knew what he would eventually do,” Lee said. “But he was always so passionate, and that goes through everything he does. He’s knowledgeable. He knows his stuff. He’s a grinder and does his work. He was a lot of fun to be around. He’s never been a middle-of-the-road kind of guy.”
Clearly, Cowherd eventually tamed those fear-initiating realities, and focused his aggressiveness toward shaping his opinions to suit his broadcasts.
“I think Colin’s longevity really comes down to sticking with what’s made him successful,” Toohey said. “He doesn’t try to change the formula. We have a great two-hour prep meeting every day where he and the staff build the show together. He constantly challenges us to find different or unique angles that people haven’t heard elsewhere.”
Toohey said that the Cowherd on the show is exactly the same as the off-air Cowherd.
“People always come up to him in public, whether they agree or disagree with something he’s said, (and) he genuinely loves to strike up a conversation with them.”
Cowherd has worked with colleagues who graduated from the great broadcasting/journalism schools in the nation, and he’s never regretted his time at EWU.
“I had a more chaotic young life, and less linear,” he said. “I think that created a kind of toughness, maybe a coarseness, which is why, in my 20s, I was difficult. There was a desperation. I think that desperation lives with me today.”
He asked his wife, Ann, in recent years if she thought he should try to find a more even work/life balance.
“She had a funny line,” he said. “She said ‘You’re balanced – you have a chip on both shoulders.’ “
The chips are still there, and it keeps the jet fuel in the motivational tank.
“It’s just always makes me work harder.”