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25 August 2006 Kelly Clarkson vs Eliza Dushku

Page history last edited by Archer844 8 years, 1 month ago

Kelly Clarkson.jpgEliza Dushku 12.jpg

 

 

 

Posted by simguy on 8/25/2006, 7:31 am

(Thanks to FightFan for this repost)


Before: "I've about worn out my tapes of Cuthbert/Dushku and Fishel/Dushku," chirps an upbeat Kelly in prefight. "Eliza can be beaten with pressure - those girls proved it, and I will too. I'm not gonna let her do her thing in there - I'm gonna be right in that cheap red swimsuit of hers and being the boss. I'm excited - I want my piece of the Sherrif and I'm gonna take it!" Dushku resting her chin in her hands as she waits out the bubbly tirade - brunette stifling yawns, totally unconcerned - is she taking Kelly too lightly? "CAN you take Kelly too lightly?" Dushku quips at the dais. "I mean, this kid is in way, way over her head - but that's the style these days: every new face is overanxious to get her butt kicked. Look - I know Kelly can bring it - not gonna say I wax her KO1 or anything - but if you think I'd sleep on Carlson to the point where she beats me? You're dumber than she looks." Kelly in punching purple crochet bikini, spunky UGG boxing boots, tan sheepskin mitts. Eliza in red leather bikini, tan knee-length boxing moccasins, tan sheepskin mitts.

During R1: Dushku stepping counterclockwise - prodding Kelly a smart, straight lead right, bringing it back to shoulder, stepping-and-getting it again as Carlson's face bumps back with dry thumps. Kelly walking through it, tossing in her hook wide-n'-lively - Dushku forced to retreat with a frown as Carlson's effervescent punching carries heft. Eliza using her legs, but measured, not frantic - stepping to spots, showing Kelly jabs, hooks and crosses, easing in and out on the blonde - just a comprehensive dose of sweet science to control Clarkson from medium/long ranges at midring in the first.

R2: Dushku creep-stepping right, tilting to her right to exaggerate the distance - but that lead foot IS forward - giving Eliza potential closeness that Kelly doesn't see. Dushku pawing the jab from the right (rear) foot - brushing and tapping, luring Kelly forward. Clarkson commits, wanting to get on top - Eliza shifts weight to left (front) foot, straightening up and twisting into a vicious Shane Mosley hook onna teeth and KELLY SCOOTS TO HER BUTT! Diamond cutter's touch from Eliza - she shows that gunslinger grin as she struts all hips and chest to neutral corner as Clarkson takes a wide-eyed 8. Resume: Eliza methodical, deliberating squaring away to test the kid inside for the first time: Kelly hunching forward mouth on shoulder, getting a two-fisted dose of Sherrif in the gut and ribs. Minute's worth of steady attrition to the body softening Kelly up, loosening her stance - Dushku starts to cash in tidy little uppercuts - lefts off the left foot, rights off the right - AND KELLY GOES DOWN! Clarkson on all fours, shaking her blonde head to clear the ringing sensation. Dushku turns and struts back all smiles to her corner, getting good looks at Kelly and scoring very cleanly through 2.

R3: Kelly strong off her stool, attacking optimistically - Dushku counters with that gorgeous timing hook - stepping in and biting that baby tight to chin to SIT CLARKSON DOWN! Kelly all shook and disappointed, punching at the canvas as she sits up pretty - Clarkson beats the count under Eliza's cool, watchful gaze from neutral corner. Dushku squares away, works the kid at mouth-on-shoulder range, just shrugging and tucking in compact blows, tidying up tummy, ribs and tits with a constant thudding barrage. Kelly open-mouthed - frequently reaching round Eliza's shoulders, but not tieing up - Clarkson needs to punch, but she can't get off, can't catch her breath. Down the stretch, Eliza starts coming off the body with uppercuts again, maliciously dipping-n'-ripping from either side - textbook tight, muscular little chin-tugs in close. Kelly staring, wobbly-butt - she's not used to having her back on the ropes and doesn't like it, but through 3, she doesn't quite know what to do about it.

R4: Dushku circles left, flashing the jab at Kelly's available face: Clarkson just taking too many punches, too cleanly, not moving her head nearly enough. Minute mark - Dushku up on her toes, sensing the moment - once again she times Kelly trying to get brave, stepping in and ripping that tidiest of hooks to chin, sprawling Clarkson into ropes in shock. Kelly keeps her feet this time, but she's temporarily unable to get off: Eliza squares away, snuggles into position on Clarkson's chest and digs at trembling tum, jumping jug, glossy flanks with patient, tucking attrition. Beating Kelly's body numb, loosening her legs - Eliza goes back to those withering, short-jerking uppercuts - diligently working at Kelly's guard to split the mitts and find the chin. Kelly's repeatedly picked up - knees locked as she sways back into ropes, then droops forward in confusion. Bell: Kelly in swoon, still covered up at her temples, tilted forward as Dushku barks laughter, dropping her hands to her sides, brushing her breasts insolently across the front of her foe's shaky guard before turning away.

R5: Kelly's busting up, getting discouraged - the ol' "try hard" plan just isn't getting it done. Eliza covers the ring, jabs into Kelly's guard, helps herself to a healthy chunk of gut via the hook, steps right to appreciate the effects - and eats a HUGE left hook from Clarkson! ELIZA GETS DROPPED! Dushku smiling in satisfaction one heartbeat - sprawled on her back in astonishment the next - Clarkson looming over top, bellowing down - dishevelled blonde curls in her face as she shrieks, prompting ref to push her back. Eliza staring in amazement as she takes a creaky 8 at the ropes, then TEARS into Kelly as Clarkson hopes to mop up on the apron. Hammer and tongs trading - Eliza beating Kelly to brisk lefts and rights with that compact, uncanny delivery - CLARKSON'S HURT! Kelly backpedalling, taking ugly, awkard swings that only make her available to Dushku's pinpoint lefts and rights up the middle: Dushku going right up the gut, backing her girl up the full length of ring. Crowd roaring as girls gallop to final minute - Clarkson firming at the hated touch of rope across her back, leaning forward and DIGGING to Dushku's pale body as the girls form a slugging arch. OH THE HUMANITY! Torrid two way busting - both women lifting savage rights and lefts up into offending lungs and tummies. AND KELLY'S BACKING ELIZA UP! Dushku taking her first involuntary steps back as she's outworked - Kelly descending into a berserker rage - curls in her eyes, lips curled back - Dushku finally disengaging completely, choosing to leg out the rest of the round rather than indulge any more ego toe-to-toe. Clarkson emboldened - shrieking at Eliza after the bell, waving her in defiantly: Kelly takes her first round, celebrating like she's just won the bantamweight championship.

 

R6: Kelly coming forward, pressuring Eliza - Dushku stepping to her right, leaning to her right, weight on her right foot in an effort to lengthen and shock-absorb. Kelly missing a good deal - but the odd right hand clangs off Eliza's scalp, the odd hook thumps off shoulder or claws across jug as she's sliding away. Eliza trying to re-establish distance, wanting to work behind her jab - but Kelly's winning her way through - swinging gleefully at all things Eliza for more points. Clarkson wildly entertaining at the break - pumping her fists, throwing her head back and baying at the crowd - strutting and jiggling around before taking her seat: kid couldn't be more excited to be getting the better of Dushku in the sixth.

R7: Eliza spends the first minute deflecting and turning Kelly - but Clarkson POURING herself at Dushku eventually forcing face-on-face confrontations. Kelly a little buzzsaw when she can set up on Eliza's chest - not every punch a thing of beauty, but she's putting so much sheepskin on meat, it's hard for Dushku to organize. Eliza forced to give away her technical superiority in senseless brawls just to get breathing room - Dushku trading feverishly for enough room to spin off the ropes and circle until Kelly can drive the fight to ropes again. Through 7, Kelly's enthusiasm infectious, clearly swaying the crowd. Dushku now lumping, looking dishevelled, rumpled, tossed - she's positively sullen on her stool, smouldering with rage and embarrassment. During the break, a disgusted Claire Danes pokes her head through the ropes and gives Eliza hell: "You are CHOKING! Don't even THINK about losing this fight - you hear me? You get your head out of your ass, get perky, and beat this bytch down Eliza. I expect to be mounting Kelly in a few short minutes - MAKE IT HAPPEN!" Dushku just glaring forward, not looking at the blonde, knowing she's right and hating it.

R8: OH WHAT A HOOK! Eliza Dushku on her toes, daring the teeth of Kelly's punching to step in, plant weight on front (left) foot, and bite that tight, steering little stroke onto singer's chin-tip - gorgeous rip sends Kelly reeling to ropes, desperately hurt all over again. Eliza hard-eyed as she wades in, squares away and goes at Kelly's ribcage with thudding, robust rights and lefts - freeswinging pumps with 100% Sherrif behind every bump but KELLY WON'T HAVE IT! Soaking up a tremendous beating - little Kelly Clarkson firms...and ANSWERS! Belting Eliza carefree rights and lefts to skull and chin to back brunette up step by grudging step. Crowd roaring in support of the Idol and ELIZA WON'T HAVE IT! Dushku finally finding HER own inner-berserker goes mindless, baring her teeth to simply lash her arms up and in on her foe hup-hup-hup. Clarkson beaten back by the torso-thumping thrashing - she finally covers up mute, bending forward as an enraged Dushku plows a series of hateful right hands into Kelly's flank SNUG behind the elbow. Bell: Clarkson comes up out of her crouch teary-eyed and trembling - Dushku snarling, looking enough like she wants a little extra that a wary official edges in between humming vixens.

R9: KELLY PANCAKES ELIZA IN THE HISC CORNER! Brazen onslaught sloppy, but thrilling as Clarkson swarms atop her foe, mugging and slugging in haphazard fashion. Once again, Dushku forced to simply punch - just moving her hands, willing Kelly backwards. Toe-to-toe, Eliza works hard to slowly take the play away, trading almost non-stop just to fight her way to midring - then the class takes over. Final minute - Dushku able to sidestep around the jab, turning either Clarkson flank: poor Kelly all busted up, eyes swelling shut, head banging back from buffing sheepskin impact - she doesn't have the legs left to collapse distance all over again as Eliza sharpshoots to the bell.

R10: POOR KELLY'S HURT AGAIN! Eliza getting that wicked little timing hook in - standing up into Clarkson's chin with hips, shoulders turning into the shot - Kelly sent reeling to ropes in terrible trouble. Dushku in, merciless to the body of her foe - thick, reefing rights and lefts swung as hard as Eliza's ever hit another woman to the midsection - Clarkson in stupor, butt in ropes as she folds forward sobbing in shock. Fury slows - Eliza's crippled Kelly, backs off just a smidge to regroup: patient, methodical Dushku takes over from the half way mark. Kelly a battered wreck - hands up but loose, no longer blocking anything; knees locked, keeping her upright. Dushku muscular, compact - right hand at her chin, left at her waist as she continually bumps and nudges Kelly left shoulders to reset her for rhythmic, swiping hooks, chopping straight rights, and nifty little uppercuts-of-opportunity. Kelly beaten senseless, mouthpiece long-since hooked off her teeth, hair tangled across her eyes, lips parted - she's just standing in there, too damn proud to give Eliza satisfaction. Dushku stays at it - punching and working, but never overextending - she gives Kelly a terrible, terrible beating to the bell. Tenth is scored an emphatic shutout for Eliza, fight itself goes UD10 Dushku as Sherrif puts down the Clarkson riot.

After: Bit of a midrounds jailbreak as Kelly proved a scrapper when most had written her off - but Eliza too hard tonight, too meanspirited, too willful herself to be denied. Wolfpack vixens circling menacingly - Kelly terribly vulnerable in the wake of a monster beating tonight, but earning enough respect with her efforts to keep the pack at bay. "They call this kid Dani-Lite," Eliza says, dabbing at her lower lip with a white towel, "but I've never seen Fishel punch with that kind of passion. If Kelly had Dani's bulk, she'd be world champion - but then again - she doesn't, so I guess she's just another loser. She's scrappy - I'll give her that. She didn't quit when Fishel or Spears would have punked their way out of the fight and she's got more heart than Jennifer Connelly ever dreamed of having, but she's limited and it's going to get her hurt. Kelly Clarkson's the kind of girl the ref's need to keep a close eye on - she's too determined for her own good and way too determined for her skills to back up."



simguy



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