Tony Bonsante had an internal debate on his hands. Should he wear a suit for his induction tonight, or the black flannel shirt and baseball cap proclaiming him the ‘No 1 Daddy,’the attire he wore into the ring during his entire professional career.

The ring wardrobe was a testament to where he came from and to his children, certainly worthy attire when considered under those conditions, even more so now that he is back in the environment where life started for him. With a tip of the hat to Gene Autry, who popularized the song, “Home on the Range,’’ Bonsante is truly just that these days.

Born in Crosby-Ironton and later a resident of Shakopee for a quarter of a century, Bonsante is once again back on the Iron Range, now living in Brainerd.

“I’ve always said you can take the boy out of the Range, but you can’t take the Range out of the boy,’’Bonsante quipped recently while discussing his career. “This is god’s country.’’

An Iron Ranger through and through, Bonsante displayed not only that same toughness we have come to identify with that part of the state, but the blue collar attitude that exists there as well, certainly in the environment of the gymnasium where he honed the skills that provided him with a respectable career in one of the toughest domains on the planet – the boxing ring.

Bonsante grabbed the attention of boxing bu s as an amateur while winning Upper Midwest Golden Gloves titles in five different weight classes, and attributes much of that success to his amateur trainer, Tommy Herron of Brainerd.

As a pro, he had three trainers, Hall of Fame conditioner Bill Kaehn and Hall of Fame heavy- weight Scott LeDoux, but his association with LeDoux lasted only two years.

“LeDoux had me standing in the middle of the ring and trading punches,’’Bonsante explained. “That’s not at all the way I fought. I wanted to box, but he was basically that kind of ghter,

a punching bag, give and take, and that didn’t suit me.’’

Consequently, Bonsante and Kaehn, who had a falling out two years earlier, patched up their differences and once more became a team. Luke Genz, a lifelong friend, was Bonsante’s trainer for his nal four bouts.

Bonsante credits Kaehn for much of what he learned that served him so well in the ring.

It is understandable that Bonsante is the sort who would return to his roots, as he has. After all, under Kaehn he learned boxing the way he says it was intended, jab, jab, jab for a few weeks before you are allowed to throw a right hand.

“If you learn to jab, hook and can throw the
right hand you can win 80 percent of your bouts,’’ he said. Classic boxing, the way it was intended, “Old school,’’ Bonsante said.

Old school, a tradition on the Range.

“I didn’t realize the strategy in the sport until I was older,’’ Bonsante added. “I’d much rather watch a fight that’s like a chess match than one with a quick knockout. If you watch, (former light heavyweight champion) Virgil Hill, not a lot of knockout power, but he’s technically very, very good. I didn’t appreciate that until later in my career. Bill Kaehn taught me that.’’

Bonsante had his highs and lows in the sport, like everyone but the two unbeaten champions – Rocky Marciano and Floyd Mayweather. He respects both for what they did in the ring, but it ends there for him with Mayweather, in view of his misdeeds outside the ring.

Bonsante is the only ghter to win ve Upper Midwest Golden Gloves titles in five different weight divisions, and along the way he learned lessons he would need to apply as a professional, especially at five-feet-nine.

“I kept getting heavier but not any taller,’’ he said. “I have T-Rex arms, not very long but I learned
to out-jab people. And I had to learn to bob and weave.’’

His tutelage under Kaehn served him well on many occasions. One of the foremost on the list was his 2003 ght against Tony Ayala, Jr., 31-1 at the time, for the IBA world super middleweight title. Ayala was a puncher who could take an opponent out with a single punch. The fight was on ESPN and Bonsante was a 15-1 underdog.

Kaehn had a plan. He had Bonsante move continually to his left, away from Ayala’s devastating left hook. “He’d use that hook to the ribs and
to the liver,’’ said Bonsante, so he increased his conditioning to stay on the move in the bout. “He was older and wanted to ght in the middle of the ring, go toe to toe,’’ Bonsante recalled. “Bill told me, ‘you box a puncher and you punch a boxer.’”

Bonsante stopped the heavy hitter in the eleventh round to win the title.

The other fight that comes to mind was his unanimous decision over fellow Hall of Fame inductee Matt Vanda in 2007 for the Minnesota middleweight title. A match between the two best fighters in the state at the time, and Bonsante’s boxing prevailed.

The bad blood that existed then seems to have dissipated for Bonsante over time. “Matt did a lot for boxing in Minnesota and I have a lot of respect for that,’’ Bonsante said. “He built huge crowds that followed him everywhere and that helped the sport.’’

One other fight stands out for Bonsante, his March 16, 2007 bout in the Mecca of boxing, Madison Square Garden, for the WBC Continental Americas middleweight title and the IBA world middleweight crown. Every fighter wants the opportunity to ght in the Garden, at least once, and Bonsante got his.

His opponent was Irish John Duddy, in a bout on the Eve of St. Patrick’s Day, on a card promoted by Irish Ropes’ Eddie McLoughlin.

“There were 5,000 people there and 4,900 of them were Irish,’’ Bonsante said. The Iron Ranger was cut accidentally in the third round. By the sixth round, it appeared the bout would be stopped until Bonsante raised holy hell. Yet,
by the ninth round “I was bleeding like a stuck pig.’’ The bout went to the scorecards and Duddy earned a unanimous decision. Duddy had won the rst six rounds and Bonsante the last three. “I was coming on,’’ he said.

Afterward, Duddy told Bonsante, “You are one tough SOB.’’

There was this memory for Bonsante as well: At ringside were Jake Lamotta, Gerry Cooney and Joe Frazier, who told him he “had more courage and more heart...’’ To which Bonsante had this rejoinder: “I’m from the Iron Range, that’s what we do.’’

Bonsante toyed with the idea of playing the theme song tonight that accompanied him into the ring during his ght days, an Aaron Tippin tune entitled, “I Got It Honest.’’

His wardrobe for the occasion could be an early clue.

What is certain is that he will display some of that Iron Range philosophy tonight. He always fought for his “kids.’’ Now, his daughter, Brittany, 26, and son Derek, 22, will deliver

his introduction, for induction into the Minnesota Boxing Hall of Fame.