I was absolutely blindsided when I learned about Ricky Hatton.
I’d spoken to him so recently when I was in England, and he said that if I ever wanted to use his gym in Manchester I just needed to let him know and he’d set it up. I didn’t use it, but I appreciated him offering it all the same.
A few days after that I saw that he’d agreed to have a fight in December. I was a little worried, but when I asked about his opponent I was told he couldn’t pose a threat to Rick, and I also remembered the good spirits Rick was in, so that sense of worry passed.
He seemed so jovial when we spoke that last time. I never thought that the next time I heard about him would be his death.
We didn’t speak often, but when we did there was a lot of warmth and respect between us. It wasn’t just a fight we shared – it went beyond an entire promotion. For 18, 24 months after I won my first title we were circling each other; we’d cross paths at different events; we then fought on the same card when he attracted a post-war British record crowd of 55,000 to the City of Manchester Stadium for his victory over Juan Lazcano in 2008. Even as opponents later that year there was a lot of respect and well-wishing, post-fight.
The love affair he and the British fans had with each other – they were made for each other. The British boxing fans are the best in the world – they’re so emotional, driven and supportive – and Rick was pretty much one of them. He didn’t just do it for the cameras – he actually would go to the pub and play darts. He was one of the lads – that’s partly why he was so widely loved and there was so much pride in him at a time when the UK was less divided. The city of Manchester took particular pride in him. He also just happened to be a very good boxer and a world champion, too.
His victory over Kostya Tszyu in 2005 represented the changing of the guard at junior welterweight in that era. Miguel Cotto, another of my former opponents, and I were establishing ourselves at that level; Timothy Bradley was coming through. Rick’s performance in front of his fans at home in Manchester was the one that really started a new chapter – it was a storybook win.
I was in the ring with Luis Collazo before his fight with Rick in 2006, which ended with Rick being crowned a world champion at welterweight. It was another good fight – I’m not sure I can remember him being in a bad one – and one that deserves to be spoken about more.
A lot of the reason the fight in 2007 with Floyd Mayweather was as big as it was was because of Rick and the British influence. People still talk about the way the MGM Grand ran out of beer – the British fans didn’t trash the place, either. They were jovial all week.
He was a world-class fighter – one of the best I fought. The fact he defeated me just made me respect him even more.
By the time he fought and lost to Manny Pacquiao in 2009 his hard living and in-ring accomplishments were already catching up with him – he wasn’t the same fighter. He could live as recklessly as he fought, which is not only why people loved him but also why he made them worry.
When he started his comeback in 2012 we had pretty much agreed everything for a rematch the following year. I was the WBA welterweight champion; he was going to come to the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York to challenge me. The prospect of that rematch was out of this world.
I’d expected him to select Michael Katsidis as his comeback opponent but when Vyacheslav Senchenko was announced I became worried, because Senchenko was a big, physical welterweight. What I feared happening happened that night – he got stopped. By then I knew him and liked him even more. It was crushing, both for those present there in Manchester and for me.
I saw Rick shortly before his exhibition with Marco Antonio Barrera in 2022 and thought he looked terrific and like he was 10 years younger. The transformation was unbelievable – he had once again found that motivation to get back into shape – and I hoped it’d last.
When in 2024 he was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame I was so happy for him. For someone like him it would have meant so much. He fed off the energy and love he got from the fans and the crowd; he had highs and lows of his own, and that would have given him another high.
That nature of achievement is even more valued by someone like Rick – I’m so glad he was inducted and able to appreciate his induction and achievements before he died.
Rest in peace, champ.
