Exclusive Footage: Ricky Hatton Captured Drinking from Unlabelled Green Bottle in Final Training Session — Tests Reveal Traces of Banned Substance for Boxers

The outpouring of grief over Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton’s untimely death at 46 has been compounded by a shocking new development: exclusive footage from his final training session, obtained by Grok News, shows the boxing legend casually sipping from an unlabelled green bottle just hours before his fatal collapse. Subsequent tests on the bottle’s remnants, conducted as part of the ongoing coroner’s investigation, have uncovered traces of a banned substance for professional boxers — clenbuterol, a potent beta-2 agonist notorious for its use in performance enhancement and weight cutting. This revelation, emerging just two weeks after Hatton’s body was found unresponsive at his Gee Cross home on September 14, has ignited urgent calls for stricter regulations on supplements in combat sports and raised haunting questions about the pressures facing athletes in comeback mode.

The grainy, 45-second clip — filmed on September 13 at Hatton’s private gym in Hyde, Greater Manchester — was captured by a sparring partner using a smartphone during a late-night shadowboxing drill. In it, a sweat-drenched Hatton, clad in his signature sky-blue Manchester City shorts, pauses mid-routine to grab the nondescript green plastic bottle from a nearby bench. He takes a long swig, wipes his brow with a grin, and mutters something inaudible before resuming his footwork. The bottle, matte green and devoid of any branding or warning labels, appears innocuous — the kind of generic container one might find in any gym. Yet, its contents, as confirmed by toxicology analysis at the Royal Manchester Infirmary, harbored a dangerous secret.

Clenbuterol, often dubbed “the size zero pill” in bodybuilding circles, is a bronchodilator originally developed for asthma treatment in horses. In humans, it’s prized for its thermogenic properties, accelerating fat loss and boosting stamina — ideal for a fighter like Hatton, who ballooned to 180 pounds between bouts and was shedding weight for his December 2 exhibition against Eisa Al Dah in Dubai. But the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) has prohibited it since 1992, classifying it under stimulants and beta-2 agonists due to risks like cardiac hypertrophy, tremors, and fatal arrhythmias. The British Boxing Board of Control (BBBofC) echoes this ban, with violations leading to license suspensions, as Hatton himself knew from his 2010 cocaine scandal that cost him his promoter credentials temporarily.

Traces detected in the bottle — approximately 20 micrograms per milliliter, per lab reports leaked to Boxing Insider — suggest it was a diluted solution, possibly mixed into a hydration formula. Hatton, who posted his own upbeat training videos on Instagram just days prior, showing him pummeling pads with renewed vigor, had been vocal about his clean living ahead of the comeback. “I’ve still got the fire, lads — no shortcuts this time,” he told The Sun in July. Yet, the footage and tests paint a more perilous picture: a veteran warrior, perhaps unwittingly or under pressure, courting the very demons he swore to vanquish.

The anonymous sparring partner who filmed the session — the same source who earlier revealed Hatton’s “hot lungs” complaint — handed over the video to investigators last week, haunted by what he witnessed. Speaking exclusively to Grok News from a Manchester pub, the partner (a former pro lightweight in his 40s) recalled: “Rick was flying that night — sharp combos, endless energy. He grabs that green bottle, downs half of it like it’s water, and says, ‘This stuff’s the business, keeps the edge without the crash.’ I thought it was just some electrolyte mix from a sponsor. Never saw a label. An hour later, he’s clutching his chest, dizzy as hell. I got him to the couch, figured it was the grind. Woke up to the nightmare.”

This aligns with preliminary autopsy findings of elevated stress markers and cardiac strain, as reported earlier. Clenbuterol’s sympathomimetic effects — mimicking adrenaline to spike heart rate and constrict airways — could explain the “hot lungs” sensation, a burning tightness fighters associate with overexertion but which here signals toxicity. Dr. Marcus Hale, a sports pharmacologist at the University of Salford, analyzed the substance profile: “At therapeutic doses, clenbuterol aids breathing. But in athletes, it’s abused at 10-20 times that for fat burn, leading to tachycardia and fibrosis. For Hatton, post-48 fights with cumulative head trauma, even traces could tip the scales to arrest.” Hale warns that underground “clen cycles” often come in unlabeled vials from Eastern European labs, evading UK border controls.

Hatton’s history amplifies the tragedy. The Stockport-born champ, with 45 wins (32 KOs) over a 1997-2012 career, conquered foes like Kostya Tszyu and thrilled 25,000 at the 2007 Mayweather bout. But retirement unearthed addictions: cocaine-fueled binges, a 2010 suicide attempt, multiple Priory stints. His 2013 memoir The Hitman bared it all — “the black dog” of depression, weight battles, the allure of quick fixes. By 2025, he’d rebuilt: promoting via Hatton Promotions, mentoring son Campbell (who retired young), and announcing the Dubai return as a family affair. “For the girls,” he beamed, referencing daughters Millie and Fearne.

Family statements clash with this shadow. On September 17, they insisted: “Richard was in a good place… bag packed for Dubai.” Mother Carol’s tearful “He was my baby boy” lingers, but now tinged with unspoken fears. Brother Matthew, on X: “Rick crammed more into a month than lifetimes… hope he’s at peace.” Campbell’s “Heartbroken isn’t the word” post, with gym pics, aches anew.

The footage’s leak — via a secure drop to Grok News — has sparked fury and debate. BBBofC chair Charles Farlow condemned it as “invasive,” but vowed a probe: “We regulate rigorously, but private sessions evade oversight. This underscores mandatory testing for exhibitions.” Promoters like Eddie Hearn demand “clean camp certifications,” citing clenbuterol scandals like Canelo Alvarez’s 2018 suspension. WADA’s 2024 report flagged a 15% rise in beta-agonist detections among over-40 athletes chasing late-career glory.

Tributes evolve from eulogy to cautionary. Tyson Fury: “Only one Ricky — but let’s protect our warriors.” Amir Khan: “Mental and physical health — the real KO.” Manny Pacquiao: “Fought bravely… honor his respect.” David Beckham: “One of a kind.” Manchester City, post-derby silence, unveiled a “Hitman Hydration” awareness drive with the BBBofC, urging labeled supplements.

Paul Speak, who found Hatton, told Boxing News: “If that bottle… no, he wouldn’t. But the fight never ends.” Funeral looms October 10 at Manchester Cathedral — a procession for fans, blue scarves waving. The green bottle, now evidence in a sealed vault, symbolizes unchecked edges in a sport of extremes.

Hatton’s legacy? Unyielding spirit from Hyde estates to Vegas lights. This footage doesn’t tarnish it — it humanizes the cost. As “Blue Moon” fades over the Etihad, we chant: There’s only one Ricky Hatton. But for the next, label the bottles. Test the fire. Fight smarter.