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15 October 2005 Title Ch Natalie Portman vs Vanessa Marcil

Page history last edited by Archer844 10 years, 9 months ago

Natalie Portman 07.jpg Vanessa Marcil 02.jpg

 

Unified Flyweight Title

 

Posted by Simguy on 10/15/2005, 10:01 am.

 

Before: Marcil as hungry a veteran as you’ll EVER see: hardhearted little vixen 100% focused on dethroning Nattie P. “This is war for me,” says stone-faced Vanessa. “I don’t know what it is for her, but for me, it’s do or die. I’ve never gotten the looks Gellar or Longoria have coming out of daytime, I’ve never gotten the press Natalie has, but all that’s going to change, With belts around my waist, I will make HISTORY in this sport!” Portman relishing the energy Marcil’s bringing to the podium—she’s soaking up the intensity like a sponge. “I have tremendous respect for Vanessa and I know she’s been overlooked,” gracious champ says, “I wanted her because I know she’ll give me a special fight—a fresh challenge. To me, she’s every bit as good as any ranked fighter in the business—this is a much tougher fight than many I could have made.” Portman in sturdy navy bandeau bikini—Vanessa in floral patterned bikini: wine-dark bottoms giving way gradually to purples/pinks petals and laves up top., Small gloves both vixens: neither wants it any other way,

 

During R1: ACTION! Portman steps in brawling, pasting Vanny a pair of pounding rightsd on the button: Marcil soaks it up, crouches, answers back a TORRID two-gun rebuke to the put of Natalie’s flat belly. Portman stepping back under fire—lips a-snarling—she doubles up tidy hooks under Vanessa’s chin to retake that ground. Blistering two-way fire—both corners screaming themselves hoarse for respective fighters to BOX but both blissfully uncaring . Marcil right hands detonate upside Portman’s head, shunting her sideways—Van steps with, pounds another right behind Natalie’s ear, hooks her jugs, hooks her teeth and PORTMAN SCOOTS TO HER REAR-END! Shellshocked Nattie skidding to a stop—she’s sitting up pretty, face pinched with hurt—she’ll struggle up for 8. ON COMES MARCIL! Vanessa’s eyes ablaze as she pounces in…ONLY TO BE REBUKED! Furious Nat Portman lefts and rights=--punches arcing up from the hips—Marcil getting chin and jig-clipped backs away, lifting her hands to block. BELL! Girls huffing, puffing., little fists clenched, straining against the ref’s hands to keep at it: fight living up to the hype in a slam-bang first!

 

R2: BRAWL! Vanessa hopping-to, pounds an overhand right against Natalie’s head, straightens that baby out and drifts a tidy across Nat’s mouth. Portman on her heels, covering up, bending at the waist—Marcil misses over top, momentarily swinging herself off balance and giving Natalie room to escape. Marcil’s hopping pursuit relentless—teeth bared, right hand back ready to loop destruction onto Natalie—Portman hard pressed as she’s clubbed and raked along the ropes. Natalie gritting her teeth, staying compact—answering back in spots: champ riding out wide Marcil punches, then digging amidships, finishing up on jug to keep Vanessa from pinning her ears back. Roaring round of all-out punching has crowd delirious—Marcil effectively chastising Natalie all around the ring.

 

R3: Portman getting the jab on track, running Marcil into poke and pre-empting her: sharp Natalie right hands follow from then shoulder to stroke Vanessa’s chin-point. Hooks and crosses off the jab—Natalie fighting her fight, extending beautifully on shots, drilling away on Vanessa’s face. Marcil floundering some—coming forward, but not closing distance—she’s facing into blows and getting scrubbed RAW! Midway point sees Portman establishing icy control, fixing Vanessa’s position, startling her, landing right hand/hook, then stepping away: poor Vanessa’s wobbly butt. Down the stretch, Natalie adding in a vicious little rising hook to Marcil’s solar-plexus: thick, tucking shots as Marcil’s stooping forward behind her mitts. Bell: Vanessa pale, badly shaken, busting up: Portman awarded 10-8 without the knock down for absolute dominance that round.

 

R4: VANESSA STORMS BACK! Marcil refusing to be discouraged by Portman’s class—veteran piles into champ with a full-bodied tackle, comes up forehead and elbows as she SCOURS away with Natalie slumped in the ropes. Ref pulling Vanessa off and scolding her for rough house: Marcil impatiently pushing her way past to get back in Natalie. Van on Nat, at the ropes, bell to bell: just a great, thumping, two-fisted beat down. Portman well0-copvered, laying over on either side, rotating her torso to slip shots, leaning into the ropes ala Carpenter—but Marcil won’t be bamboozled, Constant sheets of Marcil leather raining down—PIK! PAK! PEK! Of small gloves on slender arms, rigid ribs, firm abs, proud jug., Vanessa warned for punching Natalie in her back when it’s available—but clearly not 100% intentional.

 

R5: Pace slowing just a smidge—girls mouthbreathing, eyes locking in tense frowns: both are hurting, hitting respective walls. Both girls so smart—each going to the body thick n’ busy this round—hunkering in close with heads together to dig hooks, tuck in short right hands. Snug punching fitting inside and around protective elbows, breathy little grunts acknowledging form scoring blows. Tough to score round—Vanessa stepping Natalie back fairly consistently, looks the harder customer in the trenches.

 

R6: Back comes Natalie. Portman setting the table with her jab, but champ definitely wants to punch with Vanessa—Portman moving in shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple, the better to shrug home short punches. Marcil’s body getting the worst of it this time—it’s Natalie stepping forward, using her shoulder in Marcil’s chest to be the boss. Vanessa’s mouth open—she’s answering but her work is spottier this round—she’s covering up and waiting her turn more often. Strong Portman punching round: Natalie forcing eye contact at the bell, checking Vanessa’s reserves with hardnosed intuition.

 

R7: Portman back out with the jab to take initiative: she wants I snug with Vanessa, Marcil welcoming Natalie inside, but regretting it: little champ a shrugging, chugging buzzsaw, tucking into Marcil’s midriff both dukes, lathering the ribs, scrubbing the jugs. Vanessa forced into grudging retreat—SHE’S showing some finesse now, buying herself little breathing spots by sidestepping, pushing in either Nat elbow to turn her. Portman really digging up underneath, small gloves seeking out Vanessa’s sternum, ringing it up with gusto. Corner break sees Marcil’s team massaging out her legs with NASCAR desperation, trying to coax the life back in after Natalie’s seeping body work.

 

R8: Vanessa jabs-with, takes initiative and slides on inside, helping herself to hooks as she edges in mouth-on-shoulder. Portman getting nickeled and dimed—giving clubbing shots—Marcil outworking the challenger this round. Vanessa grinding her forehead into Natalie, stepping forward, hooking jug and waistline, then chopping a buggy-whip right Hand to Natalie’s skull—Portman laying in, not answering every shot, Spirited Portman resistance—shoulder-shrugging flurries toe-to-toe—prevent the shutout, but it’s Vanessa’s round close.

 

R9: Good, good Marcil right hands in underneath—she’s keeping the left hand at her temple, crowding in close and carrying that body shot home. Portman grunting, knees buckling slightly—she’s reaching around Vanessa’s elbows to stem the tide challenger bulls her way in. Portman forced to ropes for one of the few times tonight—Vanessa smearing her, keeping a body on when not basting Natalie with punches—good grinding pressure keeping champ from getting off with leverage. Natalie squirming, leaning into the ropes to get room to clout Marcil little swiping hooks and right hands—Vanessa working out of her crouch, pounding Natalie’s flanks, wearing her down. Down the stretch, girls trade hooks to the jaws—Natalie’s rocked—Vanessa hooks her again, drops the right hand and PORETMAN’S HOOK! Marcil electric as she turns it on—poor Natalie drooping forward sleepy., and Vanessa’s just REEFING hooks in behind that right elbow. PORTMAN GOES DOWN! The long slow droop to the canvas—Natalie trembling from rib-rattling body work—Vanessa screeching in exultation as ref pushes her back. Champ beats the count on quivering stems, eyes filling with gut-shot tears at the bell.

 

R10: Vanessa pours in to close the slow…Natalie won’t have. Terribly gut-weary as she is, Portman stands her ground, punches-with…and advances. Marcil groaning as Natalie’s up-curling lefts and rights dig and sticky tacky against firm torso meat—Vanessa reaching to clinch, mouth wide open, legs drawing on final reserves. Portman’s surge carries her well into the second minute—just lifting punches into Marcil, stepping her back: then Vanessa begins to answer. Van showing veteran wiles: she’s walking Portman into tight-clipping, uppercuts, sidestepping to turn the champ and walk her into more cute abuse. Portman outslugged down the stretch, but refusing to back off—she trudges into a beating, knowing she’s probably done enough to carry the round, not wanting to appear weak before the judges. BELL! Comes back one point duke for the winner and NEW flyweight champ—Vanessa Marcil!

 

After: Portman bleak, staring into the middle distance: she’s drained, demoralized, tragically beaten to her body and ego both. Marcil can’t control her tears—she’s finally answered the critics, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to show her quality and coming through in brilliant fashion, Vanessa the first to hug Natalie and offer her genuine consolation girls forehead to forehead amidst the throng, whispering quietly for a moment before Marcil disengages with a final sequence. “Natalie’s devastated,” Vanessa says in postfight, with that queer mix of delight and concern only seen in the FCBA., “but I just had to thank her face to face. I never thought I’d get this opportunity and I’m just so grateful to Natalie for taking the risk most champions wouldn’t have. Nothing against Eva--I owe Longoria SO much for working so hard with me for this fight—but I feel like I’m no longer her handmaiden. I’m the champion now—I’m the center of the flyweight universe and I mean to enjoy every second of it!”

 

Reposted by Archer 6/10/11.

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