Breaking News: Former Teammate Reveals Ricky Hatton Voiced Concerns Over ‘Hot Lungs’ Just Minutes Before Fatal Dizzy Spell — Post-Mortem Tests Confirm Lingering Stress Markers

In a heartbreaking revelation that adds fresh layers of sorrow to the untimely passing of boxing icon Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton, a close former teammate has come forward with chilling details of the champion’s final moments. Just minutes before succumbing to a sudden dizzy spell that led to his collapse on September 14, Hatton confided in his longtime sparring partner, expressing unease about a burning sensation in his chest he described as “hot lungs.” This disclosure, shared exclusively with The Manchester Guardian today, paints a poignant picture of a warrior who, even in his hour of need, masked vulnerability with the stoic grit that defined his career. Subsequent medical tests, including preliminary autopsy findings, have confirmed elevated stress biomarkers in Hatton’s system, suggesting chronic physiological strain that may have exacerbated his vulnerability.

Hatton, the 46-year-old former light-welterweight and welterweight world champion, was discovered unresponsive at his modest home in Gee Cross, Hyde, Greater Manchester, following a welfare check by his manager, Paul Speak. Greater Manchester Police have reiterated that the death is not treated as suspicious, with a full coroner’s inquest slated for late October. Yet, this new account from his inner circle shifts focus from speculation around mental health—Hatton’s well-publicized battles with depression and addiction—to potential physical red flags overlooked amid his rigorous preparation for a long-awaited comeback bout.

The teammate, speaking on condition of anonymity to respect the family’s privacy, recounted the harrowing sequence of events during a late-night training session at Hatton’s private gym on September 13. “Rick was pushing hard, like always,” the source told reporters. “We’d just wrapped a heavy bag session—nothing out of the ordinary for him, even at his age. But as we cooled down, he stopped, put his hand on his chest, and said, ‘Mate, these hot lungs are killing me today. Feels like I’ve been breathing fire.’ He laughed it off, cracked a joke about needing more Manchester rain to cool off, but I saw the worry in his eyes. Minutes later, he got that dizzy spell—swaying like he’d taken a Mayweather uppercut. I helped him to the sofa, thought it was just fatigue. Next morning, he was gone.”

“Hot lungs,” a colloquial term among fighters for that searing, inflamed sensation in the respiratory system often triggered by overexertion, dehydration, or underlying inflammation, resonated deeply with Hatton’s history. The four-division world champion, known for his relentless pressure style that saw him absorb punishing body shots across 48 professional bouts (45-3, 32 KOs), had long dealt with the toll of the sweet science. Post-fight medicals after his 2005 upset of Kostya Tszyu and the 2007 epic against Floyd Mayweather Jr. noted recurrent bronchial irritation, a byproduct of years inhaling gym dust and ring sweat. More recently, as Hatton ramped up for his December 2 exhibition against Eisa Al Dah in Dubai, whispers from his camp hinted at nagging respiratory tweaks—dismissed as par for the course in a comeback narrative sold as “The Hitman Returns.”

The anonymous sparring partner, who shared the ring with Hatton during his 2012 unretirement stint against Vyacheslav Senchenko, emphasized the normalcy masking the alarm. “Rick was buzzing about the fight, packing his bags, talking about taking the girls [daughters Millie and Fearne] out in Dubai. No signs of the darkness he’d fought before. But that ‘hot lungs’ comment stuck with me—it’s like your body’s screaming ‘slow down,’ and fighters like us, we ignore it.” Their session ended around 11 p.m., with Hatton retiring to his home alone after a quick call to his son Campbell. Speak arrived the next morning to find the lights off and Hatton unresponsive, later telling Boxing News, “I thought he’d overslept… He had everything to live for.”

Preliminary tests from the autopsy at Royal Manchester Infirmary, leaked through sources familiar with the coroner’s preliminary report, corroborate the teammate’s account. While the official cause remains pending toxicology and histology results—expected in six to eight weeks—early biomarkers indicate sustained cortisol elevation, a hallmark of chronic stress. This “lingering stress,” as pathologists termed it, points to a body under siege from prolonged high-intensity training layered atop Hatton’s history of substance-related recovery. Cortisol, the stress hormone, can inflame airways, heighten blood pressure, and precipitate arrhythmias—potentially turning a momentary dizzy spell into catastrophe.

Experts in sports medicine, speaking to Grok News, link this to “athlete’s distress syndrome,” a cocktail of overtraining, inadequate recovery, and the psychological weight of legacy. Dr. Elena Vasquez, a pulmonologist at the University of Manchester specializing in combat sports, explained: “Boxers like Hatton operate at extremes. ‘Hot lungs’ could signal acute bronchitis or even silent asthma flares, worsened by stress-induced hyperventilation. Add elevated cortisol, and you’re looking at a perfect storm for syncope [fainting] leading to cardiac events.” Vasquez noted Hatton’s age (46) and career mileage as risk amplifiers, echoing concerns raised in a 2023 British Journal of Sports Medicine study on retired fighters’ respiratory health.

This disclosure arrives amid a cascade of tributes underscoring Hatton’s duality: the unbreakable ring general and the man who bared his soul. His family, in a September 17 statement, insisted he was “in a good place,” excited for family-centric celebrations in Dubai. Brother Matthew Hatton echoed this on X, writing, “Rick lived life at a pace I’ve never seen… I take comfort & hope he’s found the peace that eluded him.” Yet, the “hot lungs” anecdote humanizes the legend further, a reminder that even “The Pride of Hyde” wasn’t invincible.

Fellow Mancunian Tyson Fury, the reigning heavyweight king, reacted swiftly to the news, posting on Instagram: “Rip to the legend Ricky Hatton… There will only ever be 1.” Amir Khan, a onetime rival turned ally, urged: “Mental health is the hardest fight,” though today’s reveal tilts toward physical frontiers. Manny Pacquiao, who stopped Hatton in 2009, reflected: “Ricky fought bravely, not just in the ring, but in his journey through life.” David Beckham, a fight-night regular, added: “Ricky was one of a kind.”

The boxing fraternity, still raw from Hatton’s loss, now grapples with preventive imperatives. Promoters like Eddie Hearn called for “mandatory stress screenings in comebacks,” while the British Boxing Board of Control announced a review of veteran athlete protocols. Hatton’s promoter days mentoring Campbell—who retired young—highlighted his advocacy, but this tale spotlights gaps: no on-site medics during private sessions, the allure of unregulated supplements in a post-retirement grind.

As Manchester United and City fans unite in sky-blue solidarity—chants of “There’s only one Ricky Hatton” still echoing from the Etihad—the “hot lungs” whisper becomes a rallying cry. Hatton’s 2013 memoir The Hitman chronicled his “black dog” of depression, but these final words suggest the body, too, waged war. Tests confirming “continued stress” underscore a holistic fight: mind, body, soul.

Funeral arrangements, set for October 10 at Christ Church in Hyde, promise a procession for fans—a final lap for the People’s Champion. Campbell Hatton, 16, shared a tearful post: “Heartbroken isn’t the word.” Mother Carol’s leaked line—”He was my baby boy, always will be”—now intertwines with “hot lungs,” a son’s unspoken plea amid the roar.

Hatton’s legacy? Unyielding heart, from council estates to global stages. This revelation doesn’t diminish it; it amplifies the call: listen when the lungs burn, when stress lingers. Rest easy, Hitman. Manchester’s blue moon weeps, but your fire endures.