I have encountered Eric Montross twice in my life.
One summer afternoon in the early 90’s, I was at the Paul Webb Basketball Camp in Virginia Beach and he was a guest. I don’t remember many details, but I’m sure he spoke to the group of eager campers about lessons he’d learned as a basketball player at UNC. He probably told us to study, eat our Wheaties, practice layups, say our prayers, Just Say No and Just Do It. Then he probably threw down a few dunks, to the campers delight. During the course of his visit, it seemed perfectly normal for me to take off my sweaty basketball sneaker, hand it to Eric accompanied with a Sharpie, have him sign said sneaker and then have him return the sneaker to me. A kid and his shoe, with a fresh autograph from a future NBA journeyman, was a recipe for happiness. These were simple times.