Efren Reyes and Cheche Lazaro (source: The AnitoKid on BIlliards)
Watching the Probe Profile on Efren Reyes, I kept hoping for some dirt, perhaps a competitor’s jeer or a scintilla of a scandal. The profile, which heavily revolves around Cheche Lazaro’s interview with Mr. Reyes, and first aired in July 2009, borders on hagiography. He may have earned the moniker ‘The Magician,’ but if this exposé were to be believed, he should have been christened ‘The Saint.’
Had I become so jaded that I could neither believe nor enjoy an unsullied rags-to-riches story? Does every hero need a dark side?
Martin Luther King, Jr. was posthumously discovered to be an extensive plagiarist. John F. Kennedy was a compulsive womanizer. Albert Einstein was a xenophobe. Even Mother Teresa is clouded by controversy, ranging from misuse of funding to religious evangelism. Let’s face it: most of the world’s Most Admired have some skeletons in their closet.
And then there’s Mr. Reyes, 55 years old at the time of the Probe Profile, whose life story incredulously seems beyond reproach or blemish. You can watch the full Probe Profile here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCL0lC838-w
Born the fifth of nine children in Pampanga, Philippines, Mr. Reyes grew up dirt-poor. He got introduced to billiards at age 5, when he was sent to work in Manila at his uncles Lucky-13 billiard hall. The pool table was literally his bed. Like an innocent moppet, he watched money trading hands at that pool hall, and so began playing pool “so people would hand over money to [him].”
Fast-forward and the young Reyes, who originally had to stand on stacked Coke cases to reach the table, became a formidable hustler for his uncle. By his early 20s, a larger audience was taking notice, especially after he was profiled by an American sportswriter. He won his first tournament in 1985 and earned $10,500. Three years later, he beat the reigning Philippines billiards champion Jose “Amang” Parica. In 1996, he beat Earl Strickland in The Color of Money tournament, a race to 120, for which he won $100,000, the largest single-winning purse at a pool event at the time.
From there, his biography only goes north. In 1999, he defeated Chang Hao-Ping to win the World Professional Pool Championship in Cardiff, Wales. It was the first time the championship had been broadcast globally, and Mr. Reyes returned to his home country a national hero and helped turn billiards from a “game for people who fool around and have nothing to do, according to the elders,” to a recognized sport that led to a boom for the country’s billiards industry.
Other honors and accolades followed. He received the Presidential Medal of Honor. He was inducted into the Billiards Congress of America Hall of Fame. He starred in the billiards movie Pakners. He was featured as one of 60 Asian Heroes in the 2006 Time Magazine cover story.
And yet, throughout all his fame, he retained an unprecedented modesty, humility, and generosity. Regarding the Time Magazine profile, he asked, “Why me? I have done nothing for Asian life.” Flush with cash from his winnings, he has still never invested in dentures for his toothless mouth. He looks after his relatives, sending them to school, providing them with housing and food. He describes how his earnings over 30 years do not even amount to what boxer Manny Pacquiao – the Philippines other famous athletic son – earns in one match, but there is no anger in his voice.
One sports commentator describes Mr. Reyes as the “simplest, humblest man he has ever met…not a mean bone in his body.” Ms. Lazaro’s depiction almost borders on caricature: “Dressed simple, always smiling (even without teeth), sometimes scratching his head.”
As I watched and re-watched the 35-minute Probe Profile, I became increasingly cynical. I was convinced that this adult cherub, so idolized by the global pool community that apparently billiards champion Ronny “The Volcano” Alcano pulled out his own teeth in an act of devout inspiration, had serious dirty laundry, which had been overlooked by this canonizing piece of journalism.
But, even after all my online sleuthing, I was unable to pinpoint a tragic flaw. When Mr. Reyes won $500,000 at the 2005 IPT World Open Eight-ball Championship, he first response was, “this is too much money for me.” Go on to message boards, where anonymous posters can routinely vilify every person, place, or thing, and Mr. Reyes is endeared and idolized for his humility and impossible shot-making.
In a 2017 essay on Mr. Reyes, Mashkur Hussain wrote:
He is a true living Filipino folk hero, very much in an old-fashioned sort of way. And everybody will tell you two things about Efren: He is the best player in the world in cash games, and the most down-to-earth guy you’ll ever come across… Immune to the political infighting that has plagued the pool world, Efren is unique in that he hasn’t an enemy on the Tour. He is a joy to watch, accepting winning and losing with the same humble shrug of the shoulders. Needless to say, he is revered by all Filipino players who have followed in his footsteps.
In today’s era of #FakeNews, do not make the distrustful mistake that I did and conclude that this biographical portrait cannot be accurate. In fact, quite the opposite, it seems Mr. Reyes is every bit deserving of such acclaim. So, whether you call him Efren or Efrey, Bata or The Magician, I’m sticking with my sobriquet, The Saint.
