NEW YORK — There's so much I had forgotten I never knew about Earl Monroe, I'm sorry to admit.
By this time, you would expect I had him down fairly cold . . . considering I first caught Black Jesus' supernatural act at Winston-Salem State in 1966 when I was stationed downstate at Fort Bragg, N.C., . . . above all, because we developed a friendship in 1973 (when I jumped leagues, switching from covering my beloved ABA Nets to the Knicks beat) that has remained faithfully untainted.
There has not been a single instance where I've reached out to Earl for assistance regarding a personal project or a charity that he hasn't been there for me. Not once. Not ever.