Posted by Simguy on 8/20/2005, 9:46 am.

Before: Nat giving in to revenge impulse: it’s been the doom of many a fighting celeb in the past. “I realize Rachael Leigh’s just a bump in the road and I shouldn’t fixate on her,” Portman admits, “but it’s not right that she has a win over me. it’s like an unmade bed or untied shoelace--I just feel this is a chore I need to see to before moving on to bigger and better things.” Cook blushing as though physically slapped in the face by Portman’s dismissive, even haughty commentary. “Precious Portman is so smug, I just want to smash her face in,” Rachael quivers at the dais, “Seriously, where does she get off? I beat her UP the last time we fought and it was EASY. I’m better than Natalie--if she doesn’t understand that from our last fight, I’m just going to have to pound it into that stupid peach-fuzz skull of hers!” Portman in navy bandeau battle bikini, sturdy-bottomed, tan sheepskin boxing mittens--Rachael in her tawdry baby blue cashmere two piece, cashmere boxing mittens she negotiated into the fight due to Portman’s desire to “get the deal done.”

During R1: Rachael borrowing the Mish Williams playbook in a wild, romping first.; Cook tackling Nat full on shoulder-in-the-breadbasket, sprawling both women to canvas--getting to knees, Rache grabs available bandeau to tug Natalie into some tight-clipping right hands before ref takes a hand. Swinging, pell-mell slugging into trunks and tummy drives Portman to ropes--she brawls back bitterly, lips curled back--rubbing her shaved pate brutally across Rachael’s cheeks to back her up. Hurt by Natalie’s billy-goat routine--Cook responds with a sliding side headlock, holding Nat steady for some cheap right hands ala Apartment action--ref once again breaks’em up, reads ‘em the riot act while holding both girls by their elbows. Girls immediately embrace and tumble into ropes, flapping punches at each other’s back in the clinch. Rache gets control at the ropes with a crude forearm under Natalie’s chin, regains that tugging grip on bandeau top and turns into a few more short, tidy right hands on the face as Portman’s momentarily bewildered, More ref--more scolding--more heaving chests and hateful eyes as neither girls looks ready to fight Queensbury rules just yet.

R2; Natalie solves the brawler the nearest way: short, shearing, intercepting right hand catches cook coming in, sending her reeling back out with a bytch-slapped expression. Nat gets on Cook with the jab--harsh, relentless, cruel--pounding away on Rachael’s left eye as Cook tries to regroup. Natalie’s fight--she’s stepping smartly in either direction, feinting, stabbing stick, patiently lumping up the left side of Cook’s face as professional control replaces chaos in the second.

R3: Nat systematic: she’s got tactical air superiority via the jab, now she can step into Rachael’s midsection with hooks whenever she likes. Cook’s hands high to fend off poke--her little ribs and quivering tummy are there for the taking. Portman in and out, nice nifty moves--not real busy with the right hand, but dropping it occasionally, trying to fit it just so to Rachael’s chin. Cook effective late as she lowers her head and wades in over hand rights and lefts--Portman on the defensive as she gives ground at the bell.

R4: Natalie’s jab becoming decisive--she’s playing whack-a-mole with Rachael’s beautiful face. Cook grimacing, hands up, trying to parry, but that clever educated Portman left hand is scoring, Nat getting hooks off the jab and an increasingly hurtful shearing right hand over the top--everything going Portman’s way as poor Rachaels offense sputters.

R5: Natalie hooking the bejesus out of Cook’s rightside ribs and waist, keeping the right hand nice and high as she digs ‘em in. Cook giving way with a sour expression, breathy groan--she’s fighting off the ropes, hands up, palms out, Straight, drilling shots Portman--she’s pounding the right hand between Rachael’s mitts, slanting the jab down into body like a power punch. Portman maintaining range, not smothering herself on Rache. The few times cook manages to clinch, Natalie discourages the practice with rough pate scrubbing--Cook complaining bitterly to the ref about Portman’s rugged forehead.
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R6: Cook fighting hard in stretches, basically waiting for toe-to-toe trading opportunities--Natalie’s feet, stick, ring generalship prevailing for the most part. Portman composed, eyes bright and thoughtful, fists quick and decisive--she’s working up and down, slanting in straight shots for the most part, occasionally edging in with her left hip to get leverage in short biting hooks off the front foot. Bell: Cook’s corner telling her to get back to roughing Natalie up as Portman’s winning big through 6.

R7: Nat turns Rachael a stunning, sheepskin-thudding flurry to the body, leaving Cook breathless, stopped: sweet chopping right hand, so tightly thrown Nat finishes up with her shoulder against Rachael’s cheek DROPS COOK TO HER HEINIE! Rache distraught, achy-painy as she gets off her hip for a groggy 8. ON COMES NAT! Portman flick-flick-flicking the set up jab, then bending in with another drifting right on the chin--sheepskin thumps, skids off bone and drapes Cook glassy-eyed in the ropes. BARRAGE OF BUMP TO THE GUT! Natalie huffing and puffing, sheepskin mitts wilts to all fours under the churning bombardment, Rache up at 8, reeling, ashen-faced at the ropes: NAT POUR ON! BOOMING right hand lights cook up--she drapes against the ropes, dropping forward, hands out wider to either side. Nat edging in close, cleans up with swish-swish tight lefts and rights to cashmered jugs, bumping Rache upright, head a-bobbling. Nat just in there digging, getting low to jerk up into the body, standing up into short-arm hooks, tidying up rack and chin, Little Cook keeps her feet, makes it to the bell, but she’s ALL messed up!

R8: Nat a little arm weary, backs off to work it midring, spearing Rache the jab, applying the finishing touches to that puffy, weepy left eye. Rache taking dull, knocking, sheepskin thud against her skull--she’s dismantled, disorganized, but still winging back on occasion,. Cook able to get Natalie in a headlock and punch at her face again to draw more warnings--badly frazzled brunette busing the lecture as an opportunity to catch her breath.

R9: Rache falling in, clinching, headlocking, face-punching: ref gets involved. Rache tugging at Natalie’s bandeau top, hauling her off balance, slugging her short and sweet bright hands on the mouth: ref gets involved. Squirming embrace ends with Cook coming uo behind Portman--Rache grabs trunks, scrubs away a series of washerwoman cashmere fists and forearms to lower back, drawing cries of outrage from Nat, more lectures from ref. Natalie loses her temper, butting Rachael viciously in her left cheek: Cook turns away wailing in pain, dramatizing the infraction for ref’s benefit: Natalie gets a firm scolding. Stop and go stuff as girls get sloppy, unprofessional--Cook able to claw out murky, ugly points as Portman momentarily loses focus.

R10: Natalie chagrined in her corner, reminded that discipline trumps ferocity every time,. She comes out working the jab, stepping left--simple routine, bur all she needs to bring to Cook to heel. With control come the various punches--hooks, crosses and especially vindictive little left uppercut off the front foot that’s not doing Rachael any good at all. Cook on her  heels, outclassed and now dispirited--she takes a thrashing bell to bell as Portman closes the show. UD10 wide, Natalie Portman.

After: Still at it after the bell--Cook with her left hand in Natalie’s bandeau, Natalie grabbing Cook’s wrist and both girls screeching at each other--takes several grown men to untangle tempestuous petites. Portman vindicated, taking 8 rounds, many of them shutouts, and flooring Rachael twice--but perfectionist BSEr isn’t satisfied. “I’m disappointed,” Natalie says shaking her head. “I should have finished her, should have stopped her. See everyone knows I kicked her ass tonight, but she’ll be all ‘Natalie can’t punch, Natalie couldn’t hurt me’, just because she SURVIVED tonight. That’s the problem with girls like Cook--they go the distance and it’s a big deal for them.”

Reposted by Archer 5/8/11.