After the Final Buzzer
A Champion’s Lessons in Life and Real Legacy
March Madness is at full throttle, kicking off the season of champions that will continue with the best of the NBA and NHL. Every year, greatness is measured in wins.
Eric Montross knew the thrill of victory as a key player on the 1993 University of North Carolina national championship basketball team. He then went on to have a lengthy NBA career and later covered Tar Heel basketball on the radio. The game - his game - put him on the map. But it’s not what made him beloved.
And this is where the glory of winning gives way to the legacy of living well.
With UNC legend Dean Smith as his coach and mentor, Eric visited the North Carolina Children’s Hospital as a player. Visits turned into friendships, and the hospital quickly became his passion project. Eventually, he and his equally wonderful wife, Laura, started an annual Father’s Day basketball camp that has raised more than two million dollars for the hospital.
But for Eric, support meant more than providing a check every year. It was about relationships. He connected with campers and sick kids, taking a genuine interest in them. That was the Montross way. Wherever he went, he stopped to talk or sign an autograph. In the 30 years since the UNC championship, that meant a lot of signatures, conversations, and photos snapped.
Sports journalist Adam Lucas spent 20 years covering UNC basketball with Eric. In a story he wrote about his friend and colleague, Adam recalled, “There may be no one as universally loved in Chapel Hill in so many different ways and in so many different places as Eric Montross. At the Smith Center, sure, where he played on national television so often, and his jersey is in the rafters, and we all think, when we are there, that these two hours when people try to shoot a ball in a hoop are the most important thing that could ever happen.” Lucas continues, “It’s just that he realized, way before the rest of us, that life continued when the lights turned off in the Smith Center. And that’s why he was beloved in a way that normal people aren’t in places far beyond a basketball court.”
So in 2023, when cancer took Eric much too early at 52 years old, it was no surprise that his family received an outpouring of messages and memories from people worldwide. Few of them wrote about Eric’s powerhouse performance that championship season. Instead, most shared memories of the many ways he made them feel like they mattered.
“It was intentional for him to make connections,” Eric’s wife, Laura, explained. “He did that with everybody he met, so they all have an Eric story. The kids and I knew a lot, but since his passing, even we’re surprised at how many people he left an impression on - how he impacted them and made them want to be better people.”
Perhaps part of Eric’s lasting legacy is making us consider who we are beyond the scoreboard or the boardroom. His legacy urges us to consider these things:
What will we be remembered for when the noise of our own lives fades?
Leadership is built on habits and connections. Are our daily habits aligned with the kind of legacy we want to leave?
Great leaders understand that impact outlasts achievement. Are we investing as much in people as we are in performance?
Look for opportunities to connect with someone today. What’s one small intersection that could become part of your legacy?
Eric Montross reminds us that leadership and life aren’t just about championships. They are also about who you are when no one is keeping score. That is where lasting legacies begin.
For more on Eric’s lasting work with North Carolina Children’s Hospital, visit www.montrossbasketballcamp.com and the Be Loud Sophie Foundation that supports young adults with cancer at www.beloudsophie.org.