There's a warning above the rusting basement door at Pleasant Way Baptist Church in Germantown: You are entering the dungeon. To be more specific, you're entering Bozy's Dungeon, an underground boxing gym that has trained some of the country's best middle and heavyweight title holders.

It's the kind of place Rocky would have trained at before he got rich and wore leopard coats and gold chains. A heating lamp blows into the small, noisy room, crowded with 15 fighters. They're jumping, dodging, weaving and, of course, punching. Some are shadowboxing and sparring, others are having their way with speed bags. No one's chopping wood on the block in the corner, but judging from the nicks and gashes along its base, this ax gets some action.

Derek Ennis, known to all as Bozy, runs the gym. He's wearing a tan mechanic's coat and bandanna, and is holding a line of pipe insulation in his hand to fight the freezing temperatures. "We're not in no modern gym where they've got all those Nautilus machines," Bozy says. "Some of the best fighters come out of gyms like this."

The dungeon started in the 1960s as a training ground for the Police Athletic League. When the cops left, the gym fell to pieces and Bozy picked it back up.

The church is over a hundred years old and comes with its share of problems, like a leaky roof. But few of the fighters can afford monthly dues, and Bozy makes just enough to get by from his professional boxers. The gym donates as much money to Pleasant Way Baptist as it can scrape together, and leftover profits go to new punching bags or gloves. For Bozy, who turned pro in 1976, it's never been about the money.

"I think this right here kept me alive and kept me out of trouble, being in the gym," Bozy says. "That's what I'm doing for these young kids here. They were in broken homes and stuff. Now all of them look up to me like I'm their father."

Bozy's assistant, Clinton Barnes, agrees.

"Bozy's taken a lot of kids off the streets, a lot of troubled kids involved in gangs and drugs. He brings them in the gym and teaches them something different," Barnes says. "They don't have to sell drugs, they can come in here and train. And the training bit builds discipline."

Twenty-nine year old Aasim Beyah joined Bozy's Dungeon three months ago. He's been training since his preteen years, and is in this for the long haul.

"I've seen a lot of talent [Bozy] was working with and they looked real good," Beyah says, the sweat dripping off his face. "I'm getting in shape to make my pro debut."

Junior welterweight Demetrius Hopkins, Bernard Hopkins' nephew, is one of Bozy's professionals. Demetrius fought on the same card as Bernard in the Dec. 3 matchup in Las Vegas. Unlike his uncle, he won his fight, landing him at number eight in the world.

"A lot of them come in here and say how much does it cost or what do I have to do to sign up," Bozy says. "You don't have to sign up—just come right on in. I don't mind helping anyone, you know, if I see they're trying to do something constructive. As long as they're trying to do something positive, I'm behind them."