Young Gildo: The Baguio Bearcat
By Emmanuel Rivera, RRT
PhilBoxing.com
Tue, 22 Apr 2025
If you were a fight fan in the 1920s or ‘30s, you couldn’t miss the name Young Gildo. He was everywhere—Manila, Australia, Japan, Hawaii—taking on anyone who would stand in front of him. He fought like a man who didn’t care about odds or records. Like someone who had nothing to lose and everything to prove.
He was born Hermenegildo Baguio in Manila on October 8, 1912. The name fit him like a punch. In Filipino, “Baguio” means stormy—and that’s exactly what he was. A storm in the ring. Unrelenting, fearless, and impossible to ignore. He didn’t know how to back up. He only knew how to throw.
Gildo grew up looking up to Pancho Villa, the Filipino flyweight who had already taken the world by storm. His father, a hotel chef at the Manila Hotel, loved the fight game and brought Gildo to matches every Saturday. At first, Gildo just watched. That didn’t last long.
By fourteen, he was in a real fight. Not some scuffle in the street—a full-on eight-round banger against a kid named Joe Parras. Parras wasn’t just a local loudmouth. He could fight. But so could Gildo. They went to war, and Gildo came out on top.
His father was proud but careful with his words. “You’re still too small,” he said. “Give it a year. Train. Then we’ll see.”
So that’s what Gildo did. He trained like a kid possessed. Sparred anyone who said yes. Picked fights on the street. Hit whatever he could punch. And when he came back a year later, he wasn’t a boy anymore.
But his real fight was waiting at home.
His dad was all in on boxing. His mom? Not a chance. When she found out her son had been fighting, she didn’t yell. She went straight for the broomstick—and laid into her husband. Not Gildo. Him. For letting it happen. But it was already too late. Her son was a fighter, and nothing—no broom, no words—was going to stop him now.
By the late ‘20s, Gildo’s name was rising fast. Fans loved him. Fighters hated him. He had an iron chin, a nonstop engine, and the kind of toughness you couldn’t teach. He didn’t win every round, but he never stopped coming.
Source: THE TELEGRAPH, BRISBANE, THURSDAY EVENING. DECEMBER 22, 1938
When Australia came calling, he didn’t hesitate. He packed a bag and left.
He landed in Sydney, and within weeks, folks were talking. His first big fight was against Billy McAlister. It was close. Controversial. Gildo lost the decision, but didn’t complain. He just kept swinging.
Over the next three years, he fought 64 times across Australia. That’s not a typo—sixty-four. He went toe-to-toe with names like Merv Blandon, Johnny Peters, Bobby Blay. He fought McAlister eight more times. No one ever questioned if he belonged. Not after that.
By 1933, he’d made enough to do what he always dreamed of—go home and take care of his family. He was ready to walk into the house, hand his parents the money, and say, “We made it.”
But life had other plans.
A letter arrived before he could sail home. His mother had died.
Just like that, the moment was gone. The image of her holding his hand, seeing what he’d earned—it disappeared. It wasn’t a punch. But it knocked him down.
He did what fighters do. He got back up.
Back in Manila, he gave his brother enough to open a barber shop. The rest went to his father. Then, with little left in his pocket, he left again. Couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t quit.
Seven fights later, he beat Pablo Dano to win the Bantamweight Championship of the Orient. Should’ve been a crowning moment. For Gildo, it was just another stop. The money wasn’t in Manila. The road was calling again.
He headed to Shanghai. The fights came easy. The money, too. But it didn’t feel like the proving ground he wanted. So he kept going. Looking for something real.
He found it in Japan.
Late ‘30s. Gildo was fighting in Tokyo, where Filipino fighters weren’t exactly welcome. He fought inside the baseball stadium in front of thousands. And when he started beating the local stars, the cheers turned to silence. Then to something colder.
He noticed men following him after the fights. Eyes that lingered too long. Word was, some Pinoy fighters had disappeared after winning too often in Japan. Gildo didn’t wait to find out if it was true. He got out after three fights.
But he wasn’t done with Japan.
In Honolulu, he faced Piston Kuriguchi—Japan’s machine-like puncher. The guy came at him like a buzzsaw. But Gildo had seen worse. He broke him down and took the win. That one meant something.
By the early 1940s, though, Gildo was running on fumes. The body that had taken a hundred beatings started to slow down. The gas tank didn’t last like it used to. The fire, once so loud, began to flicker.
In 1943, he knew.
It was time to walk away.
Sixteen years. That was his run. He never wore a world title around his waist. He didn’t get the parades or the posters. But he didn’t need them.
Source: Hawaii Tribune-Herald (Hilo, Hawaii) • Sat, Aug 11, 1934 • Page 4
Career Highlights
• Fought from 1927 to 1943
• 188 total bouts
• 108 wins—37 of them by knockout
• 55 losses, only four by KO.
• 24 draws
He went nine rounds of war with Billy McAlister. On Pancho Villa’s record, Villa was said to have fought a Baguio Bearcat twice, though it is unlikely it was the same man as Young Gildo. He earned his name the hard way—in Australia, in Japan, and everywhere in between.
Legacy of the Bearcat
Gildo never became a household name. But he was a fighter in every sense of the word. Stormy in name. Stormy in spirit. And for sixteen long years, he rained hell on anyone who stood across from him.
They called him the Baguio Bearcat. And they’ll never make another one like him.
Sources and recommended readings:
• Top Photo: Source: The Sporting Globe (Melbourne, Victoria, Australia) • Sat, Mar 11, 1944, Page 4
• Young Gildo Boxing Record: https://boxrec.com/en/box-pro/54233
• Young Gildo Boxing Record: https://boxerlist.com/en/boxer/herman-young-gildo/44708
• All photos and references in this article are properly attributed and comply with the U.S. Fair Use Doctrine
Click here to view a list of other articles written by Emmanuel Rivera, RRT.
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