Over the years, I’ve spent many evenings working from a bakery on Dundas Street. I’d usually take advantage of the free parking around the corner on Sheridan and since the short walk from my car to the door wasn’t long enough to smoke a full cigarette, I’d normally find my self standing in front of the black and white mural of Muhammad Ali. [I am fully aware of the irony]. A towering painting of 1960s Ali posing next to a line of old air conditioning units and gas meters. Behind it a handpainted tribute: “Toronto. Canada. March 1966. Muhammad Ali Training for the World Heavy Weight Championship VS Toronto’s George Chuvalo.” To the right, a door with a small black awning and the Sully’s Boxing Gym logo. To the left, an open basement window. Through it, I’d enjoy a few minutes of amateur sparring before continuing to the bakery.
Sully’s remained in the back of my head for years—one day, we’d do a story on it. I would occasionally bring up Sully’s in conversation until one day a friend passed on a phone number, “Call Philip Pereira. He’ll help you out.”
I called, we talked and he invited us to meet him at Earl’s Fight Shop. “I’m here now. How do you take your coffee?” We met, and I hit record out of habit—turns out Philip is husband to Danielle, son-in-law to Joe Manteiga, owner of Earl’s, the unofficial face of Sully’s and a guy who has a lot to say.
Noah Ganhão: This place is a museum.
Philip Pereira: Yeah, we basically stripped the gym and brought everything here—all of these posters were just taped to the walls. The framing guy loves me. [laughs]
NG: Love it. Take me through these.
PP: So… Sully’s Boxing Gym. That’s Sully right there [points to a photo on the wall]. He was a boxing promoter. He was very flamboyant. When he walked in a room, you knew Sully was there—big hair and big glasses. He was the man.
NG: Hair quaffed up eh.
PP: Oh, yeah. He was a beauty [laughs]. He had deals with police departments where when they would arrest a kid for shoplifting or other silly things, they would bring them to Sully and give the kid a choice—train in the gym for two weeks or jail. Sully could turn them into champions. That was just who he was. He was interested in helping more than making money.
NG: I was thinking there was a Don King connection with the flamboyancy, but missing Don’s love for money.
PP: He just wanted to get by. So pre-Sully, the gym was on Queen Street right around Dufferin. [Boxing promoter] Deacon Allen owned it and it was called Toronto Boxing and Athletic Club. When Deacon passed away [1964], Sully makes a deal to buy the gym. He renamed it Sully’s Boxing Gym and moved it to 109 Ossington.
NG: That’s where I live.
PP: So you know the plaque.
NG: Yes, Ali vs Chuvalo.
PP: That’s right. A body shop called Mundial Auto Repairs used to be there and the gym was upstairs.
Fast forward to 1966 when they wouldn’t let Muhammad Ali box in the US because he refused to fight in the Vietnam War. He comes to Toronto and boom, makes the deal. Done. He starts training at Sully’s Boxing Gym.
My father-in-law had just moved to Canada. He lived on Humbert Street. He’d walk to Ossington and boom—Sully’s Boxing Gym. He’s 16, had just moved to Canada from Portugal and who’s running up and down Ossington? Muhammad Ali. So he starts going to Sully’s everyday to watch Ali spar. Sully, was charging one or two dollars to watch [this money went to kids in the neighbourhood]. And then Ali would come outside, and give the kids a dollar to have foot races up and down Ossington.
NG: $2 to watch Ali? God damn, I can’t even get a coffee for that.
PP: So after Ali left, my father-in-law, Joe Manteiga, was at the gym every day, and Sully says, “listen, kid, you’re here every day watching these guys spar, the next time I see you, you’re going to train.” So Sully starts training him, he ends up becoming a Golden Gloves boxer, one of his best fighters.
NG: So that’s the beginning of their relationship…
PP: Ya… one of the only guys that really gave a shit about Sully. Later, he and my mother-in-law started taking care of him. They would go make him food, clean his apartment…
NG: And this is when? Time-line…
PP: This is probably in the 90s.
NG: So what’s Joe doing at this point? He’s not boxing, right?
PP: No, no, he worked for Maple Leaf Gardens. He would go to the gym after work. He’s 75 now and when he retired, was the longest serving MLSE employee.
NG: Wow.
PP: At this point, Joe’s already taking care of the gym, then Sully passes away in 1999. Joe keeps going in every day to unlock the door…
Sully’s around here somewhere… he’s at the gym I think… they cremated him.
NG: Damn, still kicking around here.
PP: Oh yeah. When he passed away, a lawyer asked Joe to come in. Sully ended up leaving him, like, five Cadillacs and the gym.
NG: And the gym is still on Ossington?
PP: When he inherited it, the gym was on Frazier. They had moved out of Ossington… and then he ends up moving to Lansdowne and Bloor. Then the old factory at Dovercourt and Dupont. When they knocked that down, he moved to Ossington and Dupont.
But the problem at the gym was that nobody really paid. Everybody went there for free, and when rent was due, Joe would yell out to whoever was there, “Hey, rent is due so you guys got to pay.” But, because this guy helped him with his cell phone… and this guy brought a couple of two by fours from work… nobody payed.
NG: So he didn’t think closing down was an option?
PP: He couldn’t. He loved it.
NG: So he’s at Dupont and Ossington, paying rent and just getting by.
PP: Right… and he ends up getting evicted —they give him 30 days notice to get out. He was paying $2,000 and now rent was going to be five, six, seven, eight?
NG: Ouch… bit of a steep jump.
PP: So he throws in the towel. He says to his daughter Danielle, “I’m done. If you guys want it, it’s yours. I’m, 70 and can’t do this anymore—I’m not putting my name on $6,000 when I can’t pay $2,000.”
NG: So that’s when you and Danielle take over Sully’s.
PP: Yeah. We always knew that there was a brand. We had talked about just making t-shirts and selling them online—let him run the gym and just build the shit out of the branding.
Danielle was already starting to take over while her father was there but it was a struggle. She was going into “their” home and telling them what to do, and that was a problem. “No no no, this needs to be here.” “No no no you can’t move that.” “No no no that guy can’t pay.” Everything she would try to change was a problem.
NG: Some people don’t take kindly to change. What about the eviction?
PP: A blessing in disguise. One night, we’re all packed up with boxes everywhere and who walks in the gym? John Tory. We’re at home and Tony Morrison, one of our trainers, tells him, “we’re closed.”
NG: To the mayor?
PP: Yeah! He says, “I’m here to help you, I’m John Tory, the mayor of the city.” Tony’s like, “What? Hold on.” He calls us, “Hey John Tory is here… the mayor.”
NG: How did how did you end up on his radar? Were you guys writing the city?
PP: We had started a GoFundMe. Breakfast Television found out and went there to do a thing about the eviction. We were trying to find someone to say, “hey, I have a building. I can rent it to you.”
But nobody. A bunch of dead ends. We’re getting offers from people trying to buy the name or wanting to partner…
NG: Everyone wants to take advantage and nobody wants to help.
PP: Yeah and you got to do this because of your heart, not because of your pockets.
So, one day, I’m walking by Dundas and Sheridan and I see that the basement of the paint store is for rent. Joe happens to be great friends with the owner of the building, so I call him up and tell him my situation and he says, “okay, yeah. Let’s do it, it’s yours.” They build us everything and now we have a spot. Our trainer was on holidays for two weeks, so my wife and I move the gym. When he comes back from holidays he’s in our house! That was 2019.
NG: How did he react to that?
PP: [laughs] I don’t mean that in a bad way but these guys just had bad habits. I don’t have a boxing background—I’ve never boxed—but I know how to run a business.So we start doing “crazy” things… like getting a website, cleaning company, going cashless… [laughs]
NG: A real revolution. How’d the members take to this?
PP: We had to raise our membership from $50 to $90, if I remember correctly. People were saying things like, “but I helped Joe with his cell phone” or “but I bought a speed bag for the gym in 2011.” Oh, really?
NG: And how much was that worth?
PP: Back in 2011? $19. So I start doing the math and I’m showing them, you’ve paid about three cents a month. You’ve been coming here for eight years because you bought a speed bag? C’mon.
NG: You want to explain, if we don’t do this, there won’t be a gym to go to.
PP: They didn’t care. We lost a lot of members… and friends, that weren’t really friends, of course. We even had people sneaking through the window so they wouldn’t have to pay.
NG: Sounds like too much work to me.
PP: It’s ridiculous. It was a lot of grinding those first years… and then the pandemic hit. Luckily, the landlord was amazing—I can’t say enough good things about him.
NG: How’s it been since?
PP: We’re doing okay. We just keep reinvesting, you know? Everyday at 3:30, we do a free boxing class for kids 6 to 12. Then at 4:30, we do a free teen class for kids 13 to 18. It introduces the grade eight kids to the grade nine kids and it helps them make friends. At that point, high school is the biggest move of their life, so to walk in and have some familiarity is huge.
NG: And keeping up with bills?
PP: We’re a not-for-profit, so we get a little bit of funding from OLG. They do a bingo thing and part of the proceeds are divided between a bunch of charities. It helps, but if we didn’t have it, we’d just have to work harder.
NG: Fair. Why take this all on though? I get why Joe did it—his connection to the gym and Sully—but you didn’t grow up a boxer. Why this?
PP: This is my midlife crisis. I go there and I hang out. I walk around, and I talk to the women, men and kids, and try to help them out or give them advice… and they give me advice. I network. I guess I could go buy a Lamborghini but I enjoy being there, just smelling the place and seeing the good that we’re doing with the kids.
NG: Fuck a lambo. You see value in what you do. That’s tight.
PP: I didn’t see the value in it before. It felt like a lot of headaches for nothing. Then 2024 rolls around and I’ve been around long enough to see that 15 year old kid who is now 20, and he’s shaking my hand saying, “Because of you…” or “Remember that girl? We’re married…” Or “Remember that guy you introduced me to? We started a business…” Then it was worth it.
NG: Love that. It finally clicked.
PP: It took years to figure out why I was here. At the beginning, it was just instinct. This place has been around since 1943—it’s a community staple, we couldn’t shut it down… but I also didn’t understand why I was there, until recently.
NG: Now we have Earl’s Fight Shop too.
PP: Yeah, we realized that there was nowhere in the city to buy boxing equipment. Kids were carpooling to Pickering for gear. So I start running some numbers and of course, on paper it all makes sense [laughs]. Opening a store needs minimal work. We just have to buy a bunch of inventory and if it doesn’t work, we sell the inventory and make our money back. It sounded like it made sense. [laughs] But we are doing okay.
NG: Easier said than done I imagine… you opened in October right?
PP: October. Yeah… a lot more work went into it than I had thought. Plus I own a towing company, so I have that as well.
NG: What does Danielle think about all of this?
PP: [laughs] My wife’s like, “if you open that, it’s on you. I don’t want anything to do with it.” I got the hook in and she helps but she does still say, “it’s our gym. It’s your store.”
NG: Do you live in the area as well?
PP: I live down the street. I’ve been circling this block for almost 50 years. I have the store here. I have the gym there. My kids go to school here.
NG: A tight triangle. Do your kids box?
PP: Yeah, they’re fifteen and ten. I have to force the older one, but the younger one is a beast.
NG: So if you don’t have time to be at “your store,” who’s at the front desk?.
PP: All of the staff are boxers. One of them is in university to be a teacher—she actually tutors my kids. Two are very serious about boxing. Kyle, is in school to become an electrician. They run the store. [Points to Sam, who’s working this afternoon] He comes to the gym at five in the morning, trains till about nine and I’m pretty sure sleeps on the couch till ten [laughs], then opens the store at 11.
Do you have time to walk over to the gym?
NG: Of course, let’s go.
PP: [Starts pointing to photos as we walk out of the store] That’s George Chuvalo. That’s a young Eddie Melo in action. This was a restaurant that Sully used to own before he bought the boxing gym. That’s from the 40s. I just love that picture.
NG: These are unreal. So much to look at.
PP: Sully was a hoarder and my father-in-law “inherited” that from him—being a hoarder that is. [laughs] Growing up, my wife would have stuff from The Gardens stuffed under her bed… in closets… in the garage. Sully was the same way, so when he died, my father-in-law inherited all his trunks and boxes. Now I have a garage here, a garage in Mississauga, my garage at home, and my house all filled with memorabilia.
NG: As someone who isn’t storing all of this, I’m happy to walk around and benefit from his hoarding.
PP: This is Coach Alan at Sully’s Boxing Gym. That’s my father-in-law over here. One. Two. Three… I never realized how many pictures there are of Joe. This picture was taken by a guy who was holding a camera in one hand and a beer and the other. When the photographer passed away, he willed it to a family friend. Since the friend had no use for it, he walked in and said, “hang this in your store. That’s where it needs to be.” That’s Jake LaMotta… Sugar Ray Leonard… That’s Rocky Marciano and Conn Smyth… Angelo. Dundee… here’s another Muhammad Ali picture, signed.
Anyways, let’s head over to the gym
NG: So, where does the name “Earl’s” come from? Why not keep Sully’s?
PP: That’s Sully’s first name. Earl Sullivan. We didn’t want anyone to think it was affiliated with the gym and assume this was a play to poach from other gyms. By the time everyone figured it out, I had already built a relationship with the other gym owners and we were cool.
NG: [We get to the gym] The Ali mural…
PP: So one day this guy walks by and asks, “do you want a mural? Can I paint this on the side of your building?”
NG: Who’s the artist?
PP: Ben Lory. I tried getting him to come back and do something at the store but he disappeared.
NG: Is that the window people would slip through?
PP: Yes. [laughs] Let’s go in. [Makes some introductions] This is Tony Morrison, our head trainer. This is Leroy, he taught Tony everything he knows [laughs]. As you can see, the theme of pictures on the wall continues at the gym too.
NG: So any champions from the gym?
PP: Champions? Tony Morrison. There you go [laughs]. Former Canadian Heavyweight Champion. There’s actually a lot of pro fighters that have come out of here but lately we’re more focused on amateur and community as a whole.
So this is the gym. It starts getting busy from 3:30 on, when the little kids that come in. There’s probably anywhere from, 10 to 25 kids. At 4:30, the older kids and adults start to come in. Tony will be coaching on that side and Rico is on this side, he’s our technical coach. It’s very, very organized confusion. [laughs].
NG: Seems like everyone gets it.
PP: Yeah. You basically start on this side with Tony and make your way to Rico on that side. While you’re doing Tony’s class, you’re seeing your next step on that side.
NG: Is this the $19 speed bag? [pointing to a taped up bag]
PP: Ah, no. [laughs] We’re slowly replacing the old equipment with new, which means some is still pieced together with duct tape and chains—it’s beautiful. The biggest thing we don’t have here is funding. That’s what we’re missing. With money, we can do more with the kids programs, take these kids to the US, and show them other boxing gyms or enter tournaments in Quebec. Right now, we can’t do that.
NG: Have you applied for grants?
PP: We’re eligible but there’s a lot of red tape… and it’s only me and my wife. That’s the problem.
NG: The Toronto rental market isn’t doing you any favours either.
PP: Definitely not. Eventually, we’re going to get kicked out of not only this community but out of Toronto because we won’t be able to keep up with the rent increases. I’ve considered selling my house to buy a building. That’s our goal, buy a building and secure a spot in this neighbourhood. Being in this neighbourhood is the most important thing. When we came back here, this was home. Eventually I want my kids to take over. This is for them, and when they take it over, they’re going to send us a couple hundred bucks… to Florida [laughs]
NG: In that same vein, I find boxing and maybe fighting in general is very much a family thing—they create dynasties. You see a boxer and his kid’s a boxer, his grandkid is a boxer…
PP: It’s generational. My older kid, I’m waiting for it to click with him. It hasn’t clicked. He’s good but he doesn’t put in the work. The minute it’s structured, he wants out. The minute I tell him to do Tony’s workout or push ups or cardio, he’s out…. But he’s always ready to hit the bag or to get in the ring. If I let him come in and do what he wants, he’s happy. My little guy. Same thing. He learned from the older one. [laughs]
There’s a fighter who’s been coming here since he was eight years old. He was the first one to hide from Tony’s drills. Then one day it clicked. He loved it. Now he’s a professional boxer… it’s his whole life.
NG: I feel like there’s a certain hunger that needs to really consume you.
PP: My kids are not hungry. [laughs]
NG: I’m hungry. Best pizza in the neighbourhood?
PP: I’m a North of Brooklyn guy.
NG: Solid choice. They used to have a ghost kitchen at the back of Get Well. They’ve left but Get Well does their own pizza now. It’s great.
PP: I think I know the place. It’s like 80s modern.
NG: Arcade machines. Yellow sign.
PP: There’s pizza there?
NG: Yep. They’re slinging pizza inside at the back of the bar.
PP: I’m starting to do a lot of Pizza Nova because I can feed the whole family for 30 bucks [laughs].
SULLY’S BOXING GYM
1554 DUNDAS ST W
TORONTO, ON
SULLYSBOXINGGYM.COM
INTRO: DAVID GANHÃO
INTERVIEW + PHOTOS: NOAH GANHÃO
