Posted by simguy on 7/25/2008

Before: "I told you guys Bell's legs were shot," a confident Ryan grins in prefight. "I took her into deep, deep water last time out - used her up good: there's less and less Cat Bell for me to worry about as time goes on. Truth is fellas, I carried Cat last fight - carried her - just to put a little extra mileage on that broke-down chassis of hers and get her prepped for this beating. She's just not built to sustain the constant grind of a best-of-seven, and I think we're finally going to see the wheels fall off for Cat in this fight." Bell controlling herself - tempers frayed by the long, intense confrontation - there's no sign of even the frigid cordiality that used to exist between these two. "I didn't think it was possible," Bell says, "but I actually hate Jeri Ryan just a little more than I did before she opened her fat mouth today. She carried me. That's what she actually expects you to believe. If by 'carry', she means letting me beat her to a pulp down the stretch last time, then yeah - she carried me all right. Listen: this fight is crucial - this fight has the potential to be a backbreaker for one of us, and I'm going to make sure it's Jeri's back on the line. I'm looking to decisively defeat Jeri and break her spirit. I want the sixth fight to be a foregone conclusion: my plan is to win the series for all intents and purposes, right here, right now." Bell in black bikini; black gloves; shiny black hair. Jeri in crimson bikini, black gloves.

During R1: Jeri backs Cat up with right hands to upperchest and breasts, stoutly delivered: Bell able to firm at the ropes, forming earmuff. Ryan squares away - twitching her torso side to side, pounding short, clubbing lefts and rights off Cat's arms, shelling away at the protected skull. Ryan dipping either shoulder down on occasion to strap the waist: heavy, lanky licks. Bell oddly passive - grimacing as she's shelled in her foxhole - keeping her guard together, not doing much. Down the stretch, Ryan systematically slamming rights and lefts across the waistline, finally gets cringe from Bell: Cat's guard loosens and she eats an opportunistic right uppercut from vigilant Ryan. Quick, nasty clean up: Jeri eyes-wide as she clocks Cat a wide hook, drills her a straight right hand: Bell slumps into ropes, blinking in stupor - round ends before Jeri can capitalize further. One-sided shellacking first, Jeri Ryan.

R2: Cat's warmed up: she takes midring behind a fearsome jab, forcing Ryan to duck-and-cover. Cat deploying vicious right hands to Jeri's left flank - tight-arc roundhouses with plenty of hips and legs behind 'em; knuckles plowing in flat, Cat's right elbow out to the side. Jeri grimacing - straightening up, walking away: Cat walks her down, staying in touch with thrusting poke from the shoulder. Midway through, Bell stalking patiently - suddenly she hops forward - right hand at her hip; she twists torso-left, turning into the short right hand to Jeri's gut, pounding the breath from her foe. Ryan moaning, hugging her body and backing shabby to ropes: Bell's turn to advance, square up, and bash away. Jeri rudely battered for a few moments, but she rallies: withering trade develops as Ryan's slinging back from her hips, rocking Cat in turn. Crowd roaring as tall, strong beauties set themselves and slug toe-to-toe: big, caroming blasts bounce off skulls, flatten jugs, thump against ribs in shellacking melee. Both girls wobbly butt, stunned at the bell: Ryan's back still on the ropes leaves no doubt it's Cat's round.

R3: Ryan holding her left low, right at her cheek - she's up-jabbing early, pawing at Cat's face. Minute mark sees Bell counter over top Jeri's jab with a ringing right cross: big blonde head-swivel shifts initiative to brunette. Cat steps in behind her jab, driving Jeri backwards; another right cross scores, turning Ryan's head - chasing her ropeside. Bell coldblooded as she wades in - twitching her torso side to side to club short, pulverizing lefts and rights off Ryan's flanks and breasts. Blonde's lips part in astonishment as Cat's simply slamming away head-on. Jeri buckling - right under her chin, left at her gut, elbows in - shuddering as Cat unleashes a methodical, clobbering beatdown to torso. Heavy bag work for Cat through the second minute - but as she tires - once again, Jeri proves resilient. Ryan hurt, but able to reach in to clinch around Cat's ribs, then tuuurrrrn Bell slowly into the ropes. Jeri crowding - using her left forearm to push back Cat's throat, then clock her right hands over the top. Ryan belly-to-belly, mauling Cat at the ropes, does a good job of answering Bell's thudding haymakers late.

R4: First-minute boxing from Jeri - she pivots flat-footed to her left, exploring Cat with snappy up-jabs. Ryan's left hand still low - bell slowly keying on it - timing it - dropping right hands over it and scoring to Ryan's chin. Accumulation loosens Jeri's knees - she covers up earmuff in the middle minute, trying to regroup. Cat has her way - fronting on Jeri, scraping muscular right uppercuts across the guard, then slinging the wide hook around - breaking down the defences. Ryan stumbling - hits ropes: Bell stalking, hops in and gets another of those short, pounding right hands from her hip to Jeri's tummy, doubling Ryan over with a shout. Cat dips down, stacks Jeri upright - pulling her arms out of the way and POUNDING that rack! Crowd roaring as Cat bares her teeth, taking a moment to humble her rival's hulking jugs with smashing, side to side shellack. Groaning Ryan absorbs, then droops forward to clinch, tying up around Cat's ribcage. Bell stamping on the spot to maintain position - jamming away punches around Jeri's outstretched limbs, taking Ryan in above the hips. Ref's break: Cat punching Jeri's nose a set up jab, then driving down into the body with a harpooning right hand. Bell carrying through with her right shoulder touching Jeri's tummy, crowding the blonde to ropes with follow-through: Ryan sobbing out - eyes shut tight, mouth in a wide "AHHH" as she soaks a tremendous blast to the midsection. Trace of a smile on Bell's weary face at the break: she takes a moment, looking Jeri over.

R5: Ryan circling to her right, still wincing/cringing slightly: Cat walks her down. RIGHT HAND, JERI RYAN! Cat on the march - Jeri times her - both girls try for right crosses but Jeri's is first, shorter, straighter and on the button. Cat's head flings back, knees buckle - she stays upright, but she's rickety, stumbling back into ropes. Jeri wades in, knuckles together at her tummy, elbows out to either side: she sets up a workmanlike side-to-side slugging rhythm from this posture - bouncing mitts off Cat, then bringing 'em back to her own tummy to reset. Bell earmuffed up, sitting heavily in ropes: she takes a first minute shelling she'll never forget as Jeri simply plows home the leather. Desperate - on the verge of collapse - Cat reaches to clinch: Jeri stacks her up, chesting her brunette into ropes, then squirming to yank hands free. Ryan dirty-boxing when she's tummy-to-tummy - shoulder-butting Cat's mouth, getting the elbows up, head-scrubbing her - anything to struggle free of Bell clinches. Ryan using her forearms to push Cat's hips back, creating room underneath for swinging, full-blooded body shots, doubling Bell up in pain. More stack-ups follow - Ryan reaching under Cat's arms and heaving her into ropes, then it's savage pay-back to jug - Ryan determined to answer each and everyone of those rack-busters Cat hit her with, in kind. Bell's head lolling, lips parting, eyelashes fluttering - it's gut check time - she's wilting badly, just trying to tie up. Ryan squirms atop her girl, savagely pouring the leather to Bell, but can't get her to go. At the break, a mouthbreathing Jeri chests up, shouting in Cat's face: "IT'S OVER! YOU'RE FINISHED!" Until ref pulls her off.

R6: Cat? Beat up: straggling off her stool, face swelling, eyes wincing. Jeri's banged up, but fresher - she takes the fight to Cat. Ryan steps close, reaching in to push Cat's arms apart, then it's a clipping right uppercut; tidy left hook in close, toggling Bell's chin. Cat sleepy in response - swaying slightly, but banging back: rangy right/left bounces loud off Jeri's abs, drawing grimace. Ryan reaches in again, pushing the arms aside, then smites Cat a tight right cross inside, chopping at her chin. Still in close, Ryan dips left shoulder, tucks a short, heartless left uppercut to sternum, draining the colour from Cat's face. Bell retreats a step, walks Jeri into a tight hook off the right foot, then exchanges a short right uppercut for a Ryan left hook. Both tall woman nice n' compact at close quarters, shortening up stroke. Back and forth - grueling, bruising, professional fare. Always and everywhere, it's Ryan hammering her way forward, willing to pay any cost to get Cat moving backward. Break: Bell panting, eyes half shut; Ryan as badly worked over, but livelier, clearly happier about the way things are going.

R7: Similar workmanlike fare: Cat assuming her stance, dukes up, ready to box; Jeri reaching in, stepping close, slamming away after first disrupting Cat's guard. Women wander around the ring - Jeri advancing, Cat retreating sullen: Ryan constantly at her girl, banging her body, clipping her chin, strapping away thick to jug. Bell offering back effective bump-n'-slug in spots - as well as walking Jeri into preemptive shots - but Ryan's busier, more aggressive. Late the round, Jeri's grinning as she systematically pushes forward, whacking sidearm right hands over and over to Cat's waist as Bell retreats. Cat ashen-faced at the break, stepping gingerly back to her stool; Ryan breathing hard but loving the sight of Cat's slumping backside.

R8: Cat: right hand at her mouth; left chest high - she rolls her left shoulder as she steps, then pumps in a refreshed, popping jab. Ryan's advance slowed by howitzer poke: she covers up, crouches slightly, trying to weave her way in. Bell banging away one-twos up top, then dipping the left shoulder, licking the hesitation hook like a baseball bat across Jeri's stomach. Ryan spends an abortive first minute trying to wade forward: she's soundly thumped as Cat dictates terms. Middle minute sees Cat step up the pressure midring: now SHE'S reaching in, pushing aside Jeri's arms, then clippin' her cute on the inside. Jeri's head snaps back from ringing right uppercuts and biting left hooks. Jeri's breasts bunch up and jump at Cat's bashing touch - groaning blonde reaching 'round brunette shoulders, but failing to tie up as Bell thrashes away to belly. Final minute sees Bell systematically go at Jeri along the perimeters - pounding jabs up the middle disrupting the defence, setting up crashing right crosses and carving left uppercuts. Ringsiders screaming as Ryan's head lolls late - her legs locked up and stiff, just grimly propping her up. Break: Cat seething, but exhausted, battered face betraying her disappointment at not being able to get Jeri off her feet.

R9: Shabby vixens lurch up off stools, blinking in stupor, then mindlessly trudging towards each other, lips parted. It's crude, ponderous slugging - the women reaching in with pawing lefts, hoping to locate the opponent for sloppy, hamhanded rights. Neither has the legs or defensive reflexes to make the other miss: crowd shrieking when a face is punched, and the girl stumbles to the side, seemingly oblivious to her own destruction. Frequent, sloppy clinches as the girls fall-in on borrowed legs - touch of offending tummy galvanizing the fighters to immediately twist and turn the other off balance on sheer instinct. Backsides jostle about as numb legs stamp; drowsy faces bump together, or slide across sweat-tacky upperchests as vixens use each other for support. As groggy mauling goes on, it's Jeri on her heels, getting backed up, accepting extra punishment in the exchanges. Bell just mindlessly stumbling forward, willing herself to outwork her foe. Break: both girls slapping at each other in a loose clinch - ref tugging 'em apart, giving each a worried once-over.

R10: Same again. Neither girl has the legs to get cute or work a stratagem: they paw for each other, swing from the hips, fall in together, wrestle. Much panting and whimpering in the clinches - both women agonized, exhausted, yet hating the feel of offending warm belly or breast pressing against flesh. Clean chin-clouts back and forth - more screams from the crowd as each woman looks ready to go, but always, the fighters reel, firm, struggle forward for more. Dangerous exchanges when both miss right hands, leaning far forward on follow through - then both attempt lashing comeback hooks with big, sweeping deliveries. Down the stretch, one such exchange sees Cat's hook swivel Ryan's head, sending Jeri stomping back on her heels with a distressed expression, her jugs a-jumpin' until she hits ropes. Cat wades in - right hand at her hip; she turns into that pulverizing short right, splashing away to Jeri's jugs with a succulent spank. Ryan sobs out, sagging into ropes, her head lolling back, baring her long, sweat-tracked throat - her hands falling to her waist. Cat setting herself to bank insurance, but there's the bell: ref pulls Cat away, sheltering broken Ryan from the coup de grace. Comes back UD10 close, Cat Bell.

After: Hard to tell the winner from the loser: both in agony, senseless with punishment and exhaustion. Standing ovation from a thrilled crowd - including many hard-to-impress lightweights who know only too well what this fight has cost these women. HBO quick to slap in the Swan Lake tape - fearing the worst. Doesn't stop whatever's going to happen, from happening, however.

Post Fight