LAS VEGAS – The sweat drips off Ronald Ellis and he hotdogs in the Top Rank Gym. He beckons his sparring partner to hit him, and hit him harder. He coaches his “opponent” through the rounds, congratulating him on good shots or moves, and a smile is never far from his face.

He likes the challenge presented by the man in front of him but, more than that, Ellis loves his work.

It is around this time in a fighter’s career when their passion for the sport can be tested. 

Not only is he on a four-fight slide, but here he is testing prospects in a gym, a day before he heads to Mexico to spar with Canelo Alvarez ahead of his May date with William Scull.

Ellis has resided in the blue corner for a couple of years and he’s a hired gun for giving the best names good work in the gym, but don’t for a second label him a sparring partner, a spent bullet or someone who has been chewed up and spat out.

“Truthfully, in the gym, I just love to fight, and I love to get better – I’m always learning,” he told BoxingScene, having boxed eight brisk rounds.

“I’m just getting my rhythm back,” he smiles, registering his first spar in a couple of months.

“The minute you think you know it all, it’s over. So I’m always learning; always trying to get better. Unfortunately, I haven’t been getting the right nods and the right fights here and there.”

That could be considered an understatement. Ellis’ career has turned into a five-year-long kamikaze mission. He’s had a thankless run of fights, as hard as anyone can think of in the sport.

In 2020, he was coming off a win over Matvey Korobov and his lone loss, to DeAndre Ware, was consigned to the record books. Korobov should have been the springboard, but Ellis lost each of his last four; stopped in 11 by David Benavidez, outpointed over 10 by Christian Mbilli, halted in six by Erik Bazinyan, and outpointed in South Africa by Patrick Mukala. Those four opponents had combined records of 87 wins against two losses and a draw.

Starting with Mukula, Ellis starts putting the world to rights.

“Hey, he knows I whipped his ass,” the 35-year-old sighed. “Yeah, I wasn’t there, but you know how it is. Yeah, I was in another country, Africa.”

Ellis said fighting Mukula in Africa and Bazinyan in Canada didn’t help and, allied to out-of-the-ring issues with the politics of the sport, he felt at a disadvantage. 

“I’m fighting for myself, so I’m more level-headed now, I’m more free. I’m not trying to impress nobody. I can fight how I want to fight.” 

He’s a free agent now, too.

“But you can’t cry over spilled milk, but if I could do it right, if I could do it, and like, you know, if I was the manager, my manager, after the Benavidez fight… ‘Alright, now we can go back in. Now we can play a little bit.’ We can say Benavidez was too big [they fought at 168lbs]. [Say] I fight at 160, because the last fight in Africa was 160, so clearly I can make 160. So after the Benavidez fight, I should have got my feet wet again, but then I’m going in with Mbilli, 20-0, coming in on the B-side, [then] going to other countries. Once again, you can’t cry over spilled milk. I just got to get it.

“You know, it’s just hard, it’s hard,” he shrugs. “But I love the sport, and every bad decision, every mistake, you know, it kills it a little bit, but then I’m right back at it, so I really have to have a love for it.”

Ellis talks with a contagious enthusiasm. He’s not able to hide his ambition, and has no desire to do so. Even discussing his taxing gauntlet, you can’t shake the grin.

He’s proud of what he’s done, and understandably so. And in the gym, he takes selfies, makes time to talk to everyone, high fives those he knows, and those he does not, and brings joy to those he shares his radiant personality with.

Ellis has a solid foundation at home. A father of three daughters, he’s been with his wife, Leticia, since they were 15. They met in Massachusetts, where Ellis is from, and first met when they were just seven. She is his childhood sweetheart and high school love, and he couldn’t be prouder of that part of his life, too.

In fact, it is family that helps him keep his boxing dream alive. It is what motivates him, and why his journey will continue for the foreseeable future, even if he is at the foot of the mountain he has to scale once more.

It is not a daunting one, however, but one that he is relishing. That is partly because, learning from the past, he has done things the wrong way. George Bernard Shaw said wisdom was wasted on the old, but Ellis is sure he’s young enough and he’s learned enough to have a successful run. 

“These camps, man,” he reflects. “It’s hard to say… I was always doing something else. I always came in… It was just bad. It was just bad management on my behalf. If I could do it again, I’d do it the right way. I’d change a lot. I would change a lot, and I’d do it right.”

But he still believes he has plenty left to offer.

“I still, because me personally, I always say it ain’t over until these young boys is really whooping my ass here in the gym,” he says. “That’s when you call it quits, you know? I’m still not taking damage. I still fought a young boy in Africa and I felt like I got the decision. I made 159 and a half, which I didn’t do since I was 16 years old. So that was a plus. So it’s like when I don’t have so much on my plate, management-wise, promotion-wise, everybody telling me what to do, everybody’s pulling me a certain way, and I feel like I’m forced to take these fights because, you know, I gotta live. I got three girls, three kids, and a wife. I gotta take care of the family.”

And, as such, it is hard to turn down paydays when you want to put food on the table, and provide for loved ones.

“That’s true, that’s true,” Ellis concedes. “But then sometimes it’s just being hungry, trying to get right back into the spotlight, because after the Benavidez fight, truthfully, I could have back-tracked. Instead of fighting Mbilli, I could have got my feet wet and played it like that, but hey, Mbilli, he’s coming in here. It was just me being a fighter, being hungry. You’re getting greedy. I just took a little beating, then I jumped into another hard fight, which… can’t blame nobody but myself. I’m the one who’s taking it.”

But he’s also not taking it just for the cash. Ellis can fight, and each time he believed he could win.

“You’re going in there thinking, ‘Oh man, I feel good,’” he said.

Ellis lives in Vegas now, having originally moved from Lynn, Massachusetts, to Los Angeles. 

His daughters are nine, six, and four – and they’re all daddy’s girls.

He’s now deep in another camp, sparring Canelo and Jaime Munguia, waiting hopefully for a call that could change the trajectory of his career. 

“Truthfully, I don’t even call myself a sparring partner,” he says.

“[Aaron] McKenna [whom he sparred in the Top Rank gym], I helped him out because that’s my boy. Canelo, I always helped him out for years. Nine, 10 camps. And then every time over there, it’s kind of an opportunity. Cause it’s like, good luck. “Every time I go over there, I get opportunity and a fight comes up or something and I’m in the best camp, so I might as well. And I don’t think I’m done. I got two strong years, three strong – three tops.”

Ellis half-jokes about wanting to do a world tour, seeing more sights, breathing new life into his career that has tested his passion, and he dutifully nods when asked whether he loves the sport but hates the business of boxing.

“You said it better,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s all it is. The business. The amateurs was the best – when it was free and everybody really loved you. You know what I’m saying? Once the money gets involved, you’re just an animal. And it was like, you were doing it because you wanted to do it, there was no money involved. It’s like, ‘Oh yeah, I love it, I love it’. And that’s what shows. It shows you what you really want. My mind’s clear now so I can give it 100 per cent. And then that’s all I want from myself. I want to give it 100 per cent. Win, lose, or draw. It’s going to be a good fight and they’re going to love it.”

For years, the 160lbs division has not had its props. The likes of Carlos Adames, the WBC champion, the unified ruler Janibek Alimkhanuly, and the WBA titlist Erislandy Lara have not won universal approval in one of the sport’s blue ribband divisions.

“Oh yeah, they need a king at that weight,” Ellis smiles. “I just want to bring it back to the old days where they don’t count you out from a loss, especially a hard loss. You know what I’m saying? They count you out in boxing. You get a couple of losses, ‘Oh, this guy sucks.’ But they don’t see what really goes on in here. They don’t see the training and everything. And they don’t know the business side. They don’t know that nobody goes into a fight 100 per cent. And as a fighter, you’re supposed to prevail and do what you got to do. But sometimes it just don’t turn out that way. But then you got to take the right moves after a loss. After a loss, sometimes you come back; you fight somebody else. The business part just sucks. There’s a lot of fighters out there that didn’t really get their recognition they’re supposed to. Even when guys really beat somebody and then, you know, the judges… They know who really won, but they give it to the other guy. The other guy, after training his whole life, it was his last shot. He really won. Now you cut him off. Now his soul is broken. Everything’s broken. Now he got to go home. He don’t get the other big payday. Now he’s going backwards. Now he’s fighting for nothing; fighting for peanuts all over again.”

This is all rather close to the bone. Ellis is on the peripheries, fighting for a future tomorrow while claiming he’s not yesterday’s man. And his soul is not broken. 

The exuberant and likeable middleweight reminds himself once more of why he’s just spent eight rounds getting hit in the head – although while being defensively responsible and showing plenty of talent, not to mention experience – and why he hopes better days lie ahead. 

“It’s the family and to just put food on the table and just be a role model to my kids,” he sighs again, pressing his lips together. “Let them look up to me, you know? And I can’t quit the sport without getting me a couple of wins. That’s the real deal, man. I’ve been on the bad end. My kids hardly never see me win. I’m a winner, you know what I’m saying? So I want them to be like, ‘Oh yeah, yeah. My dad was really like that.’”