Today, Manchester was a different type of Ricky Hatton wonderland. It was sad, but it was also full of memories of the British boxing legend who died last month at the age of 46. Thousands of people came to say farewell to him. The funeral memorial service took place at Manchester Cathedral at noon. The cortege left the Cheshire Cheese pub on Stockton Road in Hyde at 9:45 a.m. The Town Hall lowered their flag to half-mast in memory of a man who made their community famous. The cortege then went to Harehill Tavern, where doves were released at The New Inn, a pub that used to be owned by the man's parents. The parade would culminate at Etihad Stadium, where Hatton's favorite team, Manchester City, plays. Fans started gathering on the streets as early as 7 a.m., and when the throng, many of whom were holding blue and white flags for his football team, spilled from the sidewalks to the highways, the cries of "There's only one Ricky Hatton" grew louder. First came a flatbed truck carrying Hatton's classic yellow three-wheeled Reliant Regal from his favorite TV comedy, Only Fools and Horses. It led the procession on its slow 14-mile trip to the cathedral. Matthew Macklin, a former boxer and close friend of Hatton, remarked, "It feels real now." "It's very sad. He was a man of the people, but he was also an amazing combatant. Every time he battled, he stole the show. Hatton won the world light welterweight championship in 2005 after beating Kostya Tszyu. He won the hearts of the British audience so much that tens of thousands of them went to Las Vegas to see him fight Floyd Mayweather in 2007. If he lost by stoppage, it would be the first time he admitted to being depressed, something he would fight for the rest of his life. Two years later, Hatton would lose to Manny Pacquiao, but in Sin City, where bars would report record sales as their alcohol supplies ran out, he would beat Jose Luis Castillo, Paulie Malignaggi, and Juan Urango. Hatton never changed, whether he was drinking cocktails with celebrities in America or pints of Guinness with people in Manchester. Sky Sports analyst Ian Darke, who covered several of Hatton's best fights, stated, "Man of the people" has become a cliché, yet I can't think of another athlete who was as accessible to the audience. "He'd fight one night and then go to the bar the next night to sing karaoke and drink pints of Guinness." Tris Dixon, a friend of Hatton's and the author of his biography, said, "It's not just about boxing with Ricky; it's about who he was as a person and what he did to bring the city and the country together, like taking all those fans to Las Vegas for those magical nights." Ricky is a lot more than just a boxer, and his legacy is one of a kind. It was an honor to know him and write about his life. By 10:45 a.m., the funeral procession slowly passed Hatton's old boxing gym, where he learned how to fight and honed the skills that helped him have a Hall of Fame career with a record of 45-3 (32 KOs). People who were going to the memorial service at Manchester Cathedral nearby went inside. Tyson Fury, a former heavyweight champion, was one of them. Hatton supported him through his own battle with depression. "I won't be the first one to say this, but Ricky inspired me to do great things in boxing when I was a kid. I wanted to be like him. The ring walks, the colorful shorts, the fans, and the chanting. The chanting was more serious today than it was back then, but it could be heard all around Manchester, a city that Ricky Hatton loved and that loved him back, their real-life superman.