The Untold Story of Ricky Hatton’s Final Days, His Mysterious Cause of Death

Ricky Hatton’s body was discovered on the morning of September 14, 2025, at his home in Hyde, Greater Manchester.

Police quickly confirmed that the death was not being treated as suspicious, and the case has been handed to the coroner for further review.

The official cause of death has not yet been made public, but those who knew him are painfully aware of the struggles he carried with him long after his days as “The Hitman” in the ring had ended.

His sudden passing has created an eerie silence, not unlike the moment after a knockout, when the crowd’s roar turns into collective disbelief.

For the fans who adored him, Hatton was more than a boxer.

He was the son of Manchester, a man who rose from humble beginnings to capture world titles in both the light-welterweight and welterweight divisions.

His professional record was extraordinary: 48 fights, 45 wins, and just three defeats.

His victory over Kostya Tszyu in 2005 remains one of British boxing’s most celebrated nights, a moment when Hatton proved that he belonged among the greats.

His career brought him face-to-face with legends like Floyd Mayweather Jr.

and Manny Pacquiao, and although he fell short in those contests, his willingness to fight anyone earned him lasting respect.

But the victories and belts told only half the story.

Behind the glittering nights in Las Vegas and the deafening cheers of Manchester, Hatton was a man who struggled deeply with the weight of his own fame.

In retirement, Hatton was candid about his demons.

He spoke openly of his depression, his battles with alcohol, and his use of drugs.

He admitted to moments of despair so profound that he once attempted to take his own life.

These revelations, shocking at the time, also made him more human in the eyes of his fans.

Unlike many sports stars who mask their troubles behind polished smiles, Hatton laid bare the pain of being a man who went from the heights of global stardom to the quiet loneliness of life after boxing.

He did not hide his scars; he spoke of them in interviews and autobiographies, hoping his candor might help others battling the same shadows.

His family played an anchor role in his turbulent journey.

Hatton was a father to three children: a son, Campbell, from an earlier relationship, and two daughters, Millie and Fearne, with his longtime partner Jennifer Dooley.

He also had a granddaughter who brought him joy in his later years.

Those who knew him often spoke of how fiercely he loved his children, how his rough exterior softened instantly in their presence.

For all the blood and sweat of the ring, he was a man who found his truest pride not in titles but in fatherhood.

His relationships were complicated, his personal life full of highs and lows, but his bond with his children remained constant, even through the turbulence.

Financially, Hatton’s career brought him significant wealth.

Estimates of his net worth at the time of his death hover around $40 million, money earned not only from fight purses but also endorsements, promotions, and later his work as a trainer and boxing promoter.

He had shared the ring with the richest names in boxing, and the blockbuster fights against Mayweather and Pacquiao earned him millions.

Yet, his wealth was not the centerpiece of his identity.

Friends recall that he remained grounded, still the lad from Manchester who loved football, beer, and nights out with his mates.

His lifestyle was famously marked by extremes: during training camps, he would shrink down to his fighting weight, but outside of them, he indulged heavily, often ballooning in size and joking about it with fans.

This duality became part of his legend, the disciplined warrior and the everyman who never pretended to be more than who he was.

What makes his death even more heartbreaking is the timing.

Hatton was preparing for a comeback in Dubai this December, a fight that had fans buzzing with anticipation.

For him, the comeback was not about chasing titles or money; it was about proving something to himself, reminding the world that the fire inside him still burned.

He had been seen training, smiling, and talking with optimism about one last night under the lights.

Now, that dream has been extinguished, leaving behind only the haunting thought of what might have been.

The tributes that have poured in since his passing reflect the depth of his impact.

Fellow fighters have called him a warrior, a friend, and a legend.

Tyson Fury described him as one of Britain’s greatest, while countless fans have shared memories of watching him fight in packed arenas, the blue-and-white flags of Manchester waving in unison.

The outpouring of grief is not just for the boxer, but for the man whose vulnerabilities made him so relatable.

Hatton was never untouchable—he was flawed, he was human, and that humanity is what made him loved long after his last fight.

In life, Ricky Hatton embodied contradiction.

He was at once a fearless fighter and a fragile man.

He carried the weight of expectation with pride but also crumbled under its pressures.

He lived with joy, laughter, and camaraderie, but also endured darkness and despair.

His biography is not simply the tale of a boxer who conquered the world but the story of a man who fought battles few ever saw, who faced demons that no championship belt could silence.

His lifestyle was bold, messy, and unpolished, but it was also authentic.

He was unapologetically himself, for better or worse.

Now, as the world mourns his death, the silence he leaves behind feels deafening.

The Hitman’s gloves are down for the final time, his planned comeback forever unwritten.

His legacy, however, is secure.

Ricky Hatton will be remembered not just for the nights when he made the crowd roar, but for the way he showed that even heroes can bleed, even champions can cry, and even the strongest fighters sometimes lose their toughest battles.

In that honesty, he achieved something no opponent could ever take away: immortality in the hearts of those who loved him.