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They say it always rains in Manchester, but the weather Ricky Hatton encountered in Vegas this morning was truly relentless.

I'm not the Marquis of Queensbury, but I think what I just witnessed was the very definition of an arse-whuppin'. Ricky Hatton did stand alone, but only after treatment from the paramedics and only after his dream had become a nightmare.

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In true pantomime fashion we booed this American Mayweather upstart for his brash arrogance and all those vulgar undignified displays of wealth and power - he was America personified and weren't we jealous as hell. We cheered and roared our proud hero's rabble-rousing expletive riddled speeches; ferociously inarticulate as only the true under-classes can deliver.

How we applauded his humility and courage in the face of adversity and dreamed of the victory that would humble Mayweather and America. Unfortunately for Ricky, in Pantomime's the bad guy is always behind you, and eventually is defeated. Tonight he was in front of him and as always in reality, the bad guy won (that's why we consider them bad). When gallant Ricky Hatton regained consciousness this must have felt very real indeed and very bad. Bless him.

I like him though and he can find great solace and comfort in the promise of popularity and institutional status and success as a tourist attraction for the American vacationer should he retire as a pugilist. Fascinated Americans will surely flock to watch him eat bacon and eggs, drink beer, play darts and pass out on someones doorstep.

Who cares about winning, who cares about mansions, cars, money, swimming pools and the finer things in life when a man can spend an evening surrounded by his friends in the local boozer, arm-wrestling his own mother. Floyd Mayweather may have financial wealth, he may be a winner, but he'll never experience the kind of emotional abundance that allows one to vomit up black pudding and Guinness on a friend's living room couch and laugh about it together later that evening back in the pub...true wealth, true abundance, true Brit.


It goes without saying of course that as the most gallant of gallant British losers, he is now a certainty for the coveted BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award, despite stiff competition from other gallant British losers such as Lewis Hamilton and Jonny Wilkinson.