Andy Chaney

Name: Andy Chaney
Alias: Young Chaney
Birth Name: Andrew Kwasnik
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland, USA
Birthplace: Poland
Died: 1956-01-00 (Age:58)
Height: 170cm
Pro Boxer: Record

"The Hardest Battle Of My Ring Career" by Andy Chaney (1923, Jan. 1) [1]

"My first trip to the post would have knocked the boxing inspiration out of almost anyone, but I needed money and, even though I suffered the worst licking in all my life that night, I'm still using my dukes to earn my livelihood, and, incidentally, wishing for Johnny Kilbane to give me a crack at the featherweight title.

Patrons of the Baltimore A.C., in Baltimore, Maryland, saw me get that walloping one night about six years ago. I was working at the Tim Decorating company, making boxes for tobacco and working on piece work. I used to make about $12 a week, which I always turned over to my mother. She gave me a dollar for spending money.

On Saturday afternoon I used to go to a public bathhouse for a swim. One day someone swiped my spending money while I was taking my plunge, and I was the most dejected kid in Baltimore. I picked up a local paper and saw there was some fights billed for the night.

I decided right then and there that I could get some spending money for the week, if I could only get a fight at the club.

No one knew me and I got the cold shoulder from the matchmaker. I hung around awhile and pretty soon he came to the door and called for Young Chaney. No one answered the call, so I stepped up and said: "Here I am; that's me; Young Chaney."

The matchmaker evidently did not know Young Chaney and accepted me as Young Chaney. I was put on with a chap called Buck Taylor, who weighed about 125 pounds, and I only tipped the beam at 100 pounds.

The bout was a four-rounder. In the first round my opponent was all over me and punches were coming from all directions. Near the end of the round he dropped me with a punch on the jaw, and I thought the roof has fallen on me. I heard the referee say "seven, eight," and the bell rang. It probably saved me. The minute's rest did me a world of good and I was fighting mad. "Rush him and keep rushing him," some one said to me, and I did. At the end of the four rounds I got the decision and was cheered for a long time.

I received $1 from a spectator and $2.50 from the matchmaker. I gave the two seconds fifty cents each and had $2.50 left. I surely felt rich."