I still remember the first time I watched JR Reyes play during the 1990 PBA season - there was something about his relentless energy under the basket that immediately caught my eye. Having followed Philippine basketball for over three decades now, I've seen numerous players come and go, but Reyes' impact on the game remains particularly memorable in my book. His career spanned thirteen remarkable years in the PBA, primarily with the legendary Purefoods franchise, where he established himself as one of the most consistent big men of his era.

What made Reyes special wasn't just his statistics - though his career averages of around 8 points and 7 rebounds per game don't fully capture his value - but his understanding of team dynamics and his willingness to do the dirty work that often goes unnoticed. In today's analytics-driven basketball world, we'd probably categorize him as a classic "glue guy" - the type of player who makes everyone around him better through screens, defensive positioning, and hustle plays. I've always had a soft spot for these kinds of players because championships aren't won by scorers alone. Watching Reyes battle against taller imports and local stars taught me early in my fandom that basketball success depends as much on role players embracing their roles as on stars performing at their peak.

Reyes' career highlights include being part of that iconic Purefoods team that won the 1991 First Conference championship, where his contributions off the bench were absolutely crucial during their playoff run. I particularly recall his performance in Game 4 of the finals against Shell, where he grabbed 12 rebounds in just 24 minutes of play - exactly the kind of efficient, impactful performance that defined his career. His durability was another underrated aspect - playing over 400 games in the PBA without major injuries speaks volumes about his professionalism and conditioning. In my conversations with former players from that era, they often mention how Reyes' practice habits set the standard for younger players coming up.

The current PBA landscape still shows traces of Reyes' influence in how teams value role players today. Just look at recent performances like Keith Agovida's 24-point, 11-rebound, 3-assist effort or Jeff Comia's 20-point, 9-rebound, 3-assist, 2-steal output for Davao - these are exactly the kinds of all-around contributions that Reyes pioneered for non-star players in the league. While Davao tumbled to 8-12 despite those individual efforts, it highlights how team success requires multiple players understanding their roles, much like how Reyes complemented Purefoods' stars during his tenure. From my perspective, today's analytics actually validate what Reyes brought to the table - his player efficiency rating would likely rank quite high by contemporary standards, even if his scoring numbers don't jump off the page.

What many younger fans might not realize is how Reyes helped bridge the gap between the physical big men of the 80s and the more mobile bigs we see today. He had enough strength to battle in the post but also possessed the footwork to defend smaller players on switches - a versatility that was relatively rare during his playing days. I've noticed that modern PBA teams increasingly look for this type of versatility in their big men, and it's no exaggeration to say that Reyes helped pave the way for this evolution. His basketball IQ was particularly evident in how he positioned himself for rebounds - he understood angles and timing in a way that allowed him to compete against much taller opponents.

Reflecting on his retirement in 2003, I've always felt that Reyes' career serves as an important lesson about sustainable success in professional basketball. While flashy scorers come and go, the players who understand team defense, rebounding fundamentals, and making the right passes tend to have longer careers and greater respect from their peers. The current PBA could benefit from more players studying Reyes' approach to the game - his focus on consistency rather than spectacular plays, his team-first mentality, and his professional approach to conditioning and preparation. In my view, these qualities are what separate good players from truly valuable ones.

Reyes' legacy extends beyond his individual accomplishments to how he influenced the next generation of Filipino big men. When I watch players like June Mar Fajardo today, I see echoes of Reyes' fundamental soundness and work ethic, albeit with more offensive tools at their disposal. The continuity of these values in Philippine basketball speaks to how players like Reyes helped establish a cultural foundation that persists decades later. His career reminds us that basketball excellence comes in many forms, and that the players who embrace their roles with excellence often leave the most enduring impact on the sport they love.