Als’ Bruce puts his family first
Maturing receiver has priorities
MONTREAL — There was never a second thought in the mind of Arland Bruce III. When his father, a diabetic on dialysis, took ill last spring — when his body was ravaged by gangrene and doctors had no choice but to amputate his right foot — the professional football player rushed home to Kansas to be by his side for five days.
Of course Bruce did the right thing, but it would have been easy not to.
You see, by doing so, he bypassed the Alouettes’ minicamp in Orlando, Fla.
Having been signed as a freeagent by Montreal — his fifth Canadian Football League team — last January, it would have made sense for Bruce to report for the workouts, introducing himself to his new teammates and a coaching staff that had been overhauled.
Bruce put his family first, but there was a time when his father, Arland Bruce II, did not.
And for that reason, the Als receiver should be commended. He has been able to bury the past while gaining knowledge and maturity. He has learned the importance of giving someone, even his father, a second chance. The illness reinforced the importance of this all.
“I had to be there for him. It was tough,” Bruce, 35, said during an interview this week inside the team’s Olympic Stadium dressing room. “He was in a nursing home for like almost two months. He was frustrated, disappointed and angry.
“This is my dad. I look up to him. He’s a hero to me. Invincible.
“We’ve always had a, I wouldn’t say a father-andson relationship like my sons and I do. But as I’ve grown and seen his health deteriorate, it’s become more of a father-andson relationship. It’s kind of flipped. I know he needs me. He’s very encouraging, very positive. That’s why I respect him. I can’t fault what he did.”
Bruce is reluctant to provide many details from what should, and will, remain private. But he will say this much: He was a troubled youth, spending a nomadic life between Kansas and Oklahoma, frequently changing addresses between the two states.
His parents divorced before his birth. From age 12 until he graduated from high school Bruce’s aunt — his father’s sister — had custody of him. She was his disciplinarian, the person who taught him the difference between right and wrong.
He spent two months in group home, eventually kicked out for a lack of discipline. There were many late nights spent on city streets, he admitted, hanging with older kids, to supposedly be cool. The police got to know him on a first-name basis, Bruce admitted.
“My mother and father were doing their own thing, whatever that may be, whatever the cause was. And I was taken away from them,” Bruce said. “My dad realizes he made mistakes.
“I look down on people who disrespect their parents, who complain because they weren’t around them for 15, 20 or 30 years, because you never know what they were going through at that time in their life.”
Others are not as forgiving, it seems. Bruce has a brother who won’t have anything to do with their father. Each to his own.
“My father’s my hero, because he’s not asking me for stuff. He’s trying to make it, working with the best that he has,” Bruce explained. “It’s that spirit, knowledge and wisdom that I take from him.”
As if so often the case, Bruce eventually came to a point where he realized he was repeating his father’s sins, the cycle being duplicated.
Bruce himself was married eight years, the father of three boys age 10, 7 and 4. He sees them infrequently, he admits, and never during football season, relying on scial media as a means for communication.
And as for Bruce, probably nearing the end of a productive career — he’s simply hoping to leave his mark.
“I’m 35. I don’t have time for games. After five teams, I don’t have no regrets.”