Ricky Hatton has never been a polished type of star. It was not created for velvet ropes or supple tributes. He was a manchester to the bone-loyal, steadfast working class. And four days before his death at the age of 46, he said, most importantly for him, he wanted to be remembered as “one of the boys.”

The man we knew Hitman He was found dead at his house in Manchester on Sunday, September 14. The shock was broken by British boxing and more. He spent decades, throwing hooks that made the arenas shake, but what he wanted was no more belts or headers. It belonged – beloved like Frank Bruno, loved by his own city and accepted by fans who saw him.

“I was a man of the people”

Talking to the former world champion Darren Barker in what became his last intelligence, Hatton put it. “I am very proud when people say” our honestly “and” Our Ricky, “he said. “I am not saying that we were the best, but we were probably the two most loved. I was a man of people, Jack-Te-Lad, a boy from a day who could not give two s **** and say as it is.

He added: “I would prefer to be Ricky Hatton than the greatest in history, but everyone thinks I’m advertising.” For a warrior who packed 22,000 on the men’s arena and 30,000 in Las Vegas, he says it all. People remember me as a hell warrior, but also one of the boys. “

Fame has never changed the kid from the property

Hatton told Barker that his life remained close to his roots even after glory. “Life has changed for me, my children and my family when I defeated Kostya Teszyu. But I don’t think I changed too much. Even today, the salary I lead, and the house I have is only 10 minutes from the council’s assets.

“Even with all the frigid things that I achieved through boxing, I still go to local and play darts on Monday evening and play football for veterinarians on Sunday afternoon. My colleagues are now the same colleagues with whom I went to school, without slow newcomers, always the same colleagues.”

This stubborn loyalty – towards pubs, partners, to Manchester City, to the same venerable streets – was what the fans felt. He was a hero who could enter every pub and did not have to buy a mug. Children who have never seen how he fights live, still stop him for photos because they saw clips and sensed reality.

Fighting with your own shadows, helping others with them

Hatton did not hide this life after boxing. Losses for Mayweather and Pacquiao left scars and then depression. But he refused to stay. He got aid. Then he used his pain to aid others.

“I didn’t want to tell my colleagues or family, I didn’t want to worry them, so I kept it,” he told Barker. “I entered the gym or in a pub and I was the life and soul of the party, even more than normal, because I tried to excessively compensate for what was happening in me.

“Nobody knew and it was very arduous. I thought I could sort it, but I couldn’t. The best thing I did was that I realized that I could beat him or him, I could do it or do it, but I couldn’t sort it myself and I had to talk to someone and the best thing I did.

“You feel that you can talk to a stranger better than your family or friends. You don’t go to boys – and I have good colleagues – but you don’t feel like that. I did with my mother and dad and I split with my Missus and I didn’t want to worry about the rest of the family. So you keep it and I didn’t hold it.”

After obtaining aid, Hatton used his experience to aid others. “Some of my boxers tell me that they repaid their mortgages and thanked me – that’s what it is about,” he said. Letters came from people who heard his story and found hope. This gave him the goal: “It makes me feel good that I helped others.”

A warrior who never left us

Hatton did not want statues or saint. He wanted to be a boy from the street who made him huge, but he never looked at anyone. It’s uncommon in boxing – or anywhere. Or maybe that’s why the news of his death crosses so deeply.

He survived brutal nights, public defeats, private battles, and he still found strength to tell an intimidated child to keep his chin a few days before leaving. If this is not the size, what is it?

Rest straightforward, Ricky. You were one of us – and you will always be one of the boys.

Watch a full interview: