RIP Ricky Hatton

Mate, that erotic asphyxiation angle, with the Hatton family pushing the accident narrative, feels like a desperate dodge of the grim truth. It’s like those wild excuses Eminem skewers in “Guilty Conscience”: “Wait, what if there's an explanation for this ****? What, she tripped, fell, landed on his dick?”—just calling out the absurdity of avoiding the obvious.

The family’s holding onto the idea it was a tragic slip, probably to shield Ricky’s legacy or soothe their own pain, but the inquest’s leaning hard toward suicide by hanging.

Ricky was raw about his struggles with depression, addiction, and past suicide attempts, and even if he seemed “in a good place” with Dubai plans, he’d walked that dark path before. With his history of family fallouts, it feels like he knew the devastation he’d cause—a real “**** you, here have it all” to those he clashed with, leaving them to deal with the fallout. Sad as hell, but that’s where it points.

 

Certainly a possibility. Will never come out if true

 

I must be one of a few on here without a clue what erotic asphyxiation is and not wanting to search this on google.

Sounds like the reverse of watching Rangers play under Russell Martin.

 

Haha, mate, if you're clueless about erotic asphyxiation and avoiding Google, just look up Michael Hutchence.

But let's get real: if Hatton had some kinks or urges to scratch on a quiet Friday night, with his £50m+ career haul (even through the rough patches), no way he's fumbling around solo like that. Bloke could've tapped into the same discreet agencies half the Premiership lads (or SPL big shots, take your pick) swear by—easy access, no mess.

Makes you wonder what the Rangers boys are up to on Fridays, judging by how they turn up on Saturdays under Martin.

 

GOD receive his Soul. Amen.