Bruce Reyes, Jr. has been (to coin a famous Reggie Jackson quote) the straw that stirs the drink for the Freshman Bruins in 2007. He is the brightest light in the distant future of WB football. Having scored no fewer than two touchdowns in any game this year, he has been the catalyst for an increasingly balanced offensive attack. In game-mode, his mental approach betrays neither emotion nor nuance: give no quarter; take no prisoners. Durley Stadium is a battle field where there is only success or failure, victory or defeat. Rarely does one encounter such a mentally and athletically disciplined student/athlete. He patterns himself on his dad, the elder Bruce Reyes. No story of the son can be told without a glimpse of the father.Bruce Senior raised himself from the time he was in 8th grade. Having no parents, in the traditional sense, he stayed with various understanding friends from his school. A stab wound at the beginning of his senior year placed him in the ER. At that time, his youth minister brokered an arrangement between him and his mother for him to live with her for the first time since he was thirteen. Still, in the absence of formal guidance, he worked to earn his own money, quarterbacked his high school’s football team and graduated from Northbrook High School in Houston. The summer after graduating, the new father had to take a job, setting up furniture for auctions, in order to make ends meet. This job took him across the South. Upon returning to Houston, many of Bruce Senior’s associations were dealing drugs, and engaging in unlawful and violent lifestyles. Bruce realized that he had to escape his associations if he was to avoid prison or death. The United States Marine Corps gave him the outlet to brandish his physical ability and mental toughness to full affect. However, his son Bruce, Jr. didn’t really know his father until he was six years old because of military postings. It was at this time that Sergeant Reyes received his honorable discharge.
Since his father’s only real parenting skills came from the nurturing bosom of the United States Marine Corps, there are definitive expectations set for Junior. Dad doesn’t make ‘suggestions’. He gives orders. Son carries them out. The elder’s sympathy for failure is a shallow reservoir. Hence, Junior carries a sterling 3.4 GPA into the 2nd quarter of his first semester in the AP program. He is considered the consummate team player by his coaches. And, he is a threat to score on any given play as a kick returner, receiver or quarterback. At present, the freshman quarterback’s fitness reports are quite outstanding.
There is a lot of the father in the son. Neither are overtly emotional. Dad asks for no sympathy over his unfortunate, isolated childhood. Nor does he give it readily. Son plays similarly, with little emotion. Not wasting thought on risk or injury, Reyes runs the battlefield, avoiding potential enemies as if they fired live bullets. After games, son searches for a nod that means simply: mission accomplished. Any other expression of the father’s approval will not be seen. In his heart however, Bruce the father is feeling something his own father never took the opportunity to experience: the heartfelt joy and pride in the accomplishments of a very fine son. ------------------------
Bruce, Junior remembers Mrs. Virginia Culver at Marshall Middle School as his most appreciated teacher. In her class, Mathematics became something it had never been up to that time: fun.
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(Bruce, QB for '04 Beaumont Bulls, in 5th Grade)
Sincere thanks to Mr. Reyes for putting these highlights together.
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