Part I

Posted by Simguy on 3/15/2007, 6:53 am

Before:  “This is huge opportunity for me,” says unlikely Doherty-buster Bev Mitchell in prefight. “It’s a chance to really launch my fighting career at the expense of a girl who’s been given everything on a silver platter.” Bev’s handlers trying to shush her—she waves them off: “No, let me say this. I’m tired if everyone walking on eggshells around Hayden. She got whaled on by Alyssa—she couldn’t handle the step up in class—and now everyone’s babying her. You know what? Hayden’s gotten the kind of push most of us would kill for. I’ve fought SO hard—in little WB backroom smokers and short-money duke-joints; I’ve fought dinner-theatre and cruise ship—I know what it is to pay your dies. Hayden’s had the red carpet thrown down for her her whole career and I’ll just say it: Panettiere’s spoiled. She’s too soft and pampered to make it against real hard-working fighters, and I’m going to dress her up every bit as bad as Alyssa did. That’s what real fighters do to pretenders,”

Panettiere open-mouthed—bitter resentment from a sweetheart like Bev a hard pill to swallow for Punchin’ P. “I took a bad beat from Alyssa, no question about that,” admits Hayden, “but Milano would have beaten any flyweight in the world that night, and I wasn’t ready. Beverly fought her way into this fight—I will give her that—but she isn’t one bit more legit than I am. Bev: I’m sorry yo0u’re jealous—I can’t help that, and I know you’ve had a tough time, but you know what? Good fighters with real potential get hard pushes: mediocre fighters stay where they are, It’s called life, and yours is about to suck, big time!” Mitchell rushes the podium—li’l scrapcats are pulled apart, organizers don’t know quite what to make of the unexpected ill will between these two,

Bev in cropped mauve camisole top, mauve bottoms, small white mitts, messy puncher’s ponytail, UGG sheepskin boxing boots. Hayden in nautical two piece—red halter-style top with white lapels; solid red sport-bottoms with white belt; white aerobics shoes/socks; small white gloves. Stern scowls marring cute faces during staredown—both girls refusing to touch gloves despite repeated referee instructions!

R1: Brisk! Girls punching into each other midring—straight backs, crisscross lefts and rights jutting out from the shoulder, buffeting and pasting pretty faces. Mitchell slowly gets the better of Hayden in this bumpercar boxing, starting to outland HP, turning her head to the right and backing her up. Panny hits the ropes, covers up panicked: Mitchell shifts from straight crisscross to wide underslung lefts and rights, batting furiously at her foe’s sturdy chassis, Hayden gasping, clinches—Bev bouncing on the spot, working hard to wrench her arms clear—ref issues break, pushes Mitchell back. Sullen look from Hayden—Beverly upbeat, bopping right back on top—pounding away rapid fire crisscross to get Hayden covering up, then swinging roundhouses against the girl’s sides and tummy. Bell: Mitchell hops away all ponytails and grins—that would be Bev’s boot you see up Hayden’s ass here in the first.

R2: Same again—not a lot of artistry here: both girls committed to rapid fire leather, punching palm-down from the shoulder in abrupt crisscross sequences. This time it’s Hayden emerging beating Mitchell to punches as Bev gets her face pasted: both girls hustling leather, but Panny doing the bulk of scoring. Mitchell ping-ponged to ropes—Hayden works her over with stubby shove-n’-slug, bumping and jostling as much as slugging, Crowd-pleasing stuff—Hayden all hot and bothered, teeth bared, eyes furious—very expressive little blonde belting away from a wide stance. Mitchell covered up for the most part, weathering the storm—she can’t get off, but she’s blocking most everything ticketed for her skull—only Hayden’s body work’s scoring flush. Bell: Hayden cleaning her plate—ref ha to pull her away by her elbow and wag a finger in her face: “Break when I say break.”

R3: Crisp palms-down, straight hustle-punching midring—Hayden with her lips curled back, jamming her way into Bev and backing her up. Mitchell having trouble matching Hayden’s pistoning output—Punchin’ P just overwhelming Battlin’ B when the girls stand toe-to-toe and slug from middle distances. Bev galvanized when her back hits ropes—SHE surges, momentarily beating Hayden to punches: Panny’s turn to backup under fire. Back and forth—girls snarling, getting bumped off balance, regrouping, firing back—wild pinball action as vixens just look to step in and chug. Faces pinking up nicely, and the straight-punching trajectory is pancaking both sets of jug. Bell, both girls glaring, breathing hard, cheeks rosy with effort—ref pushes seething flyweights apart as both seem intent on falling in for more during the break.

R4: Midring, Bev’s right hand punches over top Hayden’s left—staggering Panettiere sideways to her right. Stubby left catches Hayden on her left eye, knocking her head back—she never sees the crisp right cross ticketed for chin: DOWN GOES HAYDEN! Panettiere clipped and dropped—she scoots to her backside, head bobbling as she bounces to a stop: Bev brightens, bats mitts, jogs to neutral corner all ponytails. Hayden bitterly disappointed, gets up, brushes herself off and HERE COMES MITCHELL! Bev hopping into Hayden and whaling away—poor Panettiere turtles up earmuff at the ropes, grimacing under the chugging fury of Bev. Mitchell baring her teeth—leaning forward and slamming away underneath with both dukes; stepping with Hayden as she slides to her right along the ropes, keeping a prodding jab in Panny’s guard; pushing Hayden sideways, getting Panny to give up her back—Mitchell just belting away as Panettiere cringes, right shoulder in the ropes. Bell to bell Mitchell as Hayden can’t keep Bev off—round finishes up with Bev’s mitts spanking out tart against Panny’s leftside ribs, left shoulder, tummy and lower back/buttock.

R5: Hayden blinking back furious tears—she’s reckless out f her corner, eating well timed right hands from a grinning Bev, Mitchell a little too sure of her skills here—she’s outclassing Hayden early, but Panettiere’s ferocity carries both vixen to ropes: she’s soon on top, beating wildly at Bev, forcing her to cover up. Midway through: RIGHT UPPERCUT HAYDEN P! Panny arching her back, picking Bev up out of her crouch—first uppercut thrown for either woman just exactly what both should be doing more of. Mitchell suddenly dazed, upright: she stares bleak into a clouting hook/tidy right hand on her mouth, toggling her chin side to side. Knuckle-shove in the shoulders braces Bev upright, then Hayden’s into her with a swinging right in the waist—straight arm blast shivering like a two-by-four hitting a boulder. Another knuckle shove—Hayden propping and jostling while keeping distance—then she’[s back to the body, batting away right/left. MITCHELL’S HURT! Bev wilting forward, face in gloves—oh, she’s getting pushed upright, then harmed to her midsection as Panny bullies Mitchell. Bell: Panettiere still working—angry tears starting to swell as she belts helpless prey. Ref tugs Hayden away and gives her a good shake—reminding her about the break protocol.

Mitchell/Panettiere conc.

Posted by Simguy on 3/15/2007, 6:54 am.

R6: Bev’s wilting here; shying away from that bitter midring hustle-punching; covering up with her back to ropes, allowing Hayden to belt her flanks, Panny relaxing now—still pumping out leather, but working rhythmically, setting a pace she can keep to the finish line. Straight, palm-down punching used to top—hoping to penetrate Bev’s guard with sheer thrusting volume. Roundhouse blows used against the ribs and body—Panny just batting at Bev whenever the latter bends forward. Ruff palm shoves used to reset—Panny mindful not to fall in and smother herself in Bev, Mitchell reduced to fighting back in spots—able to land her right hand on Panny’s jaw, but without the requisite leverage to back Hayden up, Bell: Hayden brightens, bouncing back to her corner; Bev’s cranky, a little rickety to her stool, lumping up.

R7: Bleak times for Bev Mitchell—she’s shelled, and shelled hard this round, bell to bell. Starts early as Hayden scores with that pulsing straight crisscross, punching past Bev’s guard, knocking Mitchell’s head back and stunning her. Mitchell’s knees give way, then firm—she keeps her feet in an awkward reel to the ropes—Hayden bouncing after her teeth bared—Panny staying in Beverly and lathering her senseless: Hayden’s just a tireless little punching machine-jacking away non-stop as poor Beverly breaks down. Mitchell belted along the aprons, pelted in the corners battered along the ropes—Bev can’t slug back, can’t get away—just grimly sliding along the cables hoping for Hayden to punch herself out. Big, fat, beefy spank, sounding out from Bev’s weary lats and shiny flanks as Hayden’s pinning her ears back: great small-woman beatdown, bell to bell for Panny. At the break, Hayden cruelly mocking Bev, chesting up on her and forcing eye contact: Mitchell crying from the shellack, bitterly pushing Panettiere off her—ref gets in there before extra curriculars can erupt. 10-8 Panny without the knockdown—Bev looks ready to go.

R8: BEV DENIES HAYDEN! Panny bopping over to clean up-she’s met with renewed vigour and outpunched midring as Mitchell face-pastes her girl to the ropes, Hayden covers up dukes at temples, tilting forward: Mitchell shifts to her left, rips a right uppercut—rips it again—rips it again—PANETTIERE’S HURT! Panny wilting so her left shoulder’s in the ropes, right hand curled atop her head—BEVERLY WHALING AWAY! Mitchell treating herself to Hayden—fists bouncing loud off meat downstairs, skidding off skull—just reckless pent up fury and HAYDEN GOES DOWN! Panettiere crying, sinking to her left knee, left hand on ropes for support—right hand pushing up into Bev’s tummy to back her off. Mitchell bellowing down—ref pulling her back—what a turnaround! Panny takes a panicky 8—Mitchell bats mitts hungrily and wades on in. BEATDOWN! Crowd roaring as BEV pins her ears back, bares her teeth and gives Hayden holy whatfor, Big, belting roundhouses in the body; clubbing wide blows on the ears, mixed in with jerking little uppercuts. Panny staggering along the ropes windblown—shouting in pain from the odd body blow, cringing and turning to show Bev either flank. Mitchell still sheeting away at the bell—ref has to pull seething little brawler off and read her the riot act.

R9: HAYDEN WON”T HAVE IT! Panettiere responds—fight just devolving into hustle-punching mayhem as girls reel into and away from each other.. Pretty random—neither girl with any real tactical plan at this point—both looking to close and beat the other to punches. Hayden a little quicker in such circumstances, a little more robust—she’s got Beverly stamping around off balance and missing a lot of shots. Mitchell busting up—Hayden’s been scoring to the face all night, and now jamming right hands are landing repeatedly on the button. At one point, Bev staggers forward weak-kneed—Hayden steps back I good order, walking Mitchell into blunt lefts and rights off the skull and shoulders, bell: Panny celebrates with a swinging left against Bev’s tired paunch; bleat of protest from Mitchell steps in yet again.

R10: OH THE SLUGGING! Little feisties dredge up unguessed reserves, punching with first-round vigour at midring—Hayden’s the first to lose form, staggering forward as she misses a straight left, eating a Mitchell right hand on the mouth, Bev working hard, skidding mitts off Hayden’s pate, pounding her cheeks, busting her mouth, beating her breasts—Panny starting to tumble forward, face concerned: she’s getting the worst of it. Bev mouthbreathing herself, but willing herself to keep trashing—she retreats in good order, walking Hayden into punches, then pursues crisply whenever Panettiere stumbles away. Down the stretch, Bev could have Hayden ready to go: Panny stepping in fence post holes, alternately covering her face or extending her arms in don’t-hurt-me gestures—all the while taking a constant clubbing from busy Bev. Mitchell hops forward, draws the right elbow back, pitches a playground right deep into the pit of Hayden’s paunch: Panny cries out, cramps up: she’s terribly hurt late! Bev feverish in the last 10 seconds, trying to lather Panny to the deck: Hayden brave, tilts into the storm behind her mitts, keeps her feet to the bell. Comes back one point duke…HAYDEN PANETTERE!

After: HEARTBREAK! Bev on ref’s left, Hayden on the right: Hayden yelps out: “YES!!!” as her hand is raised: poor Beverly’s jaw drops in shock, eyes immediately welling up, Hayden fronting up and chirping—tons and tons of hard feelings here as a relatively entitled Hayden takes everything away from a hardworking Beverly tonight, then let’s her hear all about it. It’s too much for Mitchell—she lashes out—wild meless ensues as officials pull screeching little wildcats apart. Hayden takes the first skirmish I what just might be a lifelong battle to suppress Bev.

Reposted by Archer 8/14/09