They filled the arenas and pubs and streets every time Ricky Hatton fought, and they sang “there is only one Ricky Hatton” until dawn.
Ricky Hatton was the council estate boy, who grew up in a pub and took about 60,000 fans to Las Vegas when he was one of boxing’s top attractions. He was British boxing’s most popular boxer and that title feels like it will be his crown for a long, long time.
He won world title fights at 3am against the odds in his beloved Manchester, and he went down in glory in massive fights on other unforgettable nights in Las Vegas; each time the fans sang their endless chorus of devotion. And it was true; there was only one Ricky Hatton.
Hatton turned professional one night in 1997 at a leisure centre in Widnes and won, obviously. His name was not even on the poster, he was never the chosen one, the golden boy, the poster boy. He was just a kid from Manchester with a bit of amateur pedigree and a style that fans liked.
After all his fights in Manchester back then, he would have a Sunday special in his local, hosting a s*** shirt competition and drinking. The fans increased, the stories started to circulate – the kid who was not on the poster for his debut was suddenly selling a lot of tickets and he was the poster.
He was matched hard after six or seven easy fights and he improved, taking care of good domestic fighters and then he won the British title. In his 23rd fight, he won a version of the world title and that led to the run of fights at the old MEN Arena, and it was clear straight away that Hatton was adored. The Hatton party was about to launch.
Hatton fought at the MEN 12 times between 2001 and 2005, each time the crowds increased, the noise changed, and he became established as British boxing’s number one attraction.
It is hard to explain what happened in eleven of those fights when it was just the WBU belt on the line; then it was Kostya Tszyu, the great champion, and a fight at the MEN in the middle of the night. The bars were closed inside the MEN before midnight; the place was heaving with just under 20,000 avid fanatics there for their idol.
It was wild down at ringside and then the first chords of Blue Moon started to fill the space in Hatton’s sacred venue. It was an exceptional night, both boxers were exhausted when Tszyu was pulled out at the end of the 11th. There was bedlam that night as Ricky collapsed in rapture and pain to the canvas, it was close to 2am and Hatton was a global star. That was a serious party, a festival.
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Soon after that win, Hatton took his army on the road to Las Vegas for a trio of world title fights in 2007; British boxers had been in Las Vegas before and taken fans with them, but the Hatton numbers were simply overwhelming. His fans never stopped singing, gambling or drinking.
It is estimated by US Immigration that over 30,000 British people flocked to the city for the Floyd Mayweather fight in December of 2007. There were 10,000 at the weigh-in. Hatton owned Las Vegas, but the Mayweather stoppage was heavy on his heart; the Manny Pacquiao defeat in 2009 would crush him.
The following year, just over 50,000 attended his fight with Juan Lazcano at his beloved Etihad. It was a shutout win and then it was back to Las Vegas for two more fights, including the awful night with Pacquiao back at the MGM. The fans stayed loyal and held vigils when he walked away from the sport in 2009.
Hatton’s exit from the glory was difficult from the start. The boxer confronted his demons in a series of heartbreaking interviews. “Night after night,” he said in one. “I just couldn’t kill myself.” That is raw, honest and raw.
He was desperate and he had one more fight, one more night back at the MEN in his own neon excellence. He wondered if the limelight would cure the darkness; it never did. He lost and the chorus was even louder. There were more dark, dark days to come.
Hatton was clearly a deeply troubled man, and he never avoided his own problems. He confronted his addictions, and he confronted his mental health, and he spread the word that it is “OK to not be OK”. And he used his humour at all times – he was a very funny man.
At the time of his death, Hatton was preparing for an exhibition fight in Dubai. He looked in good shape, sounded fine and was planning on being in Dubai this week for a conference. There would have been more singing, no doubt, but the Hatton choir will never fall silent in admiration of a man they adored. Hatton gave his fans all that he had on both sides of the ropes.
He was, without doubt, the People’s Champion.