It is eight days until Ricky Hatton’s IBF light-welterweight title bout against Juan Urango and Las Vegas is bracing itself for a 2,500-strong Mancunian invasion. Here is one small portion of it, travelling from the Harehill Tavern, a pub on the Hattersley estate where Hatton grew up.
These are some of Hatton’s oldest friendships, united by the miles they have notched up following him round Britain (and now the world), and by the struggle they faced in finding the money to do it.
Their tales tell the story of the journey ahead and the miles already behind them . . .
Craig Escott, 46, lorry driver
“I’ve worked in Indonesia, America, Australia, but these people from Hattersley are some of the finest I’ve ever known. On the surface they seem like normal, everyday people, but what you’ve got here is what’s disappeared in a lot of places — the community thing. It’s still alive here. People look out for you and offer help if you’re not all right.
That’s died out in other areas, but this estate is like a time warp. It’s a big community thing and we’ll be taking it to Vegas with us.
“Vegas is going to be bright and pretty, exciting and happening. I’ll be the well-behaved one — I was a social worker for seven years, so I know how to behave. In Vegas, we’re representing firstly Hattersley, but then Ricky, Manchester and England. We feel a big sense of responsibility. We’re going to lap it up and revel in the victory.”
Steve Heaton, 28, publican of Harehill Tavern
“My house is next door but one from Rick’s nanna and Rick and I have been best mates since school. That’s why I was in his autobiography, though my name’s spelt wrong. Not that that’s Rick’s fault — he’s had too many punches, he’d never see it.
“I used to be a cabinet maker until two years ago, when I took this pub over. Most of the pubs on the estate are run down and this was run down, too. Rick does a lot of sportsman’s dinners now and he gave me a massive help with the pub recently when he came down and did me a turn here. The pub was packed — about 150 people. Rick went down really well, better than the comedian I’d got along, though that may have been because my dad had got the comedian so p***ed beforehand.”
Andy Birchall, 34, floor-layer
“This is a big, big trip for me, my first time to the States, the longest flight I’ll have been on. I’ve never been in a casino in my life. Hopefully I’ll do well. I don’t know what I’m going to play — a bit of beginner’s luck is what I need. Fruit machines, blackjack, I’ll try anything. It’ll be the first and last time I’ll go to Vegas — it’s that expensive.
I’ve saved all my money for a long time for this, it’s been very hard. But a lot of other people had also been saving and couldn’t come because they couldn’t save enough.”
Ronnie Fox, 49, warehouse manager
“I used to run the pub football team from the New Inn, the pub his parents ran, so I’ve known him since he was a kid. He was always knocking about, giving us lip — usual stuff, telling us that we were too old and that he was better than us — and collecting a few clips around the head in the process.
“He never got to play for the pub team because by the time he was old enough he was seriously into his boxing. But we have a veterans team now and when Ricky’s not training he sometimes joins us for our Thursday night five-a-side. He’s a fit lad, even when he’s out of shape, and he’s clearly got the hunger. He’s got a nice few touches, quick feet and he certainly gets stuck in.”
John Willingham, 39, recycling officer
“I didn’t have the money to go the last fight in the States, but I’m 40 in February and I was going to go away with my wife to Florida to celebrate, but we thought we’d do Vegas instead. It’s my birthday present from her, but she’s as excited as all the lads. Wild horses wouldn’t keep her away.
“I’m looking forward to the sights. We’ve got a helicopter booked over the Grand Canyon and I’m not a good flyer, so I’m petrified of that. I’m certainly more nervous about that than I am about Ricky’s fight.”
Jay Behan, 32, joiner
“When Ricky started boxing, my role was always to hire the minibus to get his parents and grans and everyone to his fights around the country. There were about ten of us who always used to travel together.
“I’ll never forget his first professional fight, in Widnes. My brother and I got hold of a wheelchair and he wheeled me in on it and we managed to get some of the best seats in the house, right next to the card girls. Ricky eventually came on after midnight — I’d been sitting there all that time, asking to be wheeled out to go to the loo and being refused by my brother because he said he wanted to watch the boxing. I won’t be going to this fight in a wheelchair.”
Kirk Stone, 39, window-maker
“My dad runs another local boozer, The Railway Inn, and Rick comes in there most Sundays when he’s not training. When Rick’s dad had the New Inn, the two pubs were rivals in darts. Rick is a good darts player, but I remember him better as the ten-year-old boy always working out in the cellar beneath the pub.
“Everyone knew even back then that he was going to be a champion. We knew he had something special. But it’s been brilliant watching him come all the way through, it makes your heart flutter.”
Vicky Singleton, 24, secretary
“There are only two of us girls in the group of 18. I am looking forward to it, but I’m going to have to be one of the lads.”
Andy Hall, 42, car paint-sprayer
“I’m not just a Ricky Hatton fan, I’ve been a big boxing fan all my life — and this guy’s brought the fire back, the same fire I had for the Tommy Hearns years, the Roberto Duran years, the Ali years. It’s been absolutely magic being on this journey with Ricky. I’ve watched him since 1998. I always knew about this up-and-coming kid from the Hattersley council estate and now, suddenly, he’s doing it. To go to Vegas to watch a lad from Hattersley, it’s a boxing man’s dream.”
Dave Bessell, 38, window-maker
“This is a bit of a run-down area with a bit of a bad name — with the Myra Hindley and Ian Brady thing, it’s always been put down. But now we’ve got Ricky Hatton putting it back up there on a good note. Ricky’s been nothing but good.
“I’ve known Ricky since he was a 14-year-old, fighting as an amateur. You could pay a pound to watch him those days — I reckon I’ve seen him about 60 times. I first watched him fighting against a club from Ireland and I remember this Irish club fancied their boy and saying: ‘I feel sorry for this Ricky Hatton.’ Anyway, Ricky came out and flattened this lad in about two minutes and had him crying his eyes out.
“The estate has quite a good boxing fraternity. There are young kids on the estate now that we go and watch and hopefully they’ll be as big as Ricky one day. They all want to be Ricky. I think Ricky’s got a lot of kids off the street and into the gym.”
Wesley Behan, 28, carpet-fitter
“I’ve known Ricky since we were ten-year-olds at Hattersley High School together. He’s always been the same down-to-earth character. Only once did he have a problem at school, when he was 12 or 13. A lad called Timmy James started giving him some gyp, Ricky let him go on at him all through the lesson and afterwards he just lost his rag and snapped on him. I think it lasted about two seconds, with the lad on his back saying: ‘No more, no more!’ That was it — he never got any trouble after that.”
