SAM GILLEY, like so many others, continues to view Ricky Hatton as an endless source of inspiration.
So enamoured he was with the Hitman’s masterful left hook to the body that, naturally, the Londoner soon adopted it as his very own signature shot, always hoping to emulate that same passion and ferocity when sending it crashing into an opponent’s torso.
It came as a sharp gut punch, then, when Gilley, 18-1-1 (9 KOs), not only discovered that his hero had tragically passed away, but later learned that he would be unable to attend his funeral.
“It’s just so sad,” the 31-year-old told Boxing News. “I was gutted that I couldn’t go up to Manchester – I had my brain scan for my licence that Friday – and while I wasn’t invited to the funeral, I was just going to stand on the street and pay my respects.
“He always struggled [with mental health], but we all loved him. He was a hero to everyone, and with the Ricky Hatton Foundation coming out to help people, I just hope that the world learns something from this.
“You’ve got to look after everyone that’s close to you, especially the ones that are visibly struggling. He was my hero, and he always will be.”
Hatton’s battles with mental health, both towards the end of his decorated fighting career and in the years that followed, were always well-documented, but perhaps never fully understood.
The Manchester man was always so approachable, lighting up a room with his infectious smile and quick wit, and yet, behind closed doors, it was often a vastly different story.
For Gilley, a series of events in his own life meant that, eventually, he had few alternatives but to seek help.
It was his mother, though, who ultimately urged him to start therapy, not long before ‘The Magic Man’ boxed to an eight-round draw against Gideon Onyenani, who he was widely expected to beat, this past June.
“Over the last couple of years, my nan died and my mum and dad got divorced, so I was in a really bad place,” Gilley explained.
“Before the Gideon [Onyenani] fight, my mum said to me that I’d lost my spark. Only a mum would notice that.
“Then, after giving me a lift to a Tottenham [football] game, she locked me in the car. She said, ‘Have you gotten over nan? Have you gotten over me and dad?’ And I just said, ‘Nah, not really.’
“Then she said, ‘Right, I’m sending you to therapy.’ I’ve now been going to therapy for about six weeks, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.
“I’ve got my mojo back, because all these things that were going on in my head – that I didn’t have answers for – I’ve now got the answers.
“We train our bodies every day as fighters, but we sometimes don’t train our mind, and it’s our mind that controls our body.
“I was one of them ones where I was like, ‘I ain’t going to therapy. I’m all right.’ But I think you saw in my last performance that my mind got the better of me, and I slipped up.
“Even Rod [Julian, his coach] said to me the other day that he hasn’t seen me this sharp in years.”

In a sport where fighters are compelled to endure no small amount of pain and suffering, it is refreshing to hear that Gilley has addressed those prior concerns over his mental health.
This new approach to his craft, and indeed his life in general, has also come at a time when he is gearing up to face Ishmael Davis for the vacant British super-welterweight title.
The pair will square off on the undercard of Chris Eubank Jr vs Conor Benn 2, with Gilley – a die-hard Spurs fan – earning an opportunity to fight at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, London, on November 15.
More than that, though, Gilley has always envisioned himself challenging for the British title, much like his idol did 15 years ago today.
“The first Ricky Hatton fight I watched live was against Ray Oliveira, then I started boxing after the Kostya Tszyu fight,” he recalled.
“But before that, I got a Ricky Hatton box set for Christmas, and that was when I watched the Jon Thaxton fight, and saw the British title.
“[Hatton] obviously got cut in the first round, and it was just an all-out war, so I was like, ‘I want to be in one of those fights one day.’
“Now I’ve got that opportunity.”



