Claire Sweeney has paid tribute to Ricky Hatton, describing the former two-weight world champion as “the people’s champ” and offering condolences to his children and inner circle, in her first public remarks since the boxer was found dead at his home in Hyde, Greater Manchester, on Sunday. Sweeney, the Coronation Street actor who had an eight-month relationship with Hatton last year after the pair met while competing on ITV’s Dancing on Ice, addressed her message to his family and to Paul “Speaky” Speak, Hatton’s long-serving manager and close friend. “To them, Speaky and to all his friends who loved him,” she wrote in a statement posted on social media, adding the phrase that many supporters have used in the aftermath of his death: “the people’s champ.”
Hatton, 46, was discovered on the morning of 14 September after friends grew concerned when he failed to arrive for a planned gym session and then missed a boxing event, according to reports cited by local and national outlets. Police said there were no suspicious circumstances. Greater Manchester Police confirmed that officers were called to an address in Hyde at 6.45 a.m. and that the death of a 46-year-old man was not being treated as suspicious, a position echoed by multiple news agencies.
Sweeney’s tribute followed a day of official statements and public mourning led by Hatton’s family, who said their loss was “immeasurable” and remembered him as a devoted father, grandfather, brother and friend whose “kindness, humour and loyalty” touched those around him. Their words framed the outpouring that spread from Hyde to boxing communities worldwide and across British sport. Andy Burnham, the mayor of Greater Manchester, said the city would “find a way of honouring him properly.”
The actor’s statement drew attention in part because of her recent place in Hatton’s life. Sweeney and Hatton met during the 2024 series of Dancing on Ice and began a relationship that both later acknowledged had ended amicably by the first half of 2025. Coverage of their time together included joint public appearances and social media posts, and acquaintances said the pair remained on good terms after their split. Sweeney’s message after his death named Hatton’s son Campbell and daughters Millie and Fearne, as well as his granddaughter Lyla, in line with tributes that emphasised his family role as much as his sporting achievements.
Hatton’s body was found at his home in Hyde after concerns were raised by friends when he did not show up for engagements. Subsequent reporting indicated that Speak, a confidant for more than two decades, was among those who went to check on him after the missed commitments. The detail underscored the tight-knit nature of the circle around Hatton in the final days of a life that had, in recent weeks, returned to a more public training routine as he prepared for a comeback bout. Police have not disclosed further information pending formal procedures, and there has been no official indication of a cause of death.
The reaction to Sweeney’s remarks mirrored the wider response to Hatton’s death across sport and entertainment. Figures from boxing, football and music paid tribute to a fighter who rose from domestic arenas to Las Vegas, taking with him vast travelling support that made his ring-walk anthem “Blue Moon” a recurring soundtrack to British fight nights in the 2000s. Messages came from former opponents and allies, including fellow world champions and promoters who described him as a defining figure of his era. Hatton’s career record stood at 45 wins from 48 fights, with signature victories over Kostya Tszyu in 2005 in Manchester and Jose Luis Castillo in 2007, and headline bouts in the United States against Floyd Mayweather Jr and Manny Pacquiao that established him as a global box-office attraction.
Public reaction in Manchester was immediate and visible. Supporters gathered outside the boxer’s home to lay flowers and leave messages, and tributes were observed around the city, including at football fixtures. Local media documented mourners from both sides of the city’s football rivalry pausing to remember a supporter-hero whose popularity crossed club lines. The scenes reflected the role Hatton played beyond the ring, where he was seen as a working-class emblem who remained accessible even after world titles and international acclaim.
Sweeney’s message followed earlier posts she had made in support of Hatton’s planned ring return. In July he had announced a comeback exhibition scheduled for 2 December in Dubai, an event that would have come 13 years after his 2012 return in Manchester. In the days before his death he shared videos of roadwork and bag sessions from his home gym, signs of the preparations that promoters said would showcase his enduring appeal. The fight had been billed as part celebration of a storied career that, for many, helped define a generation of British boxing fandom.
The couple’s brief relationship kept Sweeney in the orbit of Hatton’s career renaissance. Reports in recent days recounted how they met while on Dancing on Ice and subsequently spent time together in Manchester and abroad before agreeing to part. Profiles that revisited Hatton’s personal life in the wake of his death situated the Sweeney relationship within a broader portrait that included long-standing friendships across boxing and entertainment and the renewed focus on training that accompanied the Dubai plan.
Hatton’s family statement, released through media and shared widely online, asked for privacy and thanked supporters for their messages. “He had a heart as big as his smile,” they said, a sentiment that appeared repeatedly in postings by fans beneath old clips of his ring walks and post-fight interviews. The tributes also revived attention to his work with younger fighters in Manchester, where he had remained active as a trainer and promoter following retirement, and to the outreach work he undertook in the city. Officials and friends said they expected that civic commemorations would be announced after family arrangements were in place.
In keeping with the police declaration that there were no suspicious circumstances, authorities have not presented evidence suggesting a criminal investigation. Statements relayed by international outlets cited the initial GMP summary and reported that the case would proceed through standard coroner processes. The absence of a public cause of death did not prevent the torrent of recollections that followed, many referring to Hatton’s openness about mental health challenges and to the support networks that developed around him in retirement. The tone of Sweeney’s post, like those of other friends and former colleagues, matched the broader request for space while recognising the immense public interest in his final days.
Sweeney, 54, first came to national prominence through the Channel 4 soap Brookside and has more recently appeared in Coronation Street. Her participation in Dancing on Ice placed her alongside Hatton during a period when both were adjusting to the demands of a live, high-profile series; the two made joint appearances during and after the show. Accounts of their time together described a relationship rooted in shared schedules and public engagements, and friends of the pair said they stayed friends after ending their partnership. Her decision to speak publicly days after his death placed her among the closest non-family voices to address the shock felt by fans.
For supporters in Manchester and far beyond, the reference in Sweeney’s message to the “people’s champ” captured a theme that has run through the remembrances: that Hatton’s legacy sits not only in belts and statistics but in the emotional bond he forged with crowds who adopted him as one of their own. While the record books emphasise title reigns at light-welterweight and welterweight and a 2005 Fighter of the Year sweep from leading organisations, tributes have returned repeatedly to the atmosphere he generated and the humility that underpinned it. The language used by friends and family — and by Sweeney in her contribution — has aligned around those ideas.
In the coming days, attention will turn to arrangements for public memorials and to any formal announcements from authorities. For now, the picture remains one of collective remembrance shaped by family words, by the testimonies of friends such as Speak, and by personal messages like Sweeney’s, which acknowledged both the intensity of private grief and the scale of public affection. Her post named those closest to him and nodded to the manager-friend who has featured in many accounts of the weekend’s events, reflecting the blend of family and tight-knit professional relationships that defined Hatton’s life after boxing. As fans continued to gather in Hyde, the refrain that long accompanied his ring walks — that there was only one Ricky Hatton — reverberated behind statements from those who knew him best and from those who knew him only from the stands.
Sweeney’s decision to speak publicly provided one more fixed point in a fast-moving story that has combined official confirmations with personal testimony. It also threaded her own brief chapter with Hatton into the larger narrative presented by his family and by civic leaders. The tributes have been practical as well as emotional — offers of help to his gym community, plans for permanent recognition in Manchester — and they have echoed the themes of the family’s statement about a man who, in the words of Burnham, made the city proud. In the aggregate, those voices have outlined the final profile of one of Britain’s most recognisable fighters: a champion whose influence lingered well beyond the ring and whose loss prompted expressions of sympathy that cut across sport and entertainment, from former opponents and training partners to television colleagues like Sweeney who saw, up close, the demands of the public life he carried for more than two decades.
