25/07/2025
Just before turning 70, Efren Reyes finally said what he never needed to shout:
āIāll be 70 next March. I never chased cameras. Never needed bodyguards. Never stopped calling it ājust a game.āā
I was never the loud one in the room. I didnāt wear gold chains or demand an entourage.
I just let the cue speak for me. And when it did, people listened.
I grew up in Angeles, playing pool in dusty halls with cracked balls and cigarette smoke in the air. We didnāt have sponsors ā we had instincts. I learned to aim not just with my eyes, but with my gut.
I remember sleeping under pool tables as a kid, dreaming not of trophiesā¦ but of meals. We hustled, because we had to. I was never promised greatness. I just kept showing up.
At 30, I became āThe Magician.ā They called me that because I made shots no one saw coming. But to me, they werenāt magic. They were just possibilities others hadnāt looked for yet.
At 40, I beat the best in the world. Americans, Brits, anyone with swagger. I smiled. Shook hands. Then went home to eat with my family.
At 50, I started losing more. Reflexes slowed. Eyes got tired. But the love for the game? Still sharp. Iād show up at bar tournaments where half the crowd didnāt know they were playing with a legend.
At 60, I stopped playing to win. I played to teach. I played to remind the next generation:
āYou donāt need noise to prove youāre great.
Let your cue do the talking.ā
Now, nearly 70, I spend my days watching the sun rise slow over rice fields. I teach kids to line up shots, and sometimes, I let them win. I tell stories ā the quiet kind ā over coffee and warm pan de sal.
If I could tell you one thing, itās this:
A humble life is not a small one.
Not everyone needs to dominate. Some of us are here to outlast. To endure.
To watch. To teach. To take the shot when it feels right ā and walk away smiling, win or lose.
Thereās dignity in silence. Thereās wisdom in restraint.
And sometimes, the strongest hand on the tableā¦ is the one that knows when to let go.
With calm and chalk-stained fingers,
ā Efren āBataā Reyes
