A mini interview with Tony "The Tiger" Baltazar

Tony Baltazar throwing a left hook to the body

Randy: Hello Tony, thanks for taking the time to join us today. We appreciate it. I enjoyed watching you fight back in the day, even more so because you were local. You always conducted yourself with class and dignity. Of all your fights the one I enjoyed the most was your win over Roger “The Mexican Assassin” Mayweather . You came through that night.

I was just curious who you recall as your toughest opponent and most meaningful victory. Which fight sticks out in your mind as a sore spot?

Also, what was it like having your dad in your corner?

I’m glad to hear that you are doing well and enjoying life. I hope you know that your fans have good memories of your fighting days.

Also, all of us here think the world of your dad. He’s a great guy and a good friend.


Tony: Hi Randy, Good morning and thank you for your question. Well let Me tell you a war story. The toughest Fighter I ever fought lasted only one round, It was with Max Cervantes He was from the philippines , we fought in Sacramento, Ca.. When the first round started He came at Me and hit Me with a left hook to my body it hurt so much that I wasn't able to move, I landed up against the ropes and And He just beat the living daylight out of Me, I thought the ref was going to stop the fight so I closed my eyes and I threw a left hook and right cross and landed it right on Max's chin, And thank God it was right on target He was out cold and the fight was over. I will always remember Mr Cervantes. Is hard to believe My hardest fight lasted only one round. Well Randy thank you for your question, Happy Holidays and God Bless you and your Family. Your friend Tony The Tiger Baltazar.

Randy: One more thing Tony, what are your thoughts on boxing today? It has changed since you were fighting. Is there any particular fighter that you follow? Or dislike?


Tony: Randy let Me finish with the last questions you asked. I really liked having My pop in my corner, Believe it or not I kind of felt safe knowing my Pop was giving Me intsructions on how to win the fights. Now fights today? Boxing today is so much diffrent today than it was when I was fighting, There isn't that many good trainers out there, Boxers today aren't being taught the skills to become world class fighters, Because the trainers dont know the skills themselfs to teach fighters. Its becoming a quick way to make money for the managers and the trainers, with no regards for the safety and wellfare of the fighters. Thank you again for the question. God bless Tiger.

Randy: Thanks for the reply, Tony. Sometimes the toughest opponents, just like in life are the unexpected ones. When I was taking my son to the gym years ago and remembering how easy it can be to stop throwing punches when someone can be overwhelming you, it's not so much the pain but the senses seem to shut down, I told him when you find yourself against the ropes or in the corner just punch, don't worry about where it will land, just punch. Sometimes it pays off.

It takes a special skill to work a son's corner. Lots of father's try, with good intentions but many of them fall short. It's a tough job. My son only had one amateur fight and I didn't work the corner but I was still a nervous wreck.

You and your brothers were lucky enough to have a father that was willing to bring in some pretty good cornermen to work with you.

I agree with you about the lack good trainers. There are a few but they are a dying breed. Money has become the priority.

Thanks again for the reply and your honesty. Best of luck in all you do. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

It's a privilege

Life’s Little Lessons

Rick, your story brought to mind something from years ago, so I hope you don't mind if I piggyback on your story …….

Life’s Little Lessons

By Randy De La O

Back in 1993 when I was taking my son Andrew to the Brooklyn Street Gym in Boyle Heights, a guy named Troy started coming around and working out. One of the guys there started training him. The trainer was not a real boxing person but was someone who had trained in the art of Ninjitsu, a Japanese form of Martial Arts but not just limited to fighting. Troy was a black belt in Karate, I can’t remember what style, so in some ways it was a match made in heaven.. Troy was about 25 years old, 6’ 6” and was a Fabio look alike. He looked more like body builder than a fighter., he looked to weigh about 230 or so, and solid. He was a very nice guy despite the fact that he was as vain as hell. Troy and my son hit it off really well.

After a few months of learning the basic fundamentals of boxing, shadowboxing, hitting the bags and getting in shape, the day came when he was going to spar for the first time. His sparring partner that day was to be an 17 year old amateur fighter. I don’t recall his name nor did I ever hear anything about him later. The guy was somewhat small for a heavyweight, not too much taller than me but he was built like a refrigerator. Troy was really fired up that day. He invited his older brother Tory to come and see him spar.

When Andrew was done working out that day we walked over to Siete Mares (A Mexican Fish Taco Joint) and as Andrew and I were eating Troy comes bursting through the door and says to my son and I “I’m sparring today”! “Really?” I said. After he gave the run down on who he going to spar with he held up his fist he said “I’m gonna to kick this guys ass and knock him out”! He started going on and on about what he was going to do. It was starting to get ridiculous. I mentioned that he was just sparring not fighting and he should just go in there and learn but it fell on deaf ears. Andrew took a shot at it too but Troy would not be denied this great victory.

When we were done eating we walked back to the gym and Troy introduced me to his brother Tory as he was putting on his gear. I never saw a more confident guy in my life. I really felt sorry for him. So did Andrew. He stepped into the ring and started bouncing around like Ali. The other kid climbs trough the rope and a crowd gathered around the ring. Big brother Tory was just as confident as Troy.

The bell sounded and Troy came out with everything he had and missed every punch he threw as the kid moved and jab and started to land almost every punch he threw. Troy was done in the first minute. He was staggering and reeling around the gym. He didn’t have a clue. It was a pathetic showing. He had no heart for fighting and he knew it at that very second. The look on his brothers face said it all. What made it worse for Troy was that almost every person in the gym was laughing as loud and as hard as they could. The fight crowd can be heartless sometimes.

Amazingly enough he came out for the second round. He was bloodied and beaten. He was knocked down or fell from exhaustion a few times but offered nothing in return. He looked like he wanted to cry. So did big brother. It was humiliating. I felt sorry for Troy but he made the choice and the other kid had no choice but to return fire.

They stopped it in the middle of the round and some drunk from the small crowd that had gathered, filled with liquid courage, jumped into the ring and shoved Troy. Demanding to fight him at that very moment. Troy just stood there with his head down. He was as ashamed of himself as anyone I have ever seen. He avoided eye contact with Andrew and I as he said goodbye and left the gym. He couldn’t get out fast enough. Like I said, I felt sorry for the guy.

Troy never came back to the gym and I never saw him again. There were several lessons to be learned that day. I hope he learned them.

One Kid . . .

Bobby Bell, Rick Farris, Dwight Hawkins & Manny Diaz. 1967 - Victoria Hall, L.A. These were my three amateur boxing coaches. I always did well with Dwight Hawkins in my corner. On this night, I stopped a boxer who fought out of the Jerry Moore/Henry Blouin stable.

By Rick Farris

We were all kids once. Some of us were lucky to have good parents, who were strong enough to put us on the right track. Sometimes we strayed, discovered that all the bad things they say would happen if we screwed up, actually would happen. Some of us like to push the envelope, learn the hard way, and such behavior takes a toll. One bad kid can sure do a lot of damage, and it has a ripple effect.

Sometimes home is not a happy place, and we have nobody to tell us what to do, or how to do it. Somebody will.
Hopefully that somebody is the right person, more often than not it's the wrong person. I knew a lot of kids in similar situations when I started boxing, just kids who'd wander off the street and make their way back to the gym behind manager Johnny Flores' garage in Pacoima.

Sometimes they were loaded, like this kid about my age who showed up with two buddies one evening in early 1967. He was loaded. His two buddies stood silent in the corner, as the kid told Johnny Flores that he could fight, and wanted to fight that night. He pointed to me, as I shadowboxed in the ring. "I want to fight him." the kid announced. We were about the same size, same age.

Flores smiled, he turned to me and winked, then turned back to the kid. "You want to box Ricky? OK."
The kid loooked at his friends and smiled big, the friends smiled back. They wanted to see their buddy kick some ass.
We didn't wear headgear, but Flores made the kid wear a mouthpiece. My trainer, Manny Diaz smiled when he put the mouthpiece in the kid's mouth. "You have to wear this, he'll knock your teeth out," I heard .

This was not a first. This happened once in awhile at Johnny's. I'd kicked a couple kid's asses, and my stablemates had too. Johnny never denied a young man a chance to realize his dream, and if trading blows with his boxers was their dream, he'd grant their wish. In the 60's, liability wasn't an issue, and you still could find men sporting a pair of balls.
When men were taught a lesson, they didn't have legal recourse, they just learned a valuable life lesson.

The kid who came in stoned with his buddies got his ass kicked that day. But he was tough, he didn't quit, his body just could not continue. He promised he'd be back the next day, he didn't show. However, about six months later he did show up. This time he came with a trainer, and his hair was cut. He was smiling, confident and clear. He and I would box again, and he had learned a few things during the months since we last slugged it out. His trainer was a good one. We would continue to box off and on, on occasion, many times over the next eight years. He did pretty well for himself, won a couple world titles, and became an L.A. legend. His name is Bobby Chacon.

Like me, Bobby Chacon found a safe haven in a boxing gym. We found a place where we belonged. I was lucky, several men such as Johnny Flores, Bobby Bell, Manny Diaz and Dwight Hawkins provided a solid example. I had great parents, my dad and I would bump heads a lot, my grandfather made it possible for me to box. That saved me. It doesn't matter how much opportunity a person appears to have, it all comes down to influence and choice. A fine line often seperates the best from the worst in life.

I don't know what motivated this thought. Maybe these photos are taking me back. I have a story I want to share with you guys. It's about my heavyweight stablemate, my best buddy. No, it wasn't Jerry Quarry, but our stablemate that was Quarry's sparring partner for the Mathis, Frazier & Chuvalo fights at the Garden. His story is better than Quarry's. Maybe next time?