True story.
My Mum moved down to London from Manchester when she was 18 to train to be a nurse. Her family all went to Old Trafford every game, when working class men could afford such things - the Busby Babes, Duncan Edwards (greatest footballer ever to live according to grandad), Law, Charlton & Best etc, were gods to them. I took my grandad to WHL and QPR to watch ManU when he came down to London to see us and he always told me he knew Bobby Charlton.
Anyways, when I was c17 I was caddying in a golf pro-am and I got my Mum a free ticket cos she wanted to see Clint Eastwood or Ronnie Corbett, one of the two. I was on the putting green with my employer (a rich fat American amateur), and she was watching me for no reason, when Bobby Charlton walked by. My Mum shouted 'Bobby, Bobby' at him and, much to my embarrassment, he came over to see who it was.
My Mum told him who she was and the family connection and, here's the thing, he pretended to remember exactly who she was, asked after my Granddad and her brothers, and spent a good 10 mins chatting about Manchester and what he was doing. Completely unnecessary, and I dare say he'd rather have been getting himself ready to play, but he gave up his time to a woman whom he recognised admired him.
100% top class gentleman.
I'd like to believe modern day footballers would do the same but I doubt it - perhaps Harry would?...