The famed nights of Ricky Hatton’s life were always accompanied by a nocturne from his travelling army of devotees. They sang for him in ascent, and even more vociferously for the fights that marked his decline. After walking into the Floyd Mayweather hook that hinted at the beginning of the end of one of British boxing’s great careers, he nodded away referee Joe Cortez with two words: “I’m alright.”

His death at the age of 46 is a tragic end to a life baked in a heady mix of adrenaline and spotlight.

In an age of duckers and dodgers, “The Hitman” went toe-to-toe with the best. On that night in Vegas, he closed out the space, took Mayweather on. Post-fight, he believed he had been a little “gung ho”, when he might have gone more “subtle”. His analysis of that same Achilles, once his gre

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