Tiffany Reyes stepped into her 3-point shot with the confidence of a vet. The way she squared up for her shot, flowing into a shooting motion that can be best described as textbook. You just know she’s done this a thousand times. Maybe a hundred thousand. 

It screamed potential. It looked reflexive but graceful. 

Consistent. 

Sure. 

She held her shooting hand firm and flexed, only falling down at ease once the ball found its way to the bottom of the net. The ball often does. 

In this particular version of a Tiffany Reyes-made 3, she put the Philippines up by 27 with less than four minutes left in the game. Her hand didn’t just fall down at ease this time. This specific 3 called for a celebration. This one’s special, just as Tiff is, just as her teammates in Gilas Pilipinas Women’s U18 are. 

With all things Gilas, pressure, criticism, and scrutiny always lurked nearby. Their response to all of that energy? A collective “hell nah.”

Her follow through quickly switched into a three-finger mask to cover her face, which prior to this moment was all business. She ran to celebrate with her teammate, Naomi Panganiban, then unmasked to reveal the biggest smile. Briefly, she broke character. For a fleeting second, Tiffany Reyes wasn’t the stone-faced assassin locking in on her target. She’s a kid again, just playing the game that makes her happy. 

Her friends and family call her Tiff. She just entered her teens, a whole life of basketball ahead of her. Behind her, a lot of basketball already. She was introduced to the game when she was only three years old, thanks to her sporty dad.

“Basketball was the sport I chose,” she tells SLAM Philippines via Zoom. Sitting beside her was her dad, who just turned 40, his eyes beaming with pride. 

Tiff’s dad is just like any other dad, in that he encouraged his daughter and his son, Tyler, to go out and play. 

“I bought different types of balls – may basketball, may volleyball, may badminton pa sa labas. I’m letting them play outside, mag-explore sila. Whether bike, basta maging active lang sila,” he says.

But unlike any other dad, Tiff’s dad was a professional basketball player for 14 years. At home, he’s known as just that – “Dad.” We know him as Jay-R Reyes, the ever-reliable big man who’d always find a place in a league where reliable big men thrive. At 6-foot-7, Reyes had the innate toughness you’d want on your side. He did the muscle work – boxed out, grabbed rebounds, blocked shots, set screens, gave up the occasional hard foul, won ball games.

Reyes would bring young Tiff to almost every game, from Araneta to MOA Arena, from tipoff to bedtime. Kids today get screen time; Tiff got courtside PBA action.

She and her brother grew up with the game around them, a constant hum in the Reyes household. The hum grew louder and louder, until the hum became buzz and the buzz became curiosity. This curiosity went far and beyond what Tiff saw and did oncourt.

“Siguro mga seven or eight years old, mas updated pa siya sa NBA kaysa akin eh. Bigla nalang magsasabi ‘yan ng mga trades sa NBA, ‘yung updated lineups, kung ano nangyayari sa basketball community. Nagugulat ako, ‘Bakit alam mo?’ Doon ko naisip na seryoso siya at talagang ‘yung heart niya nasa basketball,” Reyes says.

When Reyes stepped away from the game in 2021, he left as a former All-Star and a four-time champ. He clocked in countless hours of work. He had been in battles. He got scars. He knew what it took to live a decorated life of hoops. With Tiff, he simply didn’t want to force that life upon her. 

“Mas in-encourage ko pa siya na mag-try ng volleyball or badminton kasi ‘yung mom niya volleyball player din before eh. In-encourage ko din siya mag-try ng swimming or football. Ayaw niya talaga, inaway pa nga niya ko eh,” Reyes says. “Hindi ko siya pi-nush na basketball ka lang.”

Hoops was inevitable. It ran through Tiff’s veins. Countless hours of PBA games replayed in her core memory bank. She has, no doubt, been nurtured with the privilege. The last name. The legacy. That’s not enough though. On her own, Tiff searched, literally, for more.

“Kapag may free time siya, nagse-search siya ng mga drills sa YouTube or basketball highlights tapos pinipilit niyang gayahin kapag naglalaro kami ng one-on-one,” Reyes says. “Yinayabangan niya ako, ‘Look, Dad! I can do this!’ Or kapag nahirapan siya, nagpapaturo siya sa akin.”

“Sa age niya, bihira ‘yung ganoon eh, ‘yung may kusa na willing to learn.”

Go to YouTube, search for “Tiffany Reyes highlights,” watch about five seconds of a Tiff bucket, and it’ll show. The sureness in her shot will make sense. She’s under 18, yes, but her game is already backed by years of prep, of pure willingness to know more, of wanting to get better.

“She’s a fighter and very competitive,” says Reyes in his best Girl Dad voice, striking the same chord when fathers and their daughters have a moment in basketball settings. Kobe and Gigi at courtside. Steph and Riley at the postgame press conference. NU Lady Bulldogs head coach Aris Dimaunahan guiding Christiana. PBA legend Bobby Jose watching the games of Danica. The love for basketball is best when shared. It’s at the all-time greatest when shared between dads and daughters.

“He played a huge influence on my love for the game because ever since I was a kid, it was our way of bonding together over the summer,” Danica says. “I feel like we grew closer together through basketball.”

Danica got more than her dad’s height. She got her motivation: go become a better version of yourself. She won a SEA Games gold medal and is continuing to be a better version of herself outside of basketball. The influence transcends.

The daughters do their thing. The dads eventually retire. It’s Tiff’s time now. She’s the one bringing her dad to the games, from one high school gym to another, from this tournament to that. 

Jay-R Reyes, the 14-year PBA vet, is now the one cheering her on in the sidelines. Jay-R Reyes, the four-time PBA champ, is filling up his own core memory bank of Tiffany Reyes highlights (it’s filling up real quick). 

Ask him about Tiff. Watch the battle-scarred former pro light up with that familiar glow that connects dads to their daughters – that inexplicable warmth that’s almost reflexive. 

Consistent. 

Sure.

“Ang sinasabi ko lagi sa kanya, ‘Do your best every time and have fun,’” Reyes says.

The big smiles on the court are dad-approved, but if Tiff is really serious about basketball–and she absolutely is–she is highly encouraged by her dad to “do the right thing and dream big.”

Train like a beast? Been doing that. Sign up for tournaments every weekend? Done. Dominate each and every time? That too. Swat shots left and right? Bet! (Is that how the kids say it?) 

How about represent the country? Not big enough. Be the national team’s go-to knockdown shooter? A bit bigger. Wave the flag for GIlas Girls for the next five years? Bigger. Play in the pros? Bigger. 

“My ultimate goal in basketball is to make it to the WNBA,” Tiff says. 

The first-ever homegrown Filipina to play in the W? Sounds about right.