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3 November 2005 Kelly Packard vs Natalie Portman

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

Prologue

 

(Posted by Simguy on 10/31/23005, 7:36 am)

 

From a recent Vanessa Marcil press release:

 

Vanessa Marcil 03.jpg

 

…open invitation I propose the following, you Kelly Packard, and you Natalie Portman fight for the privilege of facing me for the Unified Flyweight Title. I want you both poolside, at a location of my choosing, fighting on your own dimes. I’ll provide the ring—you bring your best games—winner takes all—loser slinks away to lick her wounds.

 

You both deserve a shot—I’ve bested you both by close margins and I want to cement my hold on the titles by defeating the most worthy one of you. You know this makes sense: to need hard sparring anyway and this is a great opportunity to get the necessary work in.

 

It’s a short notice—I want to see which one you can adapt and thrive under hot pressure. Take it or leave it, ladies: it’s a crowded division and many women are willing to do whatever it take for a chance at belts. My representatives will be contacting you shortly for your answer…

 

(Ed. note to Aristide and Phoenix: So it’s a semi-private affair--a little out of the ordinary, a little more intimate than usual. I’ll actually post the fight  Wednesday or so this week to determine a title matchup for the next PPV. Try to respond yay or nay soon if you can. No obligation of course—I realize this is a high risk proposition and both your girls probably deserve better—but’s also a high intensity match up that rarely comes around. And the reward is sufficient to ay least consider the risk, I should think).

 

Kelly Packard 3.jpgNatalie Portman 11.jpg

 

 

Private Bout: Marcil’s Place

 

Posted by Simguy on 11/3/7:25 am.

 

The Marcil fighting time-share hacienda in Miami white art-deco curves and cylinders, long windows, ocean view. Shallow fighting/wading pools have become all the rage and this hacienda has a nice one—the cool blue curves of it serving as fighting arena, landscaping feature and recreational area. Stylish boxing platform/ropes has been erected in the pool: people can float around on white pool-chairs, bask in the sun and watch the fun, but on this occasion, there’s only one occupant, Vanessa Marcil in black one piece with cut-out lozenge middle and large circular dark sunglasses sips Margueritas while her guests get organized.

 

Kelly’s already in the ring, stretching out, securing her ponytail, dressed in lavender sport bikini with bra strap support,. Small black workout gloves—2 pair—lay carelessly in one corner, awaiting service.

 

Natalie Portman arrives in yellow fleece hoodie and sweats, carrying a gym bag over one shoulder. “You’re late,” Vanessa chirps without looking up from the pool. “get changed.”

 

Portman disappears into a nearby cabana and emerges in sturdy bandeau bikini. Stepping into the shallow pool she stoops, splashes water on herself, dunks her head and smooths short brown hair back. She sloshes to the boxing platform, stepping lithely onto it and sliding in between the ropes, Kelly regards Natalie without expression, hut stops stretching to put on a pair of gloves.

“Where’s the ref?” Natalie asks, looking out at Vanessa.

 

“You’re looking at her,” Marcil grins, sipping a long straw playfully, “honor system: don’t cheat girls. Seriously. Don’t make me get in there.”

 

Natalie shrugs—whatever. She gloves up. Walks overt to Kelly and swats left hands with her. Girls leg it out, circle back to midring and proceed as Vanessa hits her stopwatch.

 

During R1: Spicy feeling out=--girls doubling up jabs, right hands right to cheeks, good bobbing head moves, economical swing-pivots left. Natalie doing more off the stick—hooking Kelly’s tanned ribs, dropping short-right hands up the middle. Packard slipping shots, not getting caught flush, but she’s outworked down the stretch. Vanessa shouts out “Tuime!” and girls separate like professionals—just like they would in the gym.

 

R2: Kelly jabs to Natalie’s body. Hooks to her ear, starts maneuvering Portman about. Packard now dropping in that sleek, sneaky bantam-killing right hand, but Portman’s got it scouted, slipping in under and answering back a “Hi there” hook in the ribs. Crisp professional deportment: girls weaving in and out, dukes at cheeks or brows, bending at waists. Marcil unimpressed, lets her guests hear it during the break: “More work ladies, less dancing! Right now, Jennifer Love Hewitt looks hungrier than either of you!”

 

R3: Portman hooking off her jab, takes the initiative: she’s turning Kelly’s right flank midring. Natalie bending in with short rights: Kelly down and to her left, but Portman’s collecting ribcage with snappy left-hook comebacks. Down the stretch, Natalie closes, fights chest to chest: she’s using her left to wrap up Kelly’s left, then digging blonde midsection and ribs the free right. Packard grunting, standing in there and straining against Natalie—nice writhing, pushing, punching action as Portman forces Kelly to ropes and beats her up just a smidge., More to Vanessa’s liking: “Atta girl Nat! Kelly: pick up the pace!”

 

R4: Portman closing behind a spitting jab, then fighting chest to chest—dutifully digging at Kelly’s lean torso, tucking in rights and lefts as she pulls Kelly forward with the off-hand. Packard tugged and being jostled off balance—she came in ostensibly the big girl and she’s getting bullied by these tactics. Stuttering, stomping stuff as Natalie outworks Kelly inside the clinches—brunette tidying up blonde ribs nicely. Down the stretch, Kelly uses small left glove to take firm hold of Natalie’s bandeau, ref her hand forward, then spinning her ‘round—Portman tempest tossed and she’s CLOUTED a cheap right cross on the chin! NATTIE P’S HURT! Kelly still holding bandeau, drifts away righty—poor Portman trying to cover up but she’s getting pounded to the ropes, Nat desperately clinching, reaching in around Kelly’s hips: Packard leaning forward, gets her hips back and digs outside Nat’s outstretched arms to clap wetly at the ribs/back. Fighting takes place right above Vanessa—Kelly still punching AFTER Marcil yells “Time!”=--Vanessa shouting “Hey! Hey! Hey! Break it up.” Hard glares exchanged in the ring: Portman, arching her back painfully during the break.

 

R5: Midring—girl lean in mouth on shoulder—slender shoulders pumping, arms chugging, shrugging in harm amidships and IT’S ALL PORTMAN! Kelly working hard, but hitting elbows and hips—Nattie’s got the inside track, tearing up the Packard midsection, tanning those ribs, clouting those jugs, Kelly stepped back to the ropes under intense hup-hup punching—she starts to cave in, cover up, grimacing as Natalie stays on her. Portman keeping her left shoulder on Kelly to jostle and push, then scrubbing her mitts—her forehead on Kelly’s left shoulder, never leaving its perch on the slugging flows. Packard suffering, occasionally trying to push Natalie behind the elbow and spin off the ropes, but Portman bodying in, stacking up, won’t be cozened, Bell to bell hard work—Natalie taking it out of Kelly’s midsection. Marcil grinning as real damage is starting to accrue through 5.

 

R6: Kelly returns the favour., Packard backs Natalie to her own corner under ferocious pressure—blonde punches bip-bap=-bopping away against tummy, arms, jug as Nattie gets outworked. As strong as Portman was fighting off Kelly’s chest last round, Packard’s stronger—beating Natalie lavishly, extravagantly at times, Packard looming over crouched Natalie and smiting her back vicious hammer blows. Packard bumping and fitting hard right uppercuts into Nat’s sternum, or clipping her chin sweet between the mitts. Portman glum, taking—she can’t get her butt off turnbuckles as Kelly romps bell to bell. At the break—Kelly smoldering with satisfaction, gives Natalie an extra shoulder—Portman sullen—shoving Kelly in the back as she stalks off—“Hey! Hey!” from unconcerned Marcil—she’s enjoying the mayhem. Girls sucking water bottles in respective corners, holding enswell irons to bruised and sore cheek bones and brows. Both beauties staring resentfully into the other corner, trying to gauge hurt, wondering how much the other girl’s got left.

 

R7: Hardscrabble, uncompromising fighting—girls stepping smartly to position, standing flay footed and working hard to put combinations together. Brisk  PIK! PAK! PEK! Of small gloves on shiny, firm bodies as girls take turns getting off. Portman’s a little busier, a little bossier, a little more accurate—she’s winning most of the exchanges, she’s harder nosed toe-to-toe. Kelly stepping out a times, showing signs of confusion: she’s missing her right hand, getting frustrated as a result.

 

R8: Kelly with a strong first minute, dipping and digging either hand firm to Natalie’s waistline—brunette backing up grunting, but eventually stands her ground near the ropes. Portman digging back hooks—right hand tight to her cheek—Nattie goes body, body, chin and PACKARD’S HURT! Kelly astonished, staggering back oin her heels wobbly butt—deep breath Portman as she strides forward, looping an ovcer hand right to Kelly’s left eye and jerking her a quarter turn to her right. Blonde stampeded off balance to far ropes—Natalie pinning her ears back, looking to excuse Kel, but Packard composed under pressure. Kelly butt-in-ropes, earmuffing up—she gets low, leans back, turns her shoulders—giving Natalie plenty of slip n’ roll to think about. Portman smart—cleaning up on Kelly’s body as Packard’s head movement still too goof. Round finishes up with Natalie working out of the wrap, cradling Kelly in the left arm while plugging right hands up underneath, Packard up on her toes, stooped forward with a cramped expression: she’s hurting through 8.

 

R9: Kelly looking to box, girls fence jabs—Portman’s already scuffed up, Kelly’s left eye with hard right hands, now she goes to work on it with that spiteful, magpie-beak left jab. Kelly scowling, circling clockwise with Natalie—blonde can’t get out of the way that meanspirited brunette pokew—Nataloie able to diligently peck away and close Kelly’s left eye in a vicious 9th. Packard sullen in her corner, now no longer looking across the ring: she’s facing her own turnbuckles. Holding the enswell against her eye, shoulders slumping.

 

R10: Portman frowning with concentration, stepping and poking outside—hardhearted decision making to stay on the left eye, knowing that Kelly can’t see the punches now. Tap-tap-tap with that jab, then CRACK, Natalie right hand bites wetly on Packard’s eye, Kelly brave, hanging in there—she’s boxing back behind her own jab, but she’s off-rhythm, missing her right hands and catching clean left-hook receipts on her mouth as she pulls back. Natalie cleans it clean, outboxing Kelly decisively and piling up touches—when Vanessa shouts “Time!”  girls separate, chests heaving.

 

After: Girls remove gloves, uncertain of what to do, standing in the ring in close proximity: sun shines hot overhead; fountain in the distance the only sound. Natalie suddenly takes charge—grabbing Kelly by her right elbow and pulling her forward, guiding her to the ropes and through them to the pool. Natalie pushing Kelly’s shoulder from her like a captive soldier’s—Packard sullen, sloshing through the water to a floating, grinning Marcil., Both women are shiny with hurt, all scuffed and dinged: both wait for Vanessa’s decision. “Kelly: thanks for coming,” Marcil says sincerely. “She beat your ass anmd you know it.”  Packard crimps her limps, shakes her head slightly. Vanessa gestires with her head. “Beat it Ke;l—you’re done here.” A fonal glare at Marcil, then at Portman, then Kelly swishes all hips through the water to slouch off into the hacienda.

 

“Got some paperwork to do, Nat,” says Marcil, sipping her Marguerita, “Congratulations.”

 

Portman shakes her head with mild disgust, “Let’s get thois over with,” she says.

 

Reposted by Archer 6/11/13.

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