Before: "Avenge Sienna" the rallying cry for the British contingent - no one's forgotten Jennifer's cruel, relentless savaging of the littlest Brit hottie. "Connelly must pay for what she did to Sienna," Kiera avows in prefight. "But more than that: this entire attempt to come to our shores and humiliate us on our own ground is intolerable. I honestly don't know what's gotten into our Jens, but I'll tell you this: it stops here. Everything has led up to me and Jennifer, and I'll kick her into touch. She'll be shabby, and beaten, crossing the Atlantic with a 1-3 record against us, which should serve as a lesson to any of Jennifer's countrywomen considering similar folly." Connelly unfazed by the rhetoric: she's 100% focused on victory. "I know Keira and I know she won't allow herself to be tormented the way Sienna did," Jen acknowledges. "She'll press me to the point where I'm forced to knock her out, and I do admire that about her. Keira's good - not as good as she thinks she is - but good: I can't take her lightly on her home turf." Jen in white string bikini, white crushed velvet UGG style boxing boots, white gloves. Keira in tan western motif bikini with fringes, tan boxing moccasins with tassles, taupe gloves - hair in highlighted blonde curls tied back off her face. Piped in live from the Royal Albert Hall, London, England.

During R1: Keira shows her speed, lithe aggression - circling and pestering Jennifer with licking, strapping, bewildering punches. Connelly well guarded, patient, picking off shots ticketed for her head, trusting her ribcage to soak up Knightley's sweeping offerings downstairs. Keira's in and out, torso leaning into shots: Jen's coiled, more stationary, waiting on Knightley and looking to counter off the block. Knightley the busier vixen, dominating play with her constant lather - occasionally setting down on a biting, Katie-beating hook - but Connelly parries with her right mitt like a pro. Knightley's round.

R2: Jennifer keeping the right hand high, mindful of Knightley's whippy hooks - American goes to work with her jab this round, suppressing Keira's aggression. Good snapping delivery - Jen stepping into poke, twisting the mitt against Keira's soft cheek, knocking her head back - British lass stepping out, scowling as she roams to her right, looking for angles from which to bound in on Connelly. Jennifer nice and compact, stalking Keira behind the jab, then fading the Knightley counterattacks, looking to walk Keira into tidy check-hooks counters. Another tactical frame - Jennifer's discipline takes the round.

R3: Keira plays the jabbing game, keeping her right hand high, palm out as she flutters jabs at Jen's face, then pokes the left hand hard against American breasts - saucy connects put a lascivious grin on Keira's lips. Jennifer's turn to scowl - she's half a step behind as Knightley taps and scoots. Keira turning Jen's left flank - tassles tossing - forcing Connelly to rotate out of her stance. Knightley adjustment: she can't get her hook up top, but she's starting to dip down and lash it against Jen's flank, carving in sweet beneath the raised elbows to pink up that pale, taut flesh. Connelly unhurt, but giving up clean, scoring blows, drops another round as Knightley shows her class in the third.

R4: Keira showing her small-girl imitation of Stacy Keibler - all over Jen with a lathering, batting assault of bandy armed lefts and rights. Wide stance, Knightley: she's leaning in and out, swinging tic-toc punches onto Jen - gloves bouncing off flanks, head and shoulders as Connelly hunkers down behind her guard. Connelly being lathered, being turned, but she's calm in the pocket - ducking her head, keeping elbows in and dukes up - she's methodically weaving her way ever closer to her rival. Down the stretch, Jen with some nifty bobs and weaves underneath rangy Knightley swipes: Connelly rotating up out of her crouch hooks British chin a tidy clout and KNIGHTLEY'S SHOOK! Keira stepping in fence post holes - caught the hardest punch of the fight so far and she's instantly wobbly butt. Jennifer lancing in: reaching left up top to stabilize, PLOWING right hand amidships, glove spanking TART off slender tummy, spilling Knightley to ropes in agony. Keira all cramped up, doubled over: Jennifer looms above, goes HEARTLESSLY to the lower back with swishy lefts and rights, hammer-pounding those kidneys to the bell. Boos at the bell - official pulling Jen off and reading her the riot act about how sensitive the lower back is to punishment: Connelly takes points, ignores the rest.

R5: Body punishment, Jen to Keira. Gruesome stuff, but necessary - Jennifer consolidating her strong fourth with a brutal subjugation of Keira's ribs and tummy, looking to wick away Knightley's lithe mobility in the fifth. Just a steady, walking beatdown - poor Keira stooped forward, gloves at her eyebrows - Jen leaning in close, tucking and chopping systematically in above the hips; gouging up into the sternum; swiping at the belly. Excrutiating to watch - Knightley's legs traumatized, trembling - she's hobbled, flat footed, either stumbling forward or stepping backward while stooping forward. Jennifer so consistent, so methodical - resting her chin on either Knightley shoulders, working both sides of the plate with bite - she beats Keira bell to bell, emerges as the stronger lass in an otherwise competitive first half.

R6: Jennifer's starting to roll Keira up - Knightley visibly collapsing on all fronts now. Sensational body punching effectively hobbling Keira - Knightley basically flat footed, tilted forward in stupor behind her mitts: Connelly loading up and going at her with vicious, vicious intentions. Jen still smashing at the body, reducing that sinuous torso to achy rubble, but now she's coming off tummy with uppercuts - scraping away on Keira's guard, splitting the mitts to pick Knightley up. Keira shows heart - absorbing some thrilling blasts to chin and body both - she's crippled, broke down, but still lurching forward, soaking up trauma as Connelly expertly walks her foe into more and more abuse. Bell: Jennifer beaming for the first time tonight - it's the little whimpering noises Keira's making that finally put a smile on Connelly's usually stoic face.

R7: Shopworn Keira struggles up off her stool, affixing mitts to temples like some kind of beat-up robot, sluggishly pushing forward to meet her doom. Jennifer tucking into Keira - gorgeous, lashing right/lefts on the body crumpling limber Brit up, buckling her knees. Keira sobbing aloud behind her mitts - sound seeming to goad Jennifer to fresh heights of vigour - Connelly really taking it to Knighley now, dipping to get smashing leverage in behind the elbows. Keira swooning to ropes, still bent forward like a question mark - Jennifer RAKING the dismantled beauty mouthwatering uppercuts and hooks, treating herself to all things Knightley. Keira loosening up, guard falling apart at last: her exquisite, drowsy face now exposed; Jennifer pounds away hooks and crosses. Knightley staring into shellack, lolling into the ropes, hands dropping and THE REF STEPS IN! Jennifer shunted aside before she can do more damage - TKO7 Jen Connelly!

After: Connelly makes good on prefight prediction to stop Knightley - intense early round negotiations give way to a steady, one sided pounding until poor Keira simply went out on her feet at the ropes. Jennifer removes gloves, immediately pushing her way into the Knightley corner to gather her former stablemate up - poor Keira blubbering, pleading, but there's no stopping the walk. Jen with a strong right arm around Knightley's slim hips, waving imperiously into an outraged audience and making firm eye contact with the rest of the British contingent at ringside as she passes above. Beckinsale, Mitra, and Miller all positively livid as Jennifer struts past, displaying beaten Keira like a slap in the face to each and every one of them.