RICKY ‘The Hitman’ Hatton needs no introduction to boxing fans but for those not quite so intimate with the fight game, he was one of the outstanding boxers of his generation.

He is one of the few boxers who has held multiple world titles — at his peak, in 2005, he beat Kostya Tszyu for the light-welterweight IBF crown and a year later beat Carlos Maussa to claim the light welterweight WBA. Hatton, or the ‘Manchester Mexican’, as he is known for his rough house style, is ranked as the finest British light-welterweight.

So although not a ringside fan myself I was intrigued in an interesting article in a national newspaper recently.

Hatton suffered his first professional loss against the great Floyd Merryweather Junior in an attempt to win the world welterweight championship. Two years later he endured a savage defeat against Mexican Manny Pacquiao and retired from the ring. A comeback three years later, ended in a third defeat and, unlike that old serial retiree, singer Frank Sinatra, there were no more ‘comebacks’.

What I like about Hatton is that he pulls no punches (sorry, I couldn’t resist). In the article it told of how now he makes a living as a fight trainer and a comedian (I know, it’s hard to separate the two).

He scored a laugh from 300 fans at the Royal British Legion in Runcorn when he introduced himself as ‘Ricky Hatton, fresh out of rehab’ and followed up with a devastating combination ‘I cannot guarantee you are going to laugh but I can guarantee it will last longer than the Pacquiao fight!’

But he was not afraid to talk of his depression after trying to adjust to life outside of the ring, the breakdown of his long term relationship with the mother of his children and bitter conflicts with his family — nor about the drug and alcohol abuse.

Thankfully, and hopefully, those dark days are now behind him but he did admit to finding it difficult, like many boxers, to life away from the ring.

He confessed: ‘I miss the roar of the crowd. I can’t go to big fights, it upsets me. You want those days when it’s you in the ring to last for ever. 

He is now a successful boxing trainer — one of his fighters Zhanat Zhakiyanov, won the WBA world bantamweight title.

’]There aren’t many who have trained a world champion and been one as well. That’s a wonderful achievement. I have never been happier than I am at present,’ he said.

Which is good news. But lets not forget that boxing has always been, and always will be, a dangerous game. Only last month 17-year-old amateur boxer Ed Bilbey from Derbysire died after collapsing in the ring, reminding everyone of that.

But boxers know the risk and they are willing to fight on, be it for the adrenalin rush, money, the glory — they all have their reasons.

I admire men like Ricky Hatton and I confess I don’t have his raw courage or warrior spirit to do what he did. But reading the article about him I was fascinated by his world — a world which can be brutal in and out of the ring. For many, especially those at the top of the fight game like Ricky Hatton, the mental ‘opponents’ outside the ring — especially after the glory days are over and the body is no longer in peak condition — are far surely more difficult to fight than any opponent in any arena.