UNIFIED WELTERWEIGHT TITLE

KRUZHERS VS THE MOUNTEES STABLE WAR

Posted by Simguy on 12/23/2006, 2:19 pm.

Before: McAdams holds—pressure shifts to Loken’s shoulders to defend against the stern challenge of Natasha Henstridge. “I outgun Natasha,” Loken asserts with confidence, “that’s a given. If I can chincheck her early and get her out of there, I’ll do it—but I’m perfectly prepared to go rounds with Henny, win every minute of the contest and bruise her up. However she wants it to go, I’m good—I’m turning this girl back. Hard.” Henstridge long known as quality amongst the big women, but title gold often elusive for the big Canuck. “You never know how many opportunities you’ll get to take belts,” Natasha shrugs, “when the chance comes, you’ve got to put your girl down. Loken’s been boxing up a storm, but to me—she’s gunshy—she fights scared. I’m going to be very aggressive with her, deny her things she takes for granted and make her confront her demons. Kristanna’s a great fighter, maybe the best there is—but I know her game and I know I can compete with her. On any given night, I can be the better woman, and I plan to be in this fight. Loken in belted cobalt blue bkini, white gloves—Natasha in tight strapless tankini—maple leaf motif top, sold red bottoms—red gloves with white knuckle bars.

During R1: RIGHT HAND KRUS LOKEN! Nat STAGGERED as Krissy’s sauntering nonchalantly right, then suddenly diving all-in with KO intentions. Thick licking left/right on the waistline adds to Nat’s woes—but Krissy backs off, happy to put Henny wobbly butt and defensive early. Rest of the round very methodical, stepping, big-woman fare—both girls keeping right hands at cheek while exchanging battering ram jabs. Krissy a little lighter on feet—occasionally double up the jab body and head, then hopping to the left: Natasha set strong, really thrusting out the joke to spank Krissy’s face, upper chest.

R2: More of that heavy, gun-platform step-and-poke-=-right hands nice and high as the girls trade lead lefts. Krissy more mobile—pushing off ball of right foot for thrust, stepping in with poke, then pivoting left—always keeping the angle on Nat. Henstridge scowling, also pushing off ball of right foot and stepping in her jab—there’s nothing to choose between the two as far as weight of shot goes. Loken able to step out, disengaging as she pleases to walk counterclockwise, resetting the ring to suit her taste—champ’s in control—challenger patiently stalking through 2.

R3: Midring steppin’—same methodical pace, same pounding left jabs, punctuated left jabs by Loken’s classy footwork when she needs it,. Loken disengaging, walking to her right, looking thoughtfully over her left shoulder with her hands at her sides—then stepping back in dukes-up to re-initiate matters. Midway through, both girls working hard behind crunching pokes: Loken drops a blistering right hand hard to chin, catching nat looking, Henny backs out with a frown, steps to her right and visibly stumbles—she’s hurt, bringing both mitts to temples as she gathers her wits, Loken alert, sees it—but once again happy to just nibble at tummy or jug with her jabm keeping her distance and harassing Nat to the bell.

R4: Nat more defensive now: she’s lumping up, breaking down a little, getting jab-groggy as Krissy’s poke wins air supremacy this round. Loken with a small, hard grin as she rotates left—nice rolling gait as she pivots around, shoulders loose, the jab erupting suddenly off her shoulder to pound in between Nat’s raised mitts. Loken’s occasional right hands off  the jab slopping straight down into Natasha’s body, spanking brightly off sternum as Nat keeps her mitts up. Henstridge shelled, turning sullenly, facing the music—late the round, Krissy hooks loose n’ wide, steps in and DRILLS the right hand straight up the middle Tic-toc. DOWN GOES HENSTRIDGE! Henny on her back, lifting her head up woozy off the mat as Loken struts past—bell sounds as a breezy Jrusher champion grins into the Mountee corner she’s strafing them.

R5: Third straight shutout, Kris Loken. Henny dukes up, leaning forward, scowling—she wants to close and work, but she’s very tentative, constantly getting pre-empted and sidestepped. Loken upbeat, peppy with her poke, treating herself to Natasha’s face this round—systematically pounding Henny’s left eye to a swollen slit by the end. Long, slanting rights take Henny in her midsection, winning pained grunts from crimped lips—Loken able to fight at distance, use her legs, picking Nat apart through 5.

R6: Henny gets off this round, but she’s still being led round the ring, dictated to by a shimmering sleek, confident champ. Loken’s lips set in the same maddening little smirk—as though she knows—she touches her jab to Henny’s face any time she wants. Natasha’s nose bloodied this round from constant poke; Henny’s head jerking back, eyes looking a little glassy. Loken’s downhill right hands into the body—though infrequent—aren’t doing Nat any good at all: Henstridge biting down on gasps when Krissy slams home to the midsection. Nat’s own jab still a stinger., sounding out loud off Krissy’s gloves or occasionally slamming the champ’s head back: where the jab can go, the right hand can follow—Nat’s just gotta let it go.

R7: Henny taking more chances, coming in off her jab—but Krissy’s legs the antidote to pressure, Loken able to skip aside, lope to spots, open up the canvas at will, forcing Nat to fight her way through the jab all over again. By the middle minute—Henstridge looking shopworn—Krissy able to jab her hard, then push her in her shoulders, shoving her backwards and walking her down with increasing belligerence—crowd squealing as Kris detonates a pair of vicious right hands against Nat’s chin in the final moments, Henstridge reeling at the bell, but eating those monster shots without buckling—Nat battered, but shaking her head defiantly “No” at Kris as Loken strides past.

R8: Kris has been able to get close all night if she so chose: she’s finally choosing to do so in the 8^th. Jabbing to approach, Kris gets Nat covered up—then Loken lean in on her front foot, really stroking in thick, whacking hooks in behind elbows, or clouting blonde paunch, Nat grunting, all bunched up—Krissy can pound the body, then push her girl in the shoulders, sending Henstridge tottering backwards. Hard to watch—Krissy;s been prepping and loosening Nat all night—now Loken’s stepping-to her girl, really laying down the law. Henstridge keeps dukes up, elbows in, trying to hunch forward—but she soaks up tragic hurt to her body this round, offering very little back by way of reprisal.

R9: Loken pushing her weight on  Nat, girls heads in close—Krissy lashing that thick hook to the body. Henny soaks it, touches Kris a little right uppercut inside, then turns over a clubbing hook high on the head that has Loken baby-steppin’/ Kris stops punching: Nat clouts her another hook onna ear, hook her head again—Krissy totters to her left, wide-eyed and shook. RIGHT HAND NAY HENSTRIDGE! Nat tracking Kris as she’s stumbling, driving a right hand onto Loken’s mouth and KRISSY GOES DOWN! Kris sprawled on her back—Nat glaring down all busted up but hungry—Loken rolling painfully off her left hip top beat the count, ON COMES NATASHA! Henstridge adding back in, chin tucked, shoulders bunched—Krissy with a wan expression just puts face in gloves, leans forward off the ropes, BEATDOWN! Natasha unleashing on poor Kris—big, batting rights and lefts shivering off the flanks; scorching uppercuts; clubbing hooks—Natasha simply whaling on her girl, pouring it on with muscular brutality and LOKEN GOES DOWN! Krissy just bludgeoned senseless, drooping to her right under a bashing hail of leather—she sprawls on her side, rolling to her back all blinking and swooning at the bell. Krusher aides carry Kris to her stool as snarling Nat stomps to her stool, drawing thumb across throat to howls of crowd approval and a stuff fine from the commissioner’s office.

R10: Nat up off her stool, batting mitts together, eyes blazing: she’s gotten the ol’ “you gotta knock her out’ speech and she storms on to finish creaky Kris. Loken reeling, mouth open—she immediately toes up as crowd boos, earning a ref’s break. Henstridge walking Kris down, bringing the fight to her—Loken loping to her left, spitting out a “don’t hurt me” jab, then tieing up, easing her back into the ropes with Nat clutched tight for ref’s breaks, Henstridge hard to discourage though—she hunts Loken down relentlessly, swinging hard right hand roundhouses to the waist and mauling Kris up against the ropes—Loken visibly wilting over the latter half the round. Down the stretch, Kris disengaging, backing away—Nat steps-with and DRILLS HER RIGHTY! Loken punched in the face, head rocking back—she staggers all dimwitted and staring into ropes, covering up loose as Nat wads in. OH THE BEATDOWN! Natasha baring her teeth, POURING the hurt to poor Krissy—savage big woman batting shellack against the flanks and back as Loken droops…droops…but makes it to the bell! Coe back UD10 Kris Loken as champ survives to hold her title.

After: Henstridge hands on hips, glaring in frustration—outclassed, but never really outfought, she mounts a tremendous late rally to nearly unseat Kristanna. Loken tottering out of the ring with an arm around Theron’s shoulders—Kris simply willing herself to keep those belts, withstanding one of the worst minutes of her career to make it to the bell. Titles stay put as rival empires stymie one another tit for tat.

Reposted by Archer 5/24/10.