“I got my work ethic from both my parents,” Tre Harris grinned, probably while high-pointing a football over an imaginary DB. Behind every “monster” wideout—as his QB Jaxson Dart calls him—there’s a family tree rooted in grit. For Tre, that tree blooms with Cleveland Harris Jr., an oil-rig warrior, and Delana Harris Jr., Lafayette’s ultimate sideline hype woman. Think Blue Collar meets Steel Magnolias, with a dash of SEC swagger.

Tre’s story isn’t just stats (though 2,015 career yards at Ole Miss is spicy). It’s a love letter to two parents who turned grit into greatness. Let’s meet the folks who turned a Louisiana kid into a 6’3”, 210-pound nightmare for cornerbacks.

Who is Tre Harris’ Father?

Cleveland Harris Jr. doesn’t wear a cape. He wears steel-toe boots. For 25 years, he’s worked oil fields—a job that’s equal parts Mad Max and FNL. While Tre was mastering slant routes, Cleveland was wrestling rigs in 12-hour shifts, often gone for months. “I watched him put a roof over our heads,” Tre says. Translation: Dad’s hustle wasn’t just about paychecks; it was a masterclass in dominance.

Cleveland didn’t raise a receiver. He raised a gladiator. “Be dominant in everything,” he’d growl, tossing footballs to a 5-year-old Tre until the sun dipped below the horizon. That mantra stuck. At Comeaux High, Tre QB’d like Lamar Jackson Lite, but Cleveland saw his son’s destiny: “You’re a pass-catcher.”

Fast-forward to 2023: Tre shattered Ole Miss records with 4 TDs in his debut. Dad’s reaction? Probably a nod and a “That’s my boy.” No confetti. Just Cajun pride. But Cleveland’s legacy isn’t just touchdowns. It’s sweat equity. When Tre’s groin injury sidelined him in 2024, he rehabbed like a man possessed—because quitting?

That’s not in the Harris DNA. “My dad taught me to outwork the grind,” Tre says. Even now, as NFL scouts drool over his 1,030-yard senior season, Tre’s still that kid in the backyard, chasing his dad’s spirals under the Louisiana stars.

Who is Harris’ mother?

If Cleveland’s the fire, Delana Harris Jr. is the heartbeat. Picture this: Four kids, a husband on oil rigs, and a minivan perpetually en route to soccer games. “I’ve never seen her complain,” Tre marvels. Delana didn’t just keep the lights on—she kept dreams alive. While Tre shredded defenses at Comeaux, she juggled three daughters’ volleyball tournaments, all while screaming “TREEEEEE!” from Row 12.

Delana’s superpower? Presence. She hasn’t missed a single Ole Miss home game. Not one. “I can hear her screaming my name,” Tre laughs. Even when he transferred from Louisiana Tech to Oxford, Mom’s cheers followed—louder than a Mississippi thunderstorm. Her mantra? “Nothing’s impossible.” When Tre doubted his two-star recruiting rank, Delana shrugged: “So rewrite the story.” He did, dropping 213 yards on Texas A&M like it was Pop Warner.

But her impact isn’t just rah-rah. It’s resilience. During Cleveland’s absences, Delana became CEO of Harris Household Inc.—budgets, carpools, pep talks. “She taught me to adapt,” Tre says. So when SEC DBs tried to bully him, Tre just… adapted. Broke tackles. Mossed defenders. Turned “contested catches” into highlights. Mom didn’t raise a quitter. She raised a cheat code.

As Tre preps for the NFL Draft, his parents’ lessons loom large. Cleveland’s already planning his retirement—“front-row seats to every game”—while Delana’s sewing a new game-day outfit. Because when your son’s about to ink rookie deals and sign Beckett-worthy cards, you dress for the moment.

In the words of Ted Lasso’s Dani Rojas: “Football is life!” But for Tre Harris, family is the playbook. And in this game, Cleveland and Delana are undefeated.