New Beginnings: Former Auburn Star Finds a New Roar at South Alabama
The morning air in Mobile, Alabama, carried the electric scent of rain and fresh opportunity. In the lobby of the South Alabama Athletics Center, a buzz circled the room—coaches, trainers, and reporters sensing a moment that could tilt the program’s future.
At the center of it all stood Malik “Tank” Reynolds—a former Auburn defensive lineman whose name once sent tremors through SEC offenses. Broad-shouldered, with a gaze sharp enough to slice through steel, Reynolds was the definition of unfinished business. After two seasons at Auburn that flashed brilliance but sputtered under coaching changes and injury, Reynolds entered the transfer portal. Many thought he might disappear into obscurity. Instead, he roared back.
And now, he was a Jaguar.
“I’m here to change the culture,” Reynolds said at his first South Alabama press conference, voice steady, eyes locked on the room. “This isn’t a step down. This is a takeover.”
Reynolds had been a four-star recruit out of Montgomery’s Jefferson High School, where he racked up 24 sacks in his senior year and was once compared to NFL All-Pro Cameron Jordan for his rare blend of size and speed. At Auburn, he showed flashes—three sacks against LSU, a bone-rattling forced fumble against Arkansas—but inconsistency and a nagging high ankle sprain kept him from becoming a household name.
South Alabama head coach Kane Wommack knew what he was getting—and what he was risking.
“You bring in a player like Malik, you’re betting on two things: hunger and leadership,” Wommack said, arms crossed, watching Reynolds’ first practice. “We’re not just getting a player—we’re getting a storm.”
The first practice was a revelation. Wearing a navy blue No. 99 jersey that already seemed too small for his carved frame, Reynolds terrorized the offensive line. First drill, he split a double team like a knife through paper. Second drill, he batted down a screen pass, then turned and sprinted 30 yards to chase down the back. His new teammates whooped and hollered, wide-eyed at the new energy surging through their defense.
“He different,” whispered sophomore linebacker J.T. Colson, shaking his head in disbelief. “He real different.”
Off the field, Reynolds quickly found his voice. During voluntary workouts, he was the first one in the weight room and the last one off the practice field. He held late-night film sessions in the players’ lounge, teaching freshmen how to read offensive line stances, how to recognize pulling guards.
“This isn’t a pit stop for me,” Reynolds said when asked if he was simply trying to revive his draft stock. “It’s a rebirth.”
Word spread fast through the Sun Belt Conference: South Alabama had landed a real problem for offensive coordinators. Expectations swelled, ticket sales spiked, and suddenly, Saturday nights at Hancock Whitney Stadium weren’t just another game—they were an event.
Reynolds had found his new home. And in Mobile, the Jaguars had found their new face of the franchise.
Some careers are measured in trophies. Malik Reynolds’ second act would be measured in impact—a relentless, undeniable force that reminded everyone who had once doubted:
Tigers may prowl the plains, but Jaguars rule the hunt.
Would you also like a second version that’s a little more dramatic or sportswriter-style depending on the vibe you’re looking for?
