UNIFIED BANTAMWEIGHT TITLE
Posted by simguy on 22-April-2006. (Thanks to Ginny for this repost)
Portman nervous, but composed at the dais, giving up every physical advantage in the book to get Jaime Pressly back in the ring. "It's a huge challenge," Portman admits, "but Jaime made a mistake by hurting my pride last time we met. I know she's bigger, some say she's faster - even though I don't necessarily agree with that - but I think Pressly's a front-runner and I can get to her with consistency. I guarantee this: no way she blows me out in this fight. I'm too determined, too strong-willed, and too well prepared. I will give Jaime Pressly the fight of her life before we're done!" Pressly grinning like a canary-stuffed cat throughout: Jaime using Natalie's pride to rope an A list mega-celeb into a lucrative series of difficult uphill contests. "I'll put my title up," Jaime announces, ending speculation that the champ might not respect the legitimacy of the smaller girl's challenge. "Why not? Turning back Portman is sweet enough WITHOUT a belt to shove under nose - showing her championship quality will be all icing. I'll just say it right out: the kid has no chance. Notta. Zip. Zilch. I'll toy with her in the first, cripple her in the second and end her night in the third. Natalie's gambling with her health and career in this fight - I don't think she's ever going to be the same after the beating I'm going to give her." Jaime in silver bikini - Natalie in navy bandeau bikini, battle-bunned hair. Small gloves, both vixens.
Rd 1: Pressly out front with zippy lead right hands - very athletic, darting shots from outside as she lunges, ducks and recovers with a dancer's grace. Portman dukes up, staying compact, ducking-with the rights and partially blocking/rolling them early. Minute mark - Pressly slashing in as she circles counterclockwise - lead right hand misses; follow-on left uppercut off the front foot jams in tight between Nattie's mitts and PORTMAN SCOOTS TO HER RUMP! Natalie punching the canvas in frustration, tears of disappointment swelling up: 6 weeks of the hardest camp of her career seemingly flushed down the toilet in just over 60 seconds of Jaime. Pressly prancing, glaring as she stalks neutral corner - she pounces back on after 8, but PORTMAN WON'T HAVE IT! Natalie a little buzzed, but serviceable - she lowers her head, pitches away rights and lefts from the hips to reject Pressly's finishing run, backing blonde to midring. Furious two-way from two quick-mitted girls sees both nipped and clipped - crowd roaring in appreciation at the high-energy output at the bell.
Rd 2: Jaime fixing Natalie's position with stiff poke - jamming into Portman's guard as Nat covers up. Pressly able to hook off her jab, or slide in oily right cross chasers - Portman dinged up in a shaky first minute as Pressly's vicious, biting punches penetrate the guard. Natalie shaking off damage, gets on her bicycle - brunette concerned, frowning as she circles, trying to regroup as Pressly goes on the hunt. JP stalking, trying to jump-in hooks off her jab against nimble Portman - Natalie able to skirt the perimeter and avoid further peril, but she's not getting anything ON Jaime: Natalie can't win by playing it this safe.
Rd 3: Portman continuing to fine-tune her defence: she's reading Jaime's darting lead right hand, rolling under it with a high guard; she's leaning back, stepping out, rotating her torso to the right while placing the right hand open at the left side of her mouth - just sliding away from Pressly's jagged left uppercut. Cat-and-mouse - Portman still not able to go over to offence, but she's using the ring, feinting Pressly, faking her out at the ropes and spinning 'round blonde flanks before Jaime can pin her down. Pressly narrow-eyed - she's got command of the ring, but not supremacy - can't put sustained mitts on meat against her crafty/elusive foe. Shutout by default by Pressly, but Natalie's got her legs back, looks recovered from early trauma.
Rd 4: Natalie gambling, luring Jaime to spots, then timing her - deliberately looking to beat Jaime to lead right hands, then sticking around inside to work with her. Action heats up - little set-piece battles being fought out toe to toe all over the ring as Pressly steps in, engages in rapid-fire exchanges. Brisk PIK! PAK! PEK! of small gloves on taut chassis - furious punching by both women, but supple/smart defending - tension high as crowd waits for one or the other girl to get seriously hurt in hot trade. Final minute: Nat beats Jaime to right cross onna chin - Pressly's knees give a shimmy as she waves her own right over the top, then staggers away to her left, eyes wide. Nat pouncing, clawing at Jaime with rising lefts and rights, then committing to a series of crisp, biting left hooks - raking Jaime against the ropes as Pressly covers up. Bell: Natalie baring her teeth, tucking into Jaime's exposed right flank as wiry blonde legs are tested - ref has to push Natalie of as Portman scoops a little extra.
Rd 5: Natalie's earned a little respect - now her jab makes an appearance, further complicating Jaime's life. Pressly's cocky swagger gone: she's frowning, concentrating as the fight gets problematic. Portman pre-emptive with her educated left mitt - sometimes just running Jaime onto poke and disengaging, just to rob Jaime of rhythm. Portman's footwork initiating - Jaime's reactive: Natalie saying when and where the girls will trade. Natalie feinting VERY effectively, then as Jaime over-reacts and covers up - Portman lunges in, carries the right to the pit of Pressly's stomach and vanishes 'round the right flank with classic hit n' run. Frustration builds - Pressly gets sloppy and late the round: she runs into a gorgeous check-hook counter, Natalie just cleaning up on chin with her shoulder tucking in tight behind the shot, sending Pressly stumbling away to her left. No follow up from Natalie: she correctly reads Jaime absorbing the shot well - girls circling, glaring gunslinger-eyed at the bell.
Rd 6: Natalie's jab starting to penetrate with regularity - tapping nicely at Jaime's left eye, often forestalling blonde plans. Natalie's feints still unnerving Pressly - giving Portman raiding opportunities as she lunges in with right hands to the body, then pivots 'round Jaime's right flank free of charge. Natalie still gutsy on occasion, freely exchanging with Jaime, tearing up tummy and jug as girls let hands go in crowd-pleasing bursts - brisk staccato of tight leather on firm bodies an audible treat for afficianados. Chin-checks hard to come by for either lass: both too sinewy, too smart, moving heads too well for clean connects above the collarbone. After 6, both beauties are scuffed up, but focused, mentally digging in as consistent execution starts to become the decisive element.
Rd 7: At corner's urging, Jaime presses her attack to Natalie's body. Pressly stepping in - Portman expecting the lead right and ducking into it, but Jaime's bringing the right up underneath instead, gouging Natalie to sternum. Lathering, whipping hooks follow - licking at Portman's flank and back, punching her out of her crouch and moving her to her left. Pressly's jab returns to bedevil Natalie, achieving temporary air superiority as Portman's jab is grounded. Middle minute - Jaime working diligently with limber-stroking rights and lefts to midsection: Portman cramping up, stooping forward - she's hurt! All Jaime - very calm, professional, just cleaning up - blonde working right/left strapping on the waist, then curling right/left against Portman's guard, then going back downstairs. Natalie stooped forward behind her mitts, grimacing, suppressed - she shows a sturdy leg in not going down to Jaime's workmanlike assault in the seventh.
Rd 8: Natalie gambles, luring Jaime forward with a hangdog "I'm-hurt-to-the-body" expression, then punching Pressly a whistling right hand to solar plexus to renew hostilities. The hottest, most intense, most unforgiving two-way of the fight erupts: no quarter asked or given - girls panting, whimpering as both lean forward, release hands downstairs. Licking lather brings crowd to it's feet - nothing like the small women when they get to swapping at full speed and JAIME WOBBLES TO ONE KNEE! Jaime pasty-faced, mouth open, eyelashes blinking in astonishment - Natalie glaring down, breathing hard, chest heaving: complex moment as girls silently renegotiate everything between them in a few heartbeats. Jaime rises, wincing, but determined: rest of the way a brutal, scraping toe-to-toe - both girls jamming in withering right hands to the body, mopping up hooks tits and chin to the bell. Portman's corner calm, reinforcing key points, tending to Natalie's aches and swelling: Pressly's corner screaming, berating her, challenging her - Jaime distant throughout, sullen.
Rd 9: Jaime feints, lands a hesitation lead right on Portman's chin - NATALIE'S STEPPING IN FENCE POST HOLES! Nattie distraught, badly shook - she covers up earmuff, retreating to ropes under a brace of chiselling jabs, strafing right hands from snarling Pressly. Jaime to the body: right hands ripped home, then mop up from there - but Natalie's giving it right back. Plucky little brunette proving badger-like as she keeps elbows in, swipes and shoeshines in tight bursts, constantly rebuffing Pressly's advances. Jaime leaning in, going wide to Natalie's hips and flanks with limber-limbed stroke, but Portman getting vicious, curling rips inside - licking small mitts off taut tummy, solarplexus - really getting into Jaime as Pressly pushes forward. Down the stretch, Portman being pressed hard, but getting the better of it - she comes off the body with a ringing hook to chops, stunning Jaime: Pressly tilts to her right, right shoulder in the ropes. RAIN OF RIGHT HANDS! Natalie clouting Jaime upside the head while squaring away on Jaime at the ropes - Pressly staring, hands stacked chest-and-tummy as she ships shellack and JAIME GOES DOWN! Pressly hacked to her hands and knees - Portman bellowing in exultation as ref bodies her back. Natalie wriggling in the grasp, trying to get free: bantamweight title hangs in the balance as a shellshocked Jaime Pressly slumps on her stool during the break.
Rd 10: Both beauties visibly hurting, walking to each other, guarding-up and falling in to work at slow-tempo, mouth-on-shoulder. TUP! TUP! TUP! - small mitts beat thick tunes out on slender torsos - girls taking turns pushing at one another, tucking in. Portman steadily outworked, giving ground: Natalie mouth breathing - heroic effort in the 8th and 9th seems to have drained little brunette. Pressly able to fit mitts into jug, ribs and tummy - forcing herself on Natalie, walking her back. Portman glum, reaching in, trying to tie up, but Jaime's having success just being big, leaning in and working. Fight moves to ropes - Natalie alternating between reaching for Jaime to clinch, or covering up to block-and-roll: Pressly's methodical attack unimpeded as Natalie's paunch gets routinely cuffed and tucked. Midway point - Jaime squared away, now beating at Portman: the hook straps to flank, clouts the ear; the right hand clouts to jaw, digs in slutty sternum. Pressly pushing up with her left shoulder/elbow into Natalie's forward guard: Portman sagging in the ropes, soaking, not answering back. Final minute - Jaime's pulverized Natalie's little body, now she comes up between the mitts, carving the uppercuts, shredding the defence. Portman just standing there - numb, gritty, stupified - rhythmic lather just paralyzing brunette as crowd grows shrill in anticipation. Tight right uppercut: Natalie's head tosses back off her mitts, eyebrows high, eyes closed, mouth open. Left hook to cheek: Nat's head swivels, eyes dim - she slumps in the ropes, staring. Jaime resets feet, hooks Natalie's mouth, drifts her a short right hand on the face - it's all pouring through now, Portman defenceless, mouthing punches and the REF STEPS IN! TKO10 Jaime Pressly as the champ rescues her crown from almost certain defeat in the dying seconds of the bout!
After: Portman all used up, gingerly led to her stool - she breaks down into exhausted, shuddering tears as realization of how close she came to rocking Jaime's world dawns. A gritty midrounds rally, late round knockdowns had Natalie ahead on all cards going into the tenth: Pressly dredging up her finest effort as a professional to turn back one of her most intensely focused challengers ever.
And Jaime wants more.
Boos cascading down as a bleary-eyed Portman is pulled from her stool by the meat of her upper arms and rudely brought about: Jaime riding her right arm around Natalie's slender waist, hugging her close while stepping her around for a bitter walk of shame. Pressly angry, delivering a meanspirited walk out of fear and resentment at how hard she was pushed tonight: Portman's cheeks tearstained, but she's defiant - refusing to grant Jaime any more satisfaction. Crowd doesn't like it: they know plucky underdog deserves much, much better than this. "I hope Natalie's learned her lesson," Jaime tells BLONDE! Mag reporters in postfight. "I carried her to give her an extra-good going over. She's finished as an elite fighter thanks to me: no way anyone recovers from the kind of hell I dished out tonight!"