Manchester experienced a different kind of Ricky Hatton wonderland today, one filled with sorrow but lifted by memories of a British legend, as thousands came out to say goodbye to the two-weight world champion who last month died at the age of 46. 

Resting at Manchester Cathedral at midday for the funeral memorial service, the cortege departed at 9.45am from the Cheshire Cheese pub on Stockton Road in Hyde, where the Town Hall lowered their flag to half-mast in tribute to a man who put their community on the map, then travelled to Harehill Tavern, before doves were released at another pub, The New Inn, which used to be owned by his parents. The procession would eventually end at Etihad Stadium, home of Hatton’s beloved Manchester City.

Fans gathered on the streets from as early as 7am while chants of ‘There’s only one Ricky Hatton’ grew in volume as the crowds, many clutching blue and white flags of his football team, spilled from pavements to roads. A flatbed truck carrying Hatton’s old yellow three-wheel Reliant Regal, from his favorite TV show Only Fools and Horses, was seen first, aptly leading the cortege through its slow 14-mile journey to the cathedral.

“It feels real now,” said Matthew Macklin, the former boxer and close friend of Hatton. “It’s such a tragedy. Yes, he was the man of the people, but he was an unbelievable fighter. He stole the show every time he fought.”

Hatton captured the hearts of the British public on his way to winning the world light welterweight championship, beating Kostya Tszyu in 2005, to such an extent that tens of thousands followed him to Las Vegas for his 2007 showdown with Floyd Mayweather. A stoppage defeat would trigger depression for the first time, something he battled for the rest of his life. Though Hatton would lose to Manny Pacquiao two years later, he would beat the likes of Jose Luis Castillo, Paulie Malignaggi and Juan Urango in Sin City where, famously, bars would report record takings as their beer supplies were drunk dry. 

Whether sipping cocktails with celebrities in America or sharing pints of Guinness with locals in Manchester, Hatton’s everyman personality never wavered. “Man of the people has become a cliché, but I can’t think of another fighter who was as accessible to the public,” said Sky Sports commentator Ian Darke, who soundtracked many of Hatton’s greatest performances. “He’d have a fight one night and the next he’d be in the pub singing karaoke and sinking pints of Guiness.”

BoxingScene’s Tris Dixon, friend of Hatton and ghostwriter of his biography, added: “With Ricky, it’s not just about boxing – it’s about who he was as a person and what he did to unite the city, unite the country, taking all those fans to Las Vegas for those magical nights. Ricky is far bigger than boxing and his legacy is unmatched. It’s a privilege to have known him and documented his life.”

By 10.45am, the cortege slowly made its way past Hatton’s old boxing gym, the laboratory in which he would learn to fight and craft the skills that carried him through his 45-3 (32 KOs) Hall of Fame career. 

Nearby, at Manchester Cathedral those attending the memorial service made their way inside. Among them were former heavyweight champion Tyson Fury, a fighter Hatton helped through his own fight with depression. “I’m not going to be alone when I say this, but Ricky inspired me as a young boy to go on and do great things in boxing. I wanted to be just like him. The ring walks, the flashy shorts, the fans, the chanting.”

Today the chanting was more sombre than back then but it could be heard all over Manchester, a city adored by Ricky Hatton and a city that adored him, their real-life superhero.