His baptismal name was borrowed from the local parish
priest and an advertisement on a passing train, but
anyone familiar with boxing in Minnesota and beyond
knew him simply as My.
My Sullivan, an athlete who could play just about any
sport and excel at it as well, but it was boxing that
become his passion and in which he became known
throughout the state and to sports fans of all stripes.
Well known?
He could walk down the street in Chicago, this St. Paul
fighter, and be stopped by someone or hear his name
called out.
He was second youngest with eleven siblings, born to
parents from Ireland who settled in St. Paul, in the Rice
Street area, and whose DNA endowed this particular
son with the natural ability to play just about any sport
he found appealing.
His daughter Colleen recalls the story her father told of
being drafted by the New York Yankees and assigned
to one of their farm teams. It wasn’t long thereafter
that he took umbrage at the decision of an umpire and
punched him. “He was so scared that he jumped on
a train and came back to St. Paul,’’ said his daughter,
Colleen. “That was always a big regret of his. He wished
he had stayed in baseball.’’
A natural athlete, he won a figure skating contest in
St. Paul, won a horseshoe pitching contest, and was
tough to beat at three-cushion billiards. “It was just
a gift he was born with,’’ Colleen added. “He had
coordination and strength.’’
He was 15 years of age when he played for the Yankees,
a preposterously young age and a source of mystery
to his daughter, until she queried him. “I asked him
one time how he could have gone into sports at such a
young age,’’ she said. “He altered his birth certificate so
that the year of birth appeared as 1901 instead of 1907.’’
Although her father was long since retired from the ring
by the time Colleen was born, he instructed her in the
sweet science at various opportunities. “I asked him one
time why he went into boxing,’’ she said. “And he told
me because he loved it. He loved climbing through the
ropes and into that ring,’’ she said. “I was just a kid when
we’d watch the Friday night fights together.’’
Now, about that name and her father’s baptism.....
As told to Colleen, the local priest came to the house
to baptize the newest member of the Sullivan family.
“What will his name be. You must have a name,’’ the
priest informed her. Colleen’s grandmother, having
already named 10 others, was perplexed. “What’s your
name,’’ she asked the priest. “He said it was Andrew,’’
Colleen added. When asked about a middle name, her
grandmother peered out the window at a passing train
and saw the name Myron on a boxcar. Her newborn
thus became Andrew Myron Sullivan, know much later
in boxing circles as “My.”
A welterweight, Sullivan’s first fight took place on
November 6, 1925 at the Fargo Auditorium in Fargo,
N.D., against Frankie Camden, also making his
professional debut. His last bout took place on June
21, 1934 against Solly Dukelsky at Shewbridge Field
in Chicago. Sullivan’s first bout was declared a draw by
newspaper decision. He and Camden met again, on
February 5 the next year, and Sullivan won on points,
again a newspaper decision. Sullivan retired after
Dukelsky stopped him, having compiled a 34-12-3
record that included 25 knockouts. He was 18-6-1 in
25 additional bouts decided by newspaper decision.
My Sullivan played billiards, owned a billiards hall in his
retirement from the ring and owned a saloon, but never
drank himself. People seemed to know him wherever
he went.
“He’d walk down the street in Minneapolis or St. Paul
and always saw people who knew him, Colleen said.
“He’d be in a restaurant and someone would come to
the table to talk.’’
Vacation? “His idea of vacation was to go to Chicago
and see a baseball game,’’ Colleen added. “My younger
brother went with him once. He later asked me if I
knew what it was like to walk down the street with
dad and everybody knew him. He said it was the same
in Chicago.’’
St. Paul Pioneer Press columnist Don Riley once wrote
that My’s only shortcoming was his aversion to training,
that he sometimes lost fights he should have won.
Without this shortcoming, Sullivan could have won a
world title, Riley opined.
On December 29, 1926, he won by newspaper
decision over Jackie Conway for the vacant Minnesota
welterweight title at Kenwood Armory in Minneapolis.
He kept the title by decision over Billy Light, a fellow St.
Paulite he beat three times, on February 15, 1929.
If My had Light’s number, there were others who had
his. He lost three times to Canadian welterweight
champion Frankie Battaglia and twice to fellow
Minnesotan and Hall of Fame inductee King Tut.
Sullivan undoubtedly had a superior sense of balance.
His daughter has a photo of him that seems to back
up this supposition. “He is sitting on a horse,’’ she said,
“and balancing a billiards stick on his chin.’’
Sadly, Sullivan suffered a stroke at age 62. “He was still
young and active and he lived another 13 years,’’ Colleen
said. “But he could no longer play billiards and lost his
speech and partial use of one of his arms. He could
walk, but he could no longer drive.’’
Yet, by that point in his life Sullivan had already
accomplished a great deal, enough in the boxing ring
to earn a place in the Minnesota Boxing Hall of Fame.
