IT WAS hard not to think of Ricky Hatton’s legendary nights when the Sheffield Arena erupted into a chorus of “There’s only one Dave Allen” as the British heavyweight fought Arslanbek Makhmudov.
The old Christmas favourite Winter Wonderland, over 90 years old, was once the soundtrack to Hatton’s unforgettable rise. His fans would sing in their thousands: “There’s only one Ricky Hatton. One Ricky Hatton. Walking along, singing a song, walking in a Hatton wonderland.”
A day after Hatton’s funeral in Manchester, the same chant filled the Sheffield Arena for Allen. It felt like both a tribute and a passing of the torch. “The White Rhino” has long enjoyed cult-hero status, but on Saturday night his following seemed to grow into something much greater. Matchroom Boxing reported more than 9,000 fans were in attendance and, as the atmosphere swelled, it sounded as if almost all of them were there for Allen.
His ring walk began with Frank Sinatra’s My Way, before shifting into Fields of Gold by Sting. As Sinatra’s famous line “And now the end is near…” played out, it served as a reminder of Allen’s own uncertain path. Retirement is something he’s attempted before, but never quite stuck to. Each comeback has felt like it might be his last.
But something shifted in Sheffield. Allen has always been a popular figure, but his reception on Saturday was different. British boxing fans have a soft spot for working-class heroes. The fighters who sound like them, think like them, and represent the belief that anything is possible. Allen freely admits he’s not world-class, and his defeat to Makhmudov proved as much. But having said goodbye to Hatton 24 hours earlier, it somehow felt like we were saying hello to Allen. The question is, has this moment come too late?
Hatton, too, was a man of the people. He never tried to be anything he wasn’t. His roots mattered to him, and the people of Manchester mattered too. Losing that connection would have meant losing himself. Allen, from Doncaster, may now have unlocked more big nights because of the emotion and support he inspired on Saturday.
The concern, however, is that time isn’t on his side. He took several punishing right hands from Makhmudov but refused to back down. Afterwards, the Russian admitted he was surprised by Allen’s strength and by how impossible it was to break through that granite chin.
Allen’s humility and plain-spoken nature strike a chord with British fans. We’ve always preferred fighters like Hatton and Allen over those more interested in posing with their latest expensive purchase or rubbing shoulders with celebrities. Saturday night was a reminder of how much British boxing is missing that kind of authenticity – fighters who make fans feel part of the story.
There will never be another Ricky Hatton, but his down-to-earth charm and fearless attitude built an army of fans who followed him everywhere. Tens of thousands crossed the Atlantic to watch him fight, or packed bars just to share in the experience. Even if they couldn’t see the screens, they sang and drank together for their man.
If Allen were to retire this week, few would be shocked. Yet Matchroom CEO Frank Smith doesn’t believe this is the end just yet.
“When you create nights like that, when you create atmospheres like that – with a fan base like Dave has – there is literally no limits as to where he can go in the sport,” he told Boxing News.
“He can go in there against any of the big heavyweight names and not just as an opponent, but as someone who brings a lot of value to a fight.”
If Allen were to challenge the winner of Frazer Clarke versus Jeamie TKV for the British heavyweight title and win, he would be one of the most popular domestic champions in years. But if “the end is near”, as Sinatra sang, should he really keep taking the kind of punishment that allows him to land his own big shots?
No one will ever match Hatton’s appeal, but those scenes in Sheffield when thousands sang Winter Wonderland in unison brought back memories of those famous nights and reminded us what boxing’s been missing. The working-class hero isn’t perfect. He doesn’t always win. But his flaws make him relatable, human, and that’s exactly why he matters.
We’ll always have the Anthony Joshuas of this world – polished, well-spoken, marketable. But there’s something far more lovable about the fighters who win over hearts, not just headlines. Manchester had Hatton. Doncaster has Dave Allen. Both are flawed, funny and fiercely themselves and right now, British boxing could use a few more just like them.
