Clovis suited boxing legend Romero just fine

Editor's note: This is the second in a two-part series of stories about locals set for induction Saturday into the New Mexico Boxing Hall of Fame. Sunday's edition of The News featured Brooks Byrd.

CLOVIS — For Tony Romero, any challenges faced with gloved punches coming at him were nothing compared to making his way through the Ashau Valley while serving his country in the Vietnam War.

He was a Marine. Marines are tough; they have to be with the missions they are asked to carry out. And Romero was as tough as any of them. He survived the war, survived the malaria and wounds he suffered in it.

He came back to the U.S., had a memorable boxing career, a dizzying life of fighting, meeting celebrities, riding in limos.

Romero's service in Vietnam earned him a Purple Heart and a Commendation for Valor. Saturday, he will be honored for the boxing portion of his life, when he is inducted into the New Mexico Boxing Hall of Fame, along with fellow Clovis resident Brooks Byrd.

"I am excited. I'm honored that I got accepted," Romero said. "Especially with Brooks, because me and Brooks are still great friends, great buddies. We've known each other since we were in elementary school. We used to belong to a tumbling team at La Casita Elementary School in Clovis."

It was in those early, formative years that Romero's boxing career really began. When he was still a long way from being a pro, a long way from even competing as an amateur, he had his first boxing match.

"I think I was about 12," Romero said. "I got into little fights in the playgrounds. And we went up to the principal's office and then one of our teachers, Jim Starkey, took us to the gym and said, 'You guys want to fight? Put some gloves on.' We put some gloves on and the other kid starting crying after a couple of minutes."

And just like that, Romero was 1-0.

Through Starkey, a sixth-grade teacher with local boxing connections, Romero began training at a nearby gym, getting ready to box officially — with a ref, a bell, the whole deal.

"It was kind of scary at first," Romero said, "but I couldn't quit because I wasn't a quitter. I lost my first five fights and I thought about quitting then."

But he was tough. He forged on.

"I wound up winning six regional championships and five state championships and came out with a 96-14 amateur record. It was fun. We worked hard. ... We weren't babied. ... We didn't win every time, but 98, 99 percent of the time we won."

Romero's boxing career was interrupted by the Vietnam War. He had been boxing in Salt Lake City, Utah, trying to make it to a national tournament. He won his first fight in Salt Lake, lost his second, then came home to find a draft notice waiting for him.

He enlisted in the Marines, graduated from boot camp on the Fourth of July, 1968. By October he was one of the hundreds of thousands of American troops in Vietnam.

"When I got to 'nam, it was freaky," Romero said, "because after a couple of months in Vietnam, you knew that we didn't have any business there. We couldn't save those people. The worst thing about it, we had 58,000 troops die in Vietnam, not counting all the thousands that died when they came back, plus the ones that are sick now.

"But I'm an American. If this is what my government wants me to do, I'll do it. In fact, I'd do it all over again."

While serving, Romero caught shrapnel in his right hand and right thigh from a rocket-propelled grenade. But it was malaria that leveled him like an opponent's glove to the face.

"That's the worst thing I've ever had," Romero said. "I've had two heart attacks, but malaria, you're burning up and you're freezing at the same time. That's crazy."

When Romero finished his tour of duty, returned home, he wanted to continue his boxing career. He couldn't go to nationals right away because he had just started working for Cannon Air Force Base — where years later he would be honored on the Wall of Heroes — and didn't have enough seniority to take time off. The following year, though, Romero did find his way to California, where the career he always wanted began to flourish.

"I had some great people helping me," Romero said. "Jerry Moore was my coach and manager in California. And I trained in the same gym with Kenny Norton. In fact, I fought on the same card with Kenny Norton ... and several world champions. ... Just a ton of them that I was able to see and be on their card."

Romero fought one particular opponent - whose name now escapes him — three times. He beat that opponent in Los Angeles and impressed everyone, including the opponent's camp.

"My coach says, 'They want to fight you again in a couple of weeks in Lake Tahoe, Nevada,' " Romero recalled.

So off Romero went to the Silver State for a golden opportunity. After the plane landed in snowy Nevada, a limousine took Romero to a resort hotel, where he soon beat the same opponent again.

But that wasn't the most exciting part. Elvis Presley was doing a show at the hotel were Romero had fought, so Romero was brought to Presley's room.

"He was a great boxing fan," Romero said. "We shook hands. He asked me if I won and I said, 'Yes sir'. I was in there for about 30 or 40 seconds with him, just a quick thing."

But 30 or 40 seconds more than most people ever had in Elvis' presence.

Romero eventually fought that same opponent a third time, in San Diego, and lost. But his career as a featherweight and junior lightweight had become a whirlwind of boxing and fun. He earned a Ring Magazine Prospect of the Month notice. And was noticed by a couple of movie stars, too.

Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal.

"They wanted to talk because they did a movie on boxing," Romero said. "Just a bunch of questions. It was crazy, because as soon as I opened the door I recognized her. Ryan O'Neal, I didn't know him until he told me who he was.

"If it hadn't been for boxing, I would never have experienced anything like that."

Romero retired at 30 with a pro record of 21-8, after losing his last two fights.

"I wasn't getting the right sparring partners," he said. "So I thought, 'I can't do this if I can't get the right sparring partners.'"

And so it was time for Romero to settle into his home.

"I like Clovis," he said. "Los Angeles was just too fast for me. I love Clovis. Here's where it started and here's where it ended."

He's been a trainer ever since, but is preparing to soon retire from that. As tough an ex-Marine and boxer as he is, Romero has been battling cancer recently. And that, agent orange, heart disease and just generally being 69, are all coming at him like a flurry of jabs and uppercuts.

"So I'm going to hang it up," Romero said, "but I had a lot of fun."