March 31, 1950

"Tony Janiro laughed at the 12-5 odds against him last night as he fought former middleweight champion Rocky Graziano to a 10 round draw in MSG. In the 1st Janiro almost floored Rocky with fast lightning lefts and rights to the head. The New Yorker weathered the storm and was holding his own at the end of the round. After that it was a slambang battle for four rounds as Tony countered the former champ's round swings with dazzling left-right combinations to the head. Janiro lost his steam in the 6th and Rocky handed him a severe beating through the next three frames. In the 10th Janiro surprised with a blazing spurt that befuddled the ring rusty New Yorker." -Associated Press (April 1)

"One afternoon, Jack Dempsey strolled quietly into Stillman's gym on eight avenue and after passing the time of day with several old pals, he walked up on to the balcony while "Two Ton" Tony Galento was going through the motions of working out. Galento was fatter than ever, hopelessly out of condition and quite obviously doing nothing about it.

Anyway, he didn't see Dempsey and continued waddling lazily around the ring, clowning wisecracking and grinning as he fooled with his sparring parthers. After watching a couple of rounds Dempsey came down to ringside. He was wearing a beautifully cut light grey suit, tan and white shoes, and white silk shirt and when Tony caught a sight of him, he waved a glove at the ex champ.

''Hiya Jack" he grinned. ''You look like a million bucks dis afternoon'' Dempsey gave him a mean look, ''never mind how I look, you big bum" he said "lets see you do some work''

Galento must have thought he was joking, because he made no attempt to speed up his work and carried on ambling around until Dempsey blew up. ''Have you a pair of Gloves Ray?" called out Dempsey. Then taking off his coat, he stripped right down to his white silk, monogrammed underpants and vaulted into the ring.

''Now Tony'' he said ''it's you and me. I'II show you how we used to do it'' He began huming a little tune - and old Dempsey mannerism- and then, as Galento backed away, he flashed into action. Jack was 40 years old, but his body was lean and tanned, and for three memorable minutes he was the old Dempsey, the murderous, tearaway Manassa Mauler of the 1920's.

He ripped punches into Galento's podgy torso from all angles, split his lips with a terrific left and sent the blood spurting from his nose. ''Lay Off Jack'' Galento gasped as he staggered backwards vainly trying to cover up. But Dempsey showed him no mercy, he chased after him until time was called.

Still breathing easily Dempsey ducked under the ropes and began to dress, while Galento stood shaking his head in a semi daze and trying to wipe the blood from his face with the back of his gloves.

When dressed, Dempsey gave him one contemptuous look. ''That's how we used to fight!!" "

(Ray Arcel: A Boxing Biography)

1965

Two Ton

"He got to me, and I hated him for it, I never hated anybody before. I decided to punish him before I knocked him out. I wanted it to go into later rounds, but he kept calling me dirty names during the fight. So I ended it." - Joe Louis

Tony Canzoneri vs Jimmy McLarnin I -  May 8, 1936

In a marvellous battle of former champions, Tony Canzoneri met Jimmy McLarnin for the first of two bouts on May 8, 1936 at Madison Square Garden, New York.

Canzoneri was actually cut after he got into the ring, and before the first bell, after being stunned by the overhanging microphone during the referee's instructions.

................................

Tony had started out as a pro in 1925, Jimmy in 1923. Both men were nearing the end of their glory days, yet still mustered magical reserves to serve up one of the most thrilling fights of a golden era.

People had their hearts in their mouths that night as Canzoneri dug deep and rallied back from the precipice of destruction. He was nearly swept away in a frantic opening round as he teetered on the edge of the first knockout defeat of his career.

Tony was staggering and tottering drunkenly after being hit by three terrific right hands in succession by McLarnin. Jimmy, who always tried for the early knockout and was a merciless finisher, struck Canzoneri yet again and sent him into the ropes. McLarnin surged in for the kill, firing with both fists. Tony sought refuge in a clinch, but was soon rocking and reeling again as Jimmy ripped punches to the body and drove Canzoneri into a corner. The bell rang but it seemed that Tony had only bought himself a brief stay of execution.

Not so. One could never make such assumptions where Canzoneri was concerned. His comeback in the second round was a ferocious microcosm of everything he was. McLarnin, sensing an early night, picked right up from where he had left off and drilled Tony with a jolting left. More blows followed, but then Canzoneri sprang back to life like a sleepy man thrown under a cold shower. A left-right combination halted Jimmy’s march and three more lefts suddenly reversed the roles and cast Tony as the hunter. A right to the cheek forced McLarnin to hang on, but shelter was hard to come by as Canzoneri kept shelling him. A left-right combination dropped Jimmy to one knee as the crowd roared. People were jumping and jigging and throwing imaginary punches as they watched Canzoneri turning the tide and turning back the clock.

McLarnin, with his trademark pluck, refused to take a count. He needed to. He was quickly sucked back into the maelstrom and took a sustained pounding for the remainder of the round.

Thereafter, Tony Canzoneri was a man inspired who never lost the initiative. The pace of the fight remained exceptional right to the end as two of the ring’s greatest mechanics fired away at each other. Canzoneri had perhaps the smallest fists of any fighter of his day, yet possessed tremendous punching power. In the last minute of the ninth round, he unleashed one of his Sunday best and caught McLarnin flush on the jaw. Jimmy was all over the place and nearly out as Tony followed up with another big salvo.

McLarnin, as tough and as gutsy as any man who ever stepped into a ring, simply would not go under. But Jimmy was in a sorry state as he came out for the tenth and final round, the left side of his face swollen and bruised. Canzoneri was too tired by that stage to apply the finishing touches and cap a brilliant performance with a knockout. But it really didn’t matter. He was the hero of New York City.

(by Mike Casey)

Tony DeMarco Wins The Title

The crowd noise was at fever pitch as I walked the pathway to the ring. The closer I got, the more my friends and fans shouted encouragement. I was moved. I climbed the steps and entered my corner of the ring.

As my manager and trainer gave me last minute instructions, they had to yell over the shouts of the crowd. I looked at the people sitting ringside, recognizing many of them. All were waving, smiling and screaming words of encouragement as I sat waiting for the referee to call us to the center of the ring. I told myself that, with God’s help, I wouldn’t disappoint the fans. I was ready. This was the moment that I had worked for all of these years. It was almost surrealistic.

After introducing several celebrities in the audience, the ring announcer, Freddie Russo, said in his booming voice, “Ladieees and gentlemen, tonight we have a fifteen round fight for the Welterweight Championship of the World.” As is customary, he introduced the challenger first, “Weighing in at 145 ½ pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, the challenger with a record of forty-five wins and six defeats, the Flame and Fury of Fleet Street, Tony Demarco!” The cheering was deafening and seemed never to end. When Johnny Saxton, the reigning champion was introduced, the cheering for me had not yet subsided.

Mel Manning, the referee, gave the instructions to each of us before we went back to our corners to wait for the bell. We stared at each other from our respective corners. It seemed as though our eye contact brought us closer and closer to the middle of the ring. We were both eager for the fight to start.

The bell finally rang and we charged on one another, hurling leather. This was the defining moment. Immediately I threw punches to Saxton’s head and body. I seemed to get the best of him with my body punches. The fact is that body punches don’t knock you out but they have a devastating effect on your stamina. It was certainly the case with this fight.

Between rounds my trainer, Sammy Fuller, told me to keep using body punches and not to let up. I continued to throw body punches at every opportunity. We went back and forth, round after round, but the body shots on Saxton were finally taking their toll. Whenever I could, I threw left hooks and continued until I could see that they were hurting Saxton.

Johnny was a devastating puncher, and believe me, he was inflicting some real punishment on me, but I began to wear him down.

The excitement mounted with every round. It got to a point where Saxton and I walked to the center of the ring and just stared each other down until the bell rang to start the round. My adrenaline was off the charts, and I was throwing shots that were coming from left field. A couple of times, Mel Manning, the referee, had to come between us to make sure we didn’t throw any punches before the bell rang.

For the first thirteen rounds, the fight seesawed back and forth between the two of us. At the beginning of the fourteenth round everything changed. I hit Saxton with a combination of punches ending with a vicious right that sent him to the canvas. He was hurt and the crowd went wild. Saxton struggled to his feet before the count of ten. Looking back at his condition at that point, I think it would have been better for the Champ if he hadn’t tried to stand up. He was helpless and defenseless as I attacked with punch after punch. I caught the Champ with a relentless array of left hooks and right crosses that were devastating. I hit him with a total of twenty-four consecutive punches that were right on the mark.

The crowd was amazed at the amount of punishment the Champ was capable of taking. Many in the crowd shouted for the referee to stop the fight before it was too late.

After those twenty-four punches, Johnny Saxton, the champion of the world, was dead on his feet. The Champ was helpless and the referee stopped the fight. I, Tony DeMarco, Leonardo Liotta, had reached the top of the mountain. I was the new undisputed Welterweight Champion of the World.

(by Tony DeMarco)