Abel Fonseca is a San Benito native, boxer, boxing coach, and a longtime Site Coordinator for the San Benito CISD ACE After School Program at Miller Jordan Middle School and Collegiate Academy. He can be reached at afonseca@sbcisd.net.
I wish to begin this week’s entry a little differently, with a prayer. If you wish to skip over it and get right into the meat of this week’s column, go ahead, but give my prayer a shot.
Week One
Sorry, Father, for I am still learning how to pray.
Sometimes I do not have the right words. Sometimes I come to You with questions instead of answers. Sometimes I am grateful, and sometimes I am hurting, but I know You hear me anyway.
Thank You for this community, for the families who call it home, and for the people who work every day to make it a better place. Thank You for the teachers, first responders, healthcare workers, volunteers, business owners, and neighbors who quietly serve others without expecting recognition.
Today, I ask for Your guidance. Help us show kindness where there is division, patience where there is frustration, and compassion where there is pain. Remind us that even small acts of goodness can make a difference in someone’s life.
Please watch over those who are sick, those who are struggling, those who feel alone, and those carrying burdens they cannot see a way through. Give them strength for today and hope for tomorrow.
Help us become a community that lifts one another up, forgives one another’s mistakes, and chooses understanding over judgment.
And as I continue learning how to pray, teach me to listen as much as I speak, to trust as much as I ask, and to love as You love.
In Your name, I pray.
The Class of ’93-’94
There is a particular kind of magic that happens in San Benito on Friday nights. But for those of us who grew up here, that magic didn’t start at kickoff; it began in the hallways of San Benito High School.
I still remember my freshman year in 1993. As a young quarterback on the freshman team, I spent my days walking those halls, looking up—literally and figuratively—at the players in Varsity purple and gold. To a freshman, those players didn’t just look like upperclassmen; they looked like giants walking the earth.
I remember watching Ronnie Gonzalez #2 take snaps at QB. As a fellow quarterback, I watched his every move, trying to learn how to lead a team with that composure.
I remember the sheer force of Chris Cole #76 on the line, Val Longoria #65 at center, and how Larry Moore #34 and Steve Rivera #20 could tear through a defense as halfbacks. While Larry Moore brought the speed, Steve Rivera brought the power.
When the ball went into the air, you knew Eric Ybarra #10 or Robert Galvan #88 would find a way to come down with it.
And on the other side of the ball? Albert Sanchez #26, Inside Linebacker, was a nightmare for opponents, dismantling plays before they could even get started.
Leading them all was Coach Tommy Roberts, a true legend whose name is synonymous with Greyhound grit. He didn’t just coach football; he coached character.
But as the saying goes, “Offense sells tickets, defense wins championships.” Under Defensive Coordinator Rudy Gonzales, the Greyhound defense became a “Purple Wall” that ranked among the state’s top six.
I remember the names that made opponents second-guess every snap:
- Danny Lozano: anchored the middle with relentless intensity as a linebacker
- Julian Huerta, a defensive tackle who could simply smash the opponents
- Mark Sanchez and Jamel Malone come off the edges as defensive ends
- Eric Lopez patrolling the backfield as a strong safety
- Rudy Garza and Gabriel Viegas locking down the sides as corners
- Gabriel Treviño #78: Highlighted his role as a Tackle protecting the QB
- Mark Lerma #49: Described him as a “human wrecking ball” and the offensive equivalent to the “smashing” force of Julian Huerta
The Turning of the Tide
For years, the Battle of the Arroyo was the date circled in red on every calendar in town. We all remember the tension of that era and the sheer, unbridled explosion of joy when the Greyhounds finally broke the streak against the Harlingen Cardinals.
I remember the community literally shutting down for the game of the year—San Benito Greyhounds vs. Harlingen Cardinals. The city felt like a ghost town.
My mom’s street was packed with cars, lined up wherever there was space. People parked along curbs, in yards, anywhere they could just to make it to that game. That’s how much it meant.
It was a technical victory, but it shifted the landscape of the rivalry forever. The next year, there was no need for tiebreakers; the Greyhounds took the field and beat the Cardinals outright.
It wasn’t just a win on a scoreboard; it was a statement. It was the moment the “Greyhound Spirit” proved it could overcome any obstacle.
Carrying the Momentum
Life often calls an audible when you least expect it. Because my father was a coach, our family had to move after my freshman year, and I transferred to Progreso High School. It was hard to leave the purple and gold behind, but I took that Greyhound momentum with me.
Every time I stepped under center as a QB for Progreso, I carried the mental images of Ronnie Gonzalez and the intensity of those San Benito practices.
I tried being the same kind of leader I had witnessed in those “giants” back home. I learned that while the jersey might change, the heart of a quarterback—the discipline, the grit, and the drive—stays with you wherever you go.
The Next Generation
Today, I see a new generation of athletes walking in the halls. They might have better equipment and faster highlights on social media, but the heartbeat of the game remains the same.
Whether it’s 1993 or 2026, the lessons learned on the field transcend school lines.
To the “giants” of ’93, thank you for giving a young QB something to shoot for. You taught me that no matter where you end up, you always play like a champion.