Did You See That?

For college-football fans, ranking the mind-blowing moves of University of Southern California (U.S.C.) running back Reggie Bush, one of the most thrilling players in history, has joined homecoming weekend as a favorite autumn pastime. Which highlight is No. 1? When he juked an Oregon defender while wearing one shoe? When he stopped on a dime, watched a Fresno State defender fly by and darted across the field for a 50-yd. touchdown? Perhaps his quantum leap over a UCLA cornerback, legs split high in the air à la Michael Jordan, finished with a flip into the end zone like a Hollywood stuntman? Bush, downplaying his theatrics, won't pick a favorite. "It's just like playing football with your friends out in the street," he told TIME.

To Bush, big-time college football is as easy as two-hand touch. Last Saturday night he won the Heisman Trophy, by the second widest margin ever, after a dominant year as a runner, receiver and kick returner. Bush averaged a nation-high 8.9 yds. per carry and capped off the regular season in stunning fashion, tallying 513 all-purpose yards in a 50-42 win over Fresno State and 260 rushing yards in a 66-19 romp over crosstown rival UCLA.

Even in a sterling year for college football--Notre Dame's resurgence under former New England Patriots offensive coordinator Charlie Weis, an unexpected hurrah out of near-octogenarian coach Joe Paterno at Penn State and no silly postseason polling controversies--Bush, 20, stood out. Says Texas head coach Mack Brown, who began his college career in 1973: "Reggie Bush is as good a running back as I've ever seen." And Brown will see him again soon. On Jan. 4, U.S.C. will take its gaudy 34-game winning streak into the Rose Bowl against undefeated Texas, which features sensational scrambling quarterback Vince Young, the Heisman runner-up.

Bush's path to the 2005 Heisman began 130 miles down I-5 in San Diego, where he grew up in a blue-collar family with mother Denise, a deputy sheriff in a county jail; stepfather LaMar, a security officer; and half brother Jovan, 14. Bush's relationship with his biological father, which he describes as a "a roller coaster," complicated his childhood. "It was tough with both sides of the family not getting along too well," he says. "[I was] caught in a tug-of-war." Bush calls LaMar his father (during his Heisman acceptance speech, Bush broke down while thanking him). Luckily, football offered plenty of solace. Bush ran for eight touchdowns in his second Pop Warner game.

Despite his L.A. stardom and Denzel Washington looks, Bush has no Hollywood act. When U.S.C. players started rapping before a game to keep things loose, they had to prod Bush to join in. He did, briefly, and sat right back down. Though Bush may at times appear aloof, friends say he's just focused. "A bomb could blow up next to him," says Donnie Van Hook, Bush's high school coach, "and he wouldn't even know it."