Originally posted by Simguy on 1/11/2008, 10:11 pm.

BEFORE: “I had a very special visitor in my camp one day—well before this bout got signed,” Hayden relates at the podium. “It was Dan Fishel. She just stopped by to say how much she enjoys my fighting—she’s one of my idols, so I don’t have to tell you how thrilled and amazed I was that she’d come to see ,e. We talked a bit about Alyssa, and you know what she said? She said Milano’s small potatoes and that I didn’t HAVE to fight her again, but that in the end, people only remember the choices you make as a fighter. She told me that fighter’s don’t turn away from threats: they turn IN to them. She had to come back from the same sort of devastating loss to Alyssa that I do and she said it was the best decision I ever made. That was huge for me, because it made me realize—when I look back over my career and think about the women I faced—I want to know that I was able to beat every single name on the list. So here I am: I know some of you disagree with this decision, but it’s exactly the kin d of call I want to make—now and forever.”

Milano rolling her eyes at the heartfelt Fishel anecdote—she’s caustic at the mic. “You can’t seriously be comparing yourself to Dani Fishel?” Milano sneers. “I know Dani, I fought Dani. Baby—you are no Danielle Fishel, What’s it going to take to get through tot that Fisher-Price-Jungle-Jim you call a brain? YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL! Beating you was the easiest night in the ring I ever had—EVER! These are Dani-busting dukes (holds up fists)—you can’t stand against them, Al that’s going to happen, is you’re going to vget exposed and stopped. This fight is where you start becoming a laughing-stock Hayden. Get out while you can,”

Alyssa in forest green bikini top, baby bloue bottoms; black gloves; hair up n’ scruffy. Hayden in purple bikini top; bottoms pale with purple strings and floral printed; white gloves; scruffy ponytail with loose strands.

During R1: Tummy to tummy struggling midring—Alyssa muscles Hayden to ropes, collecting tuff touches in close. ‘Lyss squirming to tuck punches in—just twisting to her left to jam a right into Hayden’s ribs while crowding in. Milano rough with her head—repeatedly scrubbing Panny across the face. Milano reaching under Hayden’s arms, bodying her into ropes, pumping right hands at her tummy, then clubbing away lefts and rights up top as Panny covers up. Down the stretch, Milano pushing to stack, then jamming in hooks to liver: Hayden cramping up, face punched in pain: she’s hurt,. Hanging on with knees a-knockin’ in a strong Milano first.

R2: Alyssa with another strong first minute, doubling the jab, then clinching Hayden, walking her to ropes to employ a bit more smother-n’-slug, Panny punches her way out a minute in—spinning off the ropes to regroup midring, then renegotiating with a series of banging exchanges. Girls crouching, issuing stubby jabs, then ringing each other up hot rights and clubbing lefts: Hayden’s slowly backing Milano up. Panny getting into her rhythm: bobbing her head, punching out of the crouch, jabbing to close: she gets Alyssa ropeside, punishes her. Milano grunting, open-mouthed—crossing arms against her body as Panettiere chugs away to torso and ALYSSA TAKES A KNEE! Brunette breathless, panting, eyes watering: Panettiere scowling as she stomps away from the knockdown, all business.

R3: Alyssa shying away, showing under-rated footwork as she hops the perimeter, walking Hayden into time-wasting clinches. Panettiere getting bogged down, but relentlessly AT her foe: Panny’s face set in a firm little scowl as she bulls her way forward. Hayden jamming away best she can to flanks, lungs, tummy before being tied up: Milano doing a good job of slowing the assault with tummy-ups.

R4: Relentless pressure, Hayden P. Bobbing, weaving, jabbing her way forward—crouching in loose crossed-arms, then erupting with tidy clouting rights and lefts to Alyssa’s biceps, breasts, ribs, tummy. Milano open-mouthed, on her heels—just trying to toe up behind Hayden’s elbow and hold her snug. Panny writhing in the grasp, tugging her arms free of brunette swamp—pushing and mauling when ashe can’t get off. Alyssa pursued to all four corners, smeared aliong ropes, she’s shut out, roughed up in the fourth.

R5: Alyssa firms. Job one: strong stance, jab Hayden as she’s coming in. Job two, walk Hayden into the left shoulder—steer and shove her off. Job three—put punches together: hooks to Hayden’s tummy off the bump; right hands to her cheek, and most importantly:; short, clipping uppercuts in tight. Panettiere catching clout—her head-bobbing rhythm, disrupted by Alyssa sturdy shoulder bumps; blonde much more available this round. Milano outfights Hayden midring—bump-rejecting her, picking up points with tight, clouting delivery.

R6: Same again—Hayden coming forward, but encountering resistance both fierce and clever. Milano bending her knees to receive Jayden onto that left shoulder—shoving her off, clouting her while she’s reorganizing. Milano able to edge forward off her bump-n’-slug—taking the canvas one step at a time, then hunkering down to receive the next Panettiere charge. Hayden absorbing thrilling shellack to her waistline; beaten about both arms; clipped to her chin via Alyssa’s tidy-kind uppercuts. Brunette scoring, consolidating—patiently taking it to Hayden through 6.

R7: Hayden slowing—still coming forward, but she’s looking a little disheveled and scuffed; Milano’s really putting it on Panettiere. Alyssa crouching to receive Hayden’s charge, bumping her chest, hooking her body, stepping her back. Milano no longer clinching at all—hands’re free, elbows in: she’s putting ‘em together tasty, really starting to paste and buffet Hayden about the head and shoulders. Final minute—Panny bumped to the ropes: Alyssa squaring away chest out, chin up—she’s just pinning her ears back and letting her hands go as Hayden faces into a clouting rain of lefts and rights. Punishing: Hayden being brave—arms crossed, elbows up—but she’s catching right on her face at the bell.

R8: Alyssa continuing to outshine Hayden—walking her in, bumping her off, punishing her coming and going. Stepping Hayden to the ropes, Alyssa puts thump on blonde breadbasket—arching back to fit hooks thick to Hayden’s midsection. Panettiere grunting—stooping forward crossed-arm—pretty face all busted up from constant clubbing attrition. Panny’s stuffy body and stubborn legs holding her up—she’s absorbed terrific damage—but this isn’t a fight winning strategy with Alyssa getting off brawny at the ropes.

R9: Hayden off her stool lumped up, but hard-eyed; she chugs into Alyssa with renewed vigour, basically denying that the previous 4 rounds ever happened. Glorious compact toe-to-toe midring—both girls ducking to roll incoming, then back with short, clubbing strokes. Girls missing a good deal over the top, but scoring thick amidships and flanks: great spanking leather bouncing off both firm torso. Slowly but surely, it’s Hayden. She gradually backs Alyssa up in hot trade, and when Milano hits the ropes: Hayden can push-in, forcing Alyssa up out of her crouch, Panny establishing on Milano’s chest—blonde head pressed to brunette clavicle—Hayden’s fists jamming, digging, tucking into achy Alyssa torso. Milano grimacing, clinching down the stretch—her mouth open and moist on Hayden’s shoulder.

R10: Alyssa’s eyes betray her: they’re bleak, discouraged as Hayden pours in fresh reserves. Panettiere spitting jabs, bobbing energetically, coming out of her crouches with ripping hooks: Milano stampeded to ropes under sheets of Panettiere leather. Hayden squirming her forehead into Alyssa’s left shoulder—blonde knuckling brunette arms out of the way, then working to stuff hurt into torso. Milano grimacing, butt in ropes, getting stacked up and pummeled: brunette chassis shaking reverberating like a drum as Hayden digs up every square inch of torso. Hayden in a little world of her own—teeth bared, eyes furious, shoulder rotating as she hup-hup-hups to tummy, then straighten to swipe aide offending jug. Milano ragdoll—hands exploring weak at Hayden’s triceps, or reaching round her back—but Alyssa can’t contain the jailbreak. Panny pours it on to the bell—leaving Milano a swooning, breathless beauty as ref pulls Hayden off. Come backl one point duke—Hayden Panetriere!

After: Hayden bellowing, hugging friends so ferociously she picks many of them off their feet—sensational will displayed as Hayden overcomes first round jitters and a midround Milano rally to take the fight down the stretch. Tractorpull guy tries to draw Hayden out on the topic of Sarah Carter’s mental collapse under the same sort of pressure—Panettiere turns on him fierce:  “Don’t start. She already thinks I’m gloating and she feels bad enough. Sarah fought her heart out, regardless of what anybody thinks of her. Just because I hammered Alyssa and Sarah couldn’t answer Kelly doesn’t mean I’m better than she is.” Press not convinced—BLONDE! Magazine running a little photo essay on the two fights, portraying Hayden as the sturdier, feistier, more combative vixen of the two Foxfire rivals. Ouch.

Reposted by Archer 4/15/09.