As the hands of the old clock in the square folded over midday the strains of Blue Moon rang through the ancient Cathedral.

The soundtrack to Ricky Hatton’s ring walks and the anthem of his favourite football team.

Then the silence. A few fleeting seconds as this northern citadel cleared its throat and braced itself for the commemoration of its most-loved son.

If there was a dry eye within these cloistered walls then I for one admit to being too welled up to see.

The eulogists composed themselves to deliver their tributes. The most rending delivered by Ricky’s children Fearne, Millie and Campbell.

Legendary boxer Ricky Hatton was laid to rest at Manchester Cathedral on Thursday 

When the clock struck midday Blue Moon rang through the ancient Cathedral where his service was held

Droves of stars, including Tyson Fury (pictured), attended to pay tribute to Hatton, who died aged 46

Spoken bravely through tears to a prize-ring hero and a person with a heart as vast as the stadium where he cheered for his cherished Manchester City, who stood with the world boxing community at the center of this wave of widespread affection. A scene imbued with sadness, taken too soon from a family grappling with emotions, from a multitude of friends, from all of us who cherished him.

A gathering of champions listened intently. Led by Frank Bruno, the Hitman’s predecessor as the most adored British boxer, and Tyson Fury in one of his vibrant suits complemented by a respectful black tie.

With Wayne Rooney and Freddie Flintoff expressing condolences from football and cricket, with the Liam half of Oasis contributing with a rendition of their hit, Live Forever.

Sorrowfully, not for our Ricky.

Everyone stood as the coffin – painted in sky blue, naturally – was carried aloft from beneath these gothic arches into the dim light of a chilly, grey day. The symbolism was powerful. A gladiator being borne out on his shield. Exactly how he would have desired.

At the steps’ foot, a brass band played robust renditions of There’s Only One Ricky Hatton. Which ushered in a merging of the sporting life streams that define Manchester – the blue of City and the red of United.

A tide of humanity flowed along the three miles of post-industrial streets to the Etihad. Local rivalries were set aside by the blend of cheers and applause. All while the majority of the rest of this northern powerhouse capital came to an exceptional halt.

Ricky’s timing was as perfect as all the knock-out punches in his career of 48 fights and two world titles in different weight classes.

Liam Gallagher took a break from his Oasis comeback tour to pay his respects to Hatton

Former Man United forward Wayne Rooney attended offering the sympathies of football

Thousands of people stood outside the cathedral during a funeral on a moving day that Manchester desperately needed after recent horrors

Manchester has been subjected of late to barbaric horrors of terrorism. The scars of that deadly bomb explosion at a pop concert were reopened last week as Jews were stabbed to death by an Islamic racist on the holiest day in the Hebrew calendar.

How badly was this city in need of an occasion as beautifully moving as Hatton’s last goodbye, in the week of what would have been his 47th birthday. Blue and white football flags fluttered aplenty.

Richard John Hatton MBE did more in one lunchtime, from inside a blue box, to heal the wounds and narrow the divisions in our society than all the pompous, patronising, empty words of our wretched, self-seeking politicians.

Such is the power of the real people when devoted to a fighting man more courageous than all those huddled and hidden together behind their grim masks.

When allied to a warrior chieftain who rallied 30,000 of the faithful to his cause when they crossed the Atlantic to support his fights in Las Vegas against two of the greatest boxers of his and many another generation.

Hatton came home from those expeditions so fearful that his brutal knock-outs by Floyd Mayweather Jr and Manny Pacquiao would destroy his public’s belief in him that he often sank into depression, solitude and sporadic dark flirtations with suicide.

If only he had known. How could anyone forfeit kinship with a man who was a bristling British bulldog in the ring but as loveable as a playful labrador puppy in his daily life?

It seemed that absolutely everyone you talked to among his thousands of mourners identified with Ricky as a friend. By no means all as literally as those close to him, those who swilled ale in the same bar, those thrilled to shake his hand at ringside or on other black-tie occasions. But because of the empathy they felt with a working class icon who was not only as honest as this Friday was long but genuinely humble.

‘Hitman’ Ricky Hatton was a more courageous than anyone you could ever meet

Hatton’s son, Campbell, delivered the most rending eulogy alongside sisters Fearne and Millie 

The funeral cortege started at the Cheshire Cheese at 9.45am, Hatton’s local pub

A brass band led full-volume choruses of ‘There’s Only One Ricky Hatton’ during the day

Truly a people’s campion.

The funeral procession along post-industrial streets lined with cheering crowds paused not only at some of Manchester’s historic landmarks but also outside several of the pubs where he used to clink glasses with the regulars, kept all-comers amused with his grainy, infectious humour often at his own expense and – yes – drank his fill.

The afternoon had begun as a bittersweet love affair. Inevitably so since Ricky lived barely half of what is deemed to be a full life in these days of medical miracles.

The parade reached the stadium where another crowd assembled. Not this time to roar on City alongside him but to bid him farewell. The mood morphing from that of grief at a terrible loss towards one of celebration. The wake will rave on throughout a weekend begun in church solemnity.

The Hitman’s final summons to the altar came in a towered monument to the Anglican persuasion. Ricky Hatton was raised Catholic.  Whatever his personal calling, this national treasure was a gift from God. A gift to his punishing sport, his proud family, his platoons of followers, his cavalcade of pals, the football team which was his other passion, his home town, his admiring country.

A gift which keeps on giving. Even after death.