Unified Welterweight Title

Posted by Simguy on 2/11/2006, 9:35 am.

Before: “I have a lot of respect for Estella Warren,” tongue-in-cheek Ryan sniggers in prefight. “When I saw her claw her way up from the canvas to give Jennifer Garner all she could want—I knew Estella Warren was the challenger I’ve been looking missing at welter. She’s as strong-bodied a model as I’ve ever seen—obviously superior to Tyra--stretching Estella out is going to be a special thrill for me.” Warren scalded by meanspirited whisper campaign amongst her FCBA peers—“Good in the gym,” “Big-fight hinky” and the dreaded “Soft” a sampling of the kind of labels she’s been given. “I view this fight as redemption,” a somber Estella affirms. “Jeri loves to mock,  but she’s making a big mistake, giving me this chance to make good all my losses I feel like I’m up against the whole FCBA—my back’s to the wall: I’m going to give Jeri the fight if my life and the beating of hers. Mark my words.” Jeri in red bikini—Warren in black.

During R1: Warren loping the perimeter, looking to exploit Jeri’s feet—Ryan stalking, shuffling flat footed, locating her girl with the jab, right hand coiled at the shoulder. Jeri making the fight—Warren denying contact--Ryan takes points by default in a feeling out first.

R2: Estella unpacks her jab—twisting the punch from her cheek to Jeri’s mouth stepping left while bringing the mitt back to cheek with crisp precision. Warren’s eyes wide with concentration—she’s busy with that left hand, stepping smartly clockwise, keeping Ryan from getting off, Jeri stalking, pawing her own jab, trying to time that right hand over Warren’s stick—Estella do0ing a nice job of breaking u the rhythm, sticks and moves to even up the cards.

R3: Jeri pressing harder, stepping in and jabbing Estella to body—champ doing a better job of cutting off the ring this round as Warren bounces into ropes, showing earmuff in spots. Ryan encroaching, set very strong on her feet, forehead rubbing Warren’s champ tidying up with thick, stroking shellack against the waist: big strapping lefts and rights designed to wear out the Warren legs, Estella sitting in the ropes, grinding her forehead against Jeri’s—Warren’s blasting back wide—licking at Ryan’s flanks, tightening up stroke to get uppercuts—crowd roaring as long limbed lasses lick away with torrid work toe-to-toe. Right uppercut Ryan short n’ sudden; clubbing right on the cheek and WARREN STUMBLES DOWN! Estella blinking on one knee—ref shoving Ryan back before she can label her defenseless foe an extra clubbing right. Estella trembling, but serviceable—she nods clear-eyed as ref rubs off her gloves, takes a strong step off the ropes to receive Jeri’s charge. Ryan on with a stiff jab, probing Warren’s high guard—champ shifting a smidge to her left off the poke. Ryan pokes righty up into the air—like she’s jotting her fist at the moon--then she brings it back to her temple while crouching slightly to her left. THEN she chops straight righty to the right side of Warren’s jaw and DROPS ESTELLA TO HER BACK! Jeri breaking into a sexy grin as she struts away—artful one punch shock lands awkwardly, unexpectedly—Warren shaking her curly head as she pulls herself hand-over-hand up the ropes to evade the stoppage at the bell.

R4: Garner leaning forward in her seat, fingers steepled at her lips; HISC suits similarly tense: this is an important round in the career of Estella Warren. Shocked and  dropped last round, Warren pulls herself together, gets on her bicycle to clear her head. Leggy, loping stuff—Warren feinting; getting low to ease her shoulder into Jeri’s hips as Ryan rushes in, bumping the champ back; Warren clinching, easing herself into the ropes while clutching Ryan tightly to her chest. Jeri takes the points, but can’t land anything substantial—frustrated by lanky model survival instincts.

R5: Similar stuff—Estella exposing Jeri’s feet a little with the rangy ring roaming—Ryan fuming, chasing, but not bringing battle to her foe the way she’d like. Warren ignoring the boos—sure, the crowd wants her to stand and slug with Jeri—but Estella’s getting herself together, re-establishing distance, getting some things she needs to rally over the second half.

R6: Estella standing her ground more—stepping to spots, jabbing Jeri to channel the champ into right hands. Ryan back to pawing her jab, looking for one glorious right hand, but Warren cleverly rotating to her right, shying away from Jeri’s power, Estella sharp, extending on shots—her jab is spanking Jeri’s face with authority and ringing right hands are beginning to land to chin. Late the round--Estella doubles up her jab, drops the right cross and visibly buckles Jeri’s knees. Ryan covering up, stooping forward earmuff: Warren treats herself to flank, hooking Jeri lanky behind her right elbow with a pair of thick, patting left hands at the bell. Estella glowing, bumping shoulders with Jeri HARD as girls pass en route tri corners. Feisty!

R7: Jeri scowling, lumping up, looking a little fatigued. Estella: up on her toes, sharp-eyed, crisp-mitted. Jab pulsing AGAINST Jeri’s face, pounding in over the tops of her gloves to sank against brow, Warren slinking to her right, leaning into right hands: she’s got a can’t-miss angle over Jeri’s left hand and shoulder, finding chin with alarming regularity. Ryan trudging through it, taking Warren’s punch well, but champ now bveing palpably handled, schmoozed, negotiated as Estella steps and licks midring.

R8: Estella the fresher-legged beauty, flashing the odd smile, eyes lighting up when she lands right hands—she’s really outworking Jeri, discouraging the older woman.. Ryan late getting into positions—Estella’s feet posing more problems than expected and champ hasn’t done enough to take Warrens legs out of the equation. Estella’s piercing jab drawing blood from Jeri’s nose this round, putting an angry pouch under Jeri’s left eye—long, strong poke as Warren owns the gap between the fighters, Late the round, E just stepping, getting off—tart one-two bangs into Jeri’s jaw, rechecking her knees: Ryan buckling, covering up gives away her ribs. Warren off her front foot, dipping, licking lanky hup-hup-hup an exquisite three-hook pattern in behind Jeri’s elbow as champ leans forward to sponge.

R9: Estella greedily jabbing to Jeri’s jugs—it’s a mistake as Ryan’s finally able to drop right hand over stick to bring Warren to heel. Girls grinding foreheads—Jeri able to strap some thick rights and lefts wide to the waist while leaning in pressing Warren to ropes again. Warren slugging back butt-in-ropes, legs spread wide, pulling punches into Jeri’s flanks with lanky lick inside. Bell: Jeri won’t let up. Piling on extra rib work until ref physically heaves her off.

R10: Warren on her toes, double-pumping that jab, rotating right: it’s a Jeri-beating recipe and both girls know it. Ryan grim trudging, facing into stick—Warren really working over that left eye now with poke after heartless poke. Ryan chin sturdy proof against Warren’s right—Estella dropping it with accuracy, but not full commitment as she’s always trying to pull out and away from Ryan receipts, Warren cheeky, walking Ryan into swishing, scrubbing lefts and right to jug, then swiveling away from a blushing champion—saucy stuff clearly rattling the champ’s composure as she can’t prevent Estella’s insolent incursions. Bell—Estella lifting her mitts, happy to have gone the route: UJD10 Ryan doesn’t discourage Warren in the least.

After:  5 Rounds a piece—Ryan’s two knock-downs third holds up as the difference, but there’s some vindication here for the much-maligned Warren. “I feel good,” an upbeat Estella smiles, “I feel like this is the fight I wanted to give Jen, and I thought I gave Jeri all she could handle. Part of the reason Ryan moved up to welter was because she’s obviously lost a step, but I’ve got lightweight footspeed and I knew I could…”

WARREN GOES DOWN! Behind her, a seething Kelly Brook (Pale blue silk blouse, tight navy slacks) holds one of the heavy gold championship belts, fresh off the honky-tonk cold-cocking of the back of Warren’s head. Ryan pushing her way in, nostrils flaring—even Ali Landry (white blouse, tight forest green slacks) moving in as poor Warren trembles on all fours, trying to rally off the mat. OH NO: IT’S A HEINOUS SAMDOG TRIPLE TEAM!

OH, they just SLOSH the jug to poor Estella Warren First Jeri stoops to hug Warren up to her feet, folding the dazed blonde into the reverse sleeper while backing into the ropes for support. Brook and Landry kick off their shoes, tear their blouses, popping buttons free to reveal hot pink lace push up (Brook), breathtaking baby blue push up (Landry) as each waits her turn, hands on hips, bellies quivering with anticipation.

Warren: eyelashes fluttering, facer pasty and moist, lips parted—she’s just passed around, pressed face-first to relentless sweater meat, released juuuust at the point of collapse, Warren allowed to crawl—the three Samdog vixen just stalking her patiently—sometimes they’ll have her prone on the canvas, curling legs around Estella’s waist to hold her in position—other times they’ll stand the shabby blonde up to reset her.

Jeri clutches Estella by the hair at the back of the head with the right hand—left hand patting flat against the massive swell of Brook’s cleavage before jamming Warren’s drowsy face back into the baked-bread goodness of British jug. Landry lifts her hands high to signify “TOUCHDOWN!” as Brook clinches up, lips tight with effort.

Landry’s blouse open and loose about her hips as she cinches up tight—her left arm snug behind Estella’s head, clutching the right bicep: the right hand cupped atop Warren’s sweat-soaked scalp, Ali with her trademark little twitches and shifts constantly looking to maximize the squeeze. Warren frets, hands fluttering, legs trembling, awkwardly stumbling as Ali muscles her around.

Poor Warren sitting in a juggy fog with women standing strong all around her; Estella’s left hand on her forehead, right palm on canvas for support. Warren on her back as Jeri pushes up off her, only to allow Landry to snuggle in on top. Warren blubbering, helpless on her back, slipping in and out of consciousness—never aware of her surroundings as she’s allowed to climb  ropes or gather herself for more abuse. Samdog women purposeful, methodical—they’re taking their time: pulling Estella heavily up by her hair or hugging her to her feet; managing the slack, sweaty weight of Estella; constantly AT her with jugs, hands, greedy arms.

Finally, Warren allowed to sprawl on her back, hair strewn across canvas; pale clammy face quiet in KO’d repose’ arms limp to either side, above her head. The heavy, buxom weight of the Samdog women as they stand around leering and laughing: another HISC vixen jugged senseless, Ali mocking Estella by making a beddy-bye gesture with hands together at her cheek. Jeri smoldering with satisfaction, right hand massaging her neck as she looks down. Brook hands on hips, laughing.  Outraged FCBA high commission hauls all three marauders into a special hearing in days to follow—Samdog expected to suffer heavy fines as a result of this atrocious post-fight romp.

Reposted by Archer