Fear the Last F-word in Confident Ricky Hatton's Vocabulary

I really fancy myself for this one," Ricky Hatton says hopefully as his short and stubby fingers rub the flattened bridge of his fighter's nose. "I'm going to be fast and fiery and ferocious and …" Hatton, The Hitman from Manchester now in Las Vegas for Saturday night's dangerous contest against Manny Pacquiao, pauses as his alliterative jag hits the wall. "Fast, fiery, ferocious …" he repeats with a grin before turning to his trainer, Floyd Mayweather Sr, an enigmatically poetic former boxer and cocaine-dealing convict who will be in his corner as Hatton faces the world's best fighter. "Hey Floyd," Hatton yells, "give me another F-word – and '****' ain't allowed." "Flower," the battered old trainer drawls. "Flower?" Hatton snorts. "You know, Ricky, with your power, you gonna open him up like a flower," Mayweather riffs in his slurred and gravelly voice. "Fresh and funky, a killer bee taking the honey, and the money, as the PacMan falls to the floor, looking as bad and sad as a faded flower." "It's a bit too flowery for me, Floyd," Hatton deadpans as the sweat rolls down his face and he rips the bandages from his hands after another draining sparring session. "Now I know why I never made it as a poet. But I tell you what. This might only be a £7 haircut on me head but I feel like a million dollars today."