The Voice of A Gladiator

A Tribute to Mr. Ricardo Abel Pérez

If you were a Roma High School student in the 80s or 90s—or even if your footsteps touched campus decades later—you knew the voice.

It wasn’t just heard. It rose.

Above the brass of the Mighty Gladiator Band. Above the drumline’s thundering cadence. Above the roar of the stadium on a crisp Friday night. Warm. Booming. Steady. Unmistakable.

“Interception by number 34… passing the 40… the 30-yard line… and he’s—touchdown, Roma Gladiators!” And like clockwork—everyone to their feet, the whole town erupting into one heartbeat.

For generations of Gladiators, that voice still lingers like the familiar hum of a cherished song. The soundtrack of childhood. The narrator of high school memories. The echo of a time when Roma felt smaller, closer, united under the glow of the stadium lights.

And that voice belonged to one man— Mr. Ricardo Abel “Ricky” Pérez.

A teacher.

A coach.

A mentor.

An announcer.

A judge.

A community pillar.

A giant whose footsteps still echo through the halls of Roma ISD.

This is the story of the man who became the voice—and the heart—of Roma. Born in Rio Grande City on January 18, 1952, to Dora Garza and Lino Pérez Jr., Ricardo grew up in a household where responsibility wasn’t just taught—it was lived. His parents, both U.S. Postal Service employees, instilled discipline and duty into all four Pérez children: Lino III, Rebecca “Becky,” Carlos Luis, and Ricardo, the third child.

With a Postmaster for a father and a meticulous Postal Clerk for a mother, Ricardo learned early the meaning of showing up—on time, prepared, and with purpose.

His childhood was rooted in the halls of Immaculate Conception Convent School, followed by Rio Grande City High School, where he became part of the inaugural 4-year JROTC graduating class.

Athletics? Well, he tried. Freshman football? Cut for his own safety, as he recounts with humor. Basketball? He made the team but often had to miss practice to help his father at the family ranch. Still, the spirit of teamwork, grit, and school pride stayed with him.

These values carried him to Texas A&M University, where he proudly served in the Fighting Texas Aggie Corps of Cadets while earning his degree in Political Science. Life may have steered him away from the diplomatic career he originally imagined—but it steered him toward something far greater: Roma ISD, where the next 41 years of his life would change countless lives.

He had every opportunity to chase a bigger city, bigger job, bigger paycheck. But Ricardo chose something much more powerful—He came home to serve. Ricardo Pérez was hired in August 1974 as a 6th-grade Social Studies teacher at Roma Junior High. What he didn’t know then was that he would stay for 41 years, shaping generations of Roma Gladiators.

Roma basketball in the mid-1970s was electric—still glowing from a state finals appearance. Coach Eleuterio Garza, Jr. wasn’t initially enthusiastic about music or announcing during games, but Pérez convinced him to allow pre-game music. But no announcing. No yet.

It wasn’t until 1978, under Coach Jesús O. Guerra, Jr., that Mr. Pérez picked up the microphone. By the end of that season, Roma had a new tradition—and a new icon. The community began calling him The Voice of the Gladiators.

From basketball to the first football season in 1988, to baseball, track and field, volleyball, and girls’ basketball, his voice echoed across fields and gymnasiums for decades. His voice still holds strong, today.

In every High School there is always that one teacher—the one whose classroom becomes a safe haven, whose words become anchors, whose expectations become the standard you rise to.

For Roma High, that teacher was Mr. Pérez. He was the cool teacher without ever trying.

The sharp-witted mentor who delivered lessons with humor, honesty, and heart. The steady voice who refused to let any student fall through the cracks.

A favorite image from his past is the vehicle so many remember—his Cardinal Red 1983 Ford Bronco, a powerhouse with a tan removable hard top. It wasn’t just a truck. It was a vessel of possibility. Ricky loaded that Bronco with high school juniors and seniors, drove them to College Station, and opened their eyes to higher education and wider horizons. To this day, he still regrets selling it. For past Gladiators it will forever sit in their memories—imagining somewhere in the Texas heat it stands at the ready, like an old soldier at rest, dust-covered but dignified, still looking prepared for its next mission.

On the mic, he was electric.

His announcing wasn’t just game commentary.

It was tradition.

It was ritual.

It was Roma pride—amplified.

He didn’t just call the plays.

He painted them, like a sports storyteller who understood that every down, every basket, every sprint carried the heartbeat of a town behind it.

He was our local play-by-play legend—our hometown Vin Scully, Bob Costas—turning high school games into epic moments students would remember forever.

And that voice?

It still echoes in Roma’s basketball gym today as he continues to announce games, delighting new generations while triggering waves of nostalgia in their parents.

In 1992, Mayor Alonzo H. Álvarez—who knew Pérez as both colleague and community leader—appointed him Associate Municipal Judge. Every mayor since has reappointed him. Today, 34 years later, he continues serving as the Presiding Municipal Court Judge of the City of Roma.

As a Municipal Judge, he didn’t just interpret the law—he interpreted humanity.

In a small community, the courtroom can be a place of fear. But in Mr. Pérez’s courtroom, it is also a place of guidance. A place where young people are reminded that mistakes do not define them—and that someone still believes in their future.

For all his titles—Teacher. Coach. Administrator. Judge. “The Voice.” Board President—none matter more to him than Father.

José Javier “J.J.” Pérez entered his life at age 14. Ricardo first became his legal guardian, but on July 9, 2015—just weeks before retiring from Roma ISD—his proudest moment arrived: he officially adopted J.J. as his son.

J.J. went on to graduate from McPherson College in Kansas with a degree in Kinesiology and now serves as a managing partner in a roofing company in Nashville, Tennessee.

Ask Ricky about his proudest accomplishment, and he will tell you without hesitation: “My son.”

Now, as President of the Roma ISD Board of Trustees, his impact continues. The Gladiators of years past who once looked up to him from classroom desks now read his funny, sharp, and heartfelt Facebook posts—proof that wisdom ages well, humor stays young, and never retires.

He helped raise a generation. Now he is helping shape the next. His legacy is simple. And profound. He made Roma better, its children stronger, and its future

brighter.

In sports, they say some players change the score, but a rare few change the game.

Mr. Pérez changed the game for Roma.

And even long after the stadium lights dim, long after the gym grows quiet, one sound remains—floating in the memory of every Gladiator who ever stood in those bleachers:

“Roma ball… first down… Gladiators!!”

A voice that didn’t just call plays—it called a community to life.

A voice that reminds us of who we are.

And the extraordinary man who helped shape not only a school but a city.

He lives by a quote from Albert Einstein: “Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.”

Look at his life, and you see the truth:

A boy from Rio Grande City who dreamed of serving through the military…

A young man who found purpose in the classrooms of Roma…

A voice that became the soundtrack to a town…

A judge who gave second chances…

A leader who continues to shape the future…

A father whose heart found its fullest meaning through his son…

Ricardo Abel Pérez has lived for others—thousands of them. And Roma is better because of it.

@Janie

@alvarezjanie