By Michael Fitzpatrick

Copyright manchestereveningnews

Walking through the M.E.N. Arena on the night of a Ricky Hatton fight , it seemed like someone had picked up Hattersley and Hyde and plonked it down in the venue. Familiar faces from ringside all the way up to the ‘nosebleed’ seats at the back. This was the legacy of the Hitman, he took us all along for the ride on his incredible sporting journey. My first job in journalism was as sports editor at the Tameside Reporter, which mainly involved covering the footballing exploits of Stalybridge Celtic, Hyde United, Ashton United, Curzon Ashton, Droylsden and Mossley. The occasional presentation evening at the Tameside Table Tennis Association was as glamorous as it got. But I was also fortunate enough to fall into the Tameside sporting scene at the same time as Ricky began his ascent to boxing greatness. He was already well on his way to becoming a world champion when I started covering his career. Our paths had crossed long before the first time I was invited down to the Louvolite Gym in Hyde in 2001 to see him training. We were pupils together at Hattersley High School from 1990 to 1995. Even at that young age, Ricky stood out – and not just because of that spiky blond haircut. We all knew he was a promising amateur boxer back then, but his talent for football stood out most in the playground. Quick, nimble, skillful – all attributes he would go on to show in the ring – were on display every dinnertime. Some people just have ‘it’. And Ricky had ‘it’ in spades. Brilliant on the sports field, popular, funny and charismatic off it – but no trace of arrogance, always the ‘lad next door’. So when we met again for the first time in years at that boxing gym in 2001, there was a friendly look of recognition from the Hitman. Ricky, his trainer Billy Graham, and the rest of his team were great with me. Always happy to take calls from a journalist at a weekly newspaper, when they had the likes of Sky Sports and a ‘who’s who’ of boxing journalists all vying for a bit of their time. This was in the days before social media. If I wanted to get a quote, I had to speak to the Hitman himself. But nothing was ever too much trouble for “his local paper”. Ricky also made the news headlines with his generosity. One of his biggest fans at that time was a terminally-ill teenager called James Bowes. The youngster worshipped the Hitman and could often be seen by his side – not just in the glare of fight week, but when the journalists and TV crews weren’t there. That’s what made Ricky’s bond with his hometown so special. Nothing was ever a photo opportunity. He’d go for a ‘belly buster’ breakfast at the local cafe, play darts with his mates at the New Inn in Hattersley, go for a night out in Ashton-under-Lyne. Ricky was Ricky – from the lad dribbling with a ball in the school playground to being one of the most famous sportsmen in the world. He did not change. For myself, being ringside during those massive fights – even in front of the various celebrities who would attend – were some of the greatest moments of my career. It was a City match and an Oasis reunion concert all rolled into one and the most noise I’ve ever heard in the Manchester Arena – beating any music act. What made it even more special was seeing all those old faces in the crowd. People you recognised from the various pubs along Market Street in Hyde; old school friends from Hattersley High chipping in to hire a minibus to get down town. We were all following Ricky on his journey to the top – and he wanted us there right by him. Unfortunately I’d left my role at the Tameside Reporter before Ricky – and the rest of Greater Manchester – started their invasions of Las Vegas. I don’t think my editor would have approved my expenses for that journey anyway! Over the last few years I’d become one of the thousands who followed Ricky on Instagram, watching videos of him passing on his wisdom to other fighters, going for his 5k runs around Hyde and enjoying his life with his family he’d built through blood, sweat, tears and hard graft. I was also one of the millions who watched his award-winning documentary on his mental health battles and was in awe of the way he fought back in a battle that was tougher than anything he faced in the ring. Ricky WAS the people’s champion. He not only lifted world titles, he lifted Hattersley, Hyde, Manchester – and everyone who went along for the ride. Rest in peace, Hitman.