Home Page

Hugging Eric Montross isn't easy. He's tall, as you know. So there's a lot of him to hug, and you're standing on your toes trying to do an adequate job, but you're essentially burying yourself in his shoulder.

But given the news of recent weeks, there was simply no other way to greet him recently. The basketball program announced Montross' cancer diagnosis on March 26, putting someone who tries very hard to never be the story in the uncomfortable position of being the Carolina world's biggest focus for a day. He has quickly accumulated hundreds of unread text messages, and he's getting to them as fast as he can.

There's going to come a time when you hear directly from Eric and Laura, along with their kids Andrew and Sarah. This is not that time. This is essentially just to let you know that they're OK, and they hear you, and your support matters to them.

Their refrigerator is newly decorated with numerous sheets of paper featuring a series of quotes. One is a Bible verse (Philippians 4: 6-7). One is from a Buddhist monk. One is from Ferris Bueller's Day Off (Andrew can take credit for that one). But some, and this is the honest truth, are Twitter replies to the basketball program's announcement about Montross' health.

That support means something. Just like picturing a perfect free throw, the Tar Heel big man is a believer in visualization in this particular battle. One of the pictures on the fridge is a river where Eric and Andrew went fishing last summer after Andrew's MBA graduation from Carolina. "The way I see it," Eric says, "all of these prayers, positive good wishes, all of these good feelings, are going into my river, and they're flowing over all of us and we are so appreciative."

Sarah used the word "brutiful," first coined by Glennon Doyle, to describe what's happening to her dad. It's been brutal to watch him endure the visits to the doctor and the uncertainty and the talk about the upcoming lengthy treatments. But it's been beautiful to watch the response, to be heartened and overwhelmed by how much her dad means to so many people, and to remember—and in today's world, sometimes there aren't enough reminders—that despite occasional evidence to the contrary, humanity can be good. The entirety of the situation, then, has been brutiful.

It just feels hopeful, somehow, to imagine Eric Montross going to his fridge to grab some milk, and pausing to read a Twitter quote of support, or a photo from when a Tar Heel fan met him on one random Tar Heel gameday.

So yes, the family wants you in the river with them. But they're also exceptionally mindful--due largely to extensive charity work with a variety of organizations (they strongly encourage you to find out more about Be Loud! Sophie, the UNCAYA, and, of course, the Montross Father's Day Basketball Camp, and get involved with any of those if you feel so moved) dating back to Eric's time as a Tar Heel player--that there are so many people going through identical fights who don't get as much publicity as big number double-zero.

So they want to ask you a favor. At the same time you're telling your favorite Eric Montross story, think of someone else you know who's going through a similar fight. Someone with a lower public profile, perhaps, but no less importance. And if you're going to take the time to send a tweet or an email or a prayer for Eric Montross (we encourage you to send your favorite story about Eric to the Carolina Insider podcast for a future episode), give that other person a call, too. Maybe it's someone you haven't told how meaningful they are to you. Maybe it's a conversation you just haven't found time for yet, or haven't wanted to because it's awkward to broach an uncomfortable topic. If the Montross family has learned anything in this past week, it's that those conversations matter. Support Big Grits, for sure. But also throw that same effort behind those who might not have earned a national championship ring.

Because of his work with a variety of charities, including the UNC Children's Hospital and Be Loud! Sophie Foundation, Eric knows plenty of other people battling cancer. Since the first day he met Jason Clark as a Tar Heel player, he and his family have been working to make the world where people are fighting cancer daily a better place.

Now, they're entering that world themselves. What they've found is the inhabitants talk about their treatments the same way you and I talk about the weather. Two weekends ago, Eric had a Zoom call with Yash Krishnan, a longtime friend of Carolina basketball who has faced medical challenges his entire life. Yash very matter-of-factly gave Eric very pointed advice about the best way to handle hospital visits, and nurses, and being stuck with needles. Last April, exactly one year ago, Eric was joining Jones Angell on the Tar Heel Sports Network telling us about Carolina's incredible run to New Orleans. This year, he's talking to Yash about IV's.

Understand that you may not get all the specifics of Eric's treatment that you might want. And that's OK. We live in a very public world, where some people think every breath they take should be recorded for posterity. You likely won't be getting that type of coverage from Eric. But be comforted by this: he has what he needs, and he has who he needs. "The day after my biopsy," he says, "my badass oncologist told me, 'It's a beautiful day to smash cancer.'"

That quote, as you might guess, is going on the fridge. Badass oncologist and Ferris Bueller, side by side, two key members of the Montross cancer-fighting team. Also on the fridge: the wrapper from his biopsy needle, signed by the nurses and other members of his treatment team who were at the hospital that day. It's sort of a medical jersey in the rafters. The combination of faith and science is a powerful weapon.

The important thing for you to keep in mind is this, and remember that it is being said by someone who once shot a free throw against Duke in the Smith Center with blood streaming down his face. "I am extraordinarily resolute," Eric said, "that we're going to beat this."

Ask the Blue Devils or the Fab Five what happens when Eric Montross is extraordinarily resolute. Even in the face of a somber diagnosis, he still flashes the humor that has made him so beloved on the radio and at Rams Club meetings and in hospital rooms of complete strangers. But when he says he's going to beat it, there is no smile and the room gets a little quieter and he leaves absolutely no doubt that he is very, very serious.

This will be one of the easiest assignments you've ever had: the best way to help Eric Montross right now is just to cheer for him. The same way you've cheered ever since you've been aware of him, the same way you did back when he had the crew cut and was shooting those hook shots. He has made a career—a life, really—out of taking time for other people. Now he's going to have to let us take some time for him.

Maybe give him a hug, even if it's just metaphorical. Fair warning: you're going to need to stand on your toes.

Fans who want to support the Montross family are encouraged to purchase a family-approved Fight Cancer Big Grits sticker or magnet. Every dollar from the sale of the items, which are being donated by SDS Design, will go, as directed by the Montross family, to the UNC AYA Cancer Program.