Before: Christmas fights at the L.A. Ritz have been an inside Hollywood tradition for as long as there has been a Tinseltown, and for a time, Loni Anderson was the featured attraction of this annual affair. Her brassy, statuesque look fit in perfectly with the black tie, crystal chandelier event, and she typically rose to the occasion in the early part of the eighties with stunning victories over well regarded opposition. With Victoria Principal pulling out of the festivities only three weeks prior to the Dec 24/’83 date, the hunt was on for a warm body, someone eager to take a beating from the recognized winter princess.

Enter Connie Selleca. Selleca had had non televised wins, upsets over big names, but had never really received much credit for her accomplishments. Anderson repeatedly referred to Connie as:”the girl with the bad legs”, refusing to even acknowledge Selleca’s name, but the brunette recognized a good opportunity when she saw it. “The Christmas fight is private of course,” recalls Selleca, “but it’s prestigious. I knew just sharing the ring with Loni was going to be a breakthrough for me.”

Fighting in Christmas motif bikinis (red felt, white fur trim) the girls sported white rabbit’s pelt gloves. These offered no more protection than regular gloves, but were less apt to cut and stick: Christmas beatings were pristine, shiny occasions. The poster for the fight became an instant classic, with the girls leaning in close, smiling hard into the lens, Santa’s caps jaunty on glistening heads of contrasting hair—Loni’s up, Connie’s in a ponytail with bangs.

During R1: Selleca went to work countering Loni’s jab with single-minded fury in a landmark first minute. Whistling right hands thumped off Loni’s cheeky face overtop her extended left, rattling the blonde, staggering her sideways. Anderson stood stiff and erect, hands at her chest height while Connie crouched forward, menacing Anderson with feints and sudden, explosive punching, On her heels, Loni slugged haphazardly, dazed by the pounding potshots on her face and in the final minute, Selleca had her girl on the ropes. Slugging out of the crouch, Connie battered Loni with crisp lefts and rights, hammering the blonde’s mighty chest, clocking her chin, polishing up that too-cute-face with rigorous work. At the bell, Anderson stood weaving in shock, as Connie stomped angry-butt to her corner.

R2: The girls exchanged hard jabs, reaching them into one another’s necks from far away, trying to get distance. Loni had gotten over the shock of Selleca’s accurate bombs and began dropping a keen right hand short from her shoulder, inching ever closer to Connies chin in stiff trade. Selleca continued to use torso-roll crouch, changing level on Loni, putting the jab on Loni’s tanned midriff along with that punished face. Rigid, stiff limbed punching from a distance, and down the stretch, the action favoured Anderson, Her right hands began to land with a solid, satisfactory thump, backing Selleca to the ropes at the bell.

R3: Connie upped the tempo. Outjabbing Loni, Selleca got Anderson moved backwards and immediately victimized the blonde with shocking power. Selleca’s pelt mitts bashed and skidded across Loni’s ribs, sounding out sick thuds as she lathered the blonde to the ropes. Connie got the right hand in, ducking into the punch and smashing Loni’s face to the side, often leaving the blonde extending her hands in a plaintive, ineffective gesture. Anderson’s eyes stared, her reactions slowed—she was posing for punches, facing into blows and Connie was taking it to her. The brunette had such a nice easy action as she mauled Loni with hooks, leaning onto the front foot, digging to the ribs, swinging at the jaw, leaning into the right foot to flick a jab, then easing back on the left foot to get off again. She’d break the rhythm with a short right hand or a curling left uppercut on occasion, but it was slick, constant hookwork that did the damage. Anderson was mute with punishment as the bell.

R4: Loni’s eyes showed it: fear, anxiety, doubt and she combated her feelings by trying to punch with Selleca. It was a mistake. The blonde’s crashing power never landed with authority as the brunette kept moving her upperbody, jabbing head and body and landing hard with either hand to the skull and ribcage. Anderson just couldn’t get traction—punches would club and thump off her frame, shaking her, forcing her to retreat against her will, the proud blonde dug in spots, showing heart, trying to brawl back, but the crisper, cleaner execution belonged to Selleca. As the bell tolled, Loni’s swollen, tender features glowed like a battered Rudolph—Selleca turned to stomp away on wiry, bandy legs, eyes blazing with success.

R5: Connie just kept at it—beating Loni to punches, standing the blonde up straight, then backing her up with vigorous sharpshooting. Anderson pressed, took a biting right off her forehead, posed for the clouting hook, got shook up another right off the eyes, Selleca stepped to her right behind a flicking jab, boxing just enough to set up her heartless powershots and Loni wilted hurt to the ropes. Andersons strength showed in these tough moments: she soaked up a dreadful pounding, but refused to go down. Selleca smoldered at the bell, obviously ready to go at Loni for another 5 just as hard as the first.

R6: Connie beat Loni to the jab, beat her to the right hand, stacked her up, backed her down. Anderson punched off bad feet, missing over the top, getting clobbered in return—Sellecas focus and decisiveness were chilling to the Hollywood royalty collected at ringside. With Connie rolling up Loni all over the ring, the blonde looked to be on her last legs, but with a minute left on the clock, Loni’s hammer finally hit home. A sharp exchange of rights with Selleca’s weight coming forward and Connie’s legs gave a sickening shimmy as she straightened. Dazed, battered, Loni came forward—straight right hand, sharp left hook—it was Connie;s turn to stare dumbfounded into hard punching as the brunette went numb. Jagged punching to the gave backed Selleca to the ropes—she reached forward to clinch, got thumped back by a rigid brace of uppercuts to the midsection from the blonde. Selleca slumped, butt in the ropes and Loni poured it on with her heavy, methodical strokes bashing the beautiful blue eyed starlet’s pretty face. Seconds left, and the ref had seen enough. Stepping in, he held Connie tight, and Loni Anderson stumbled away a ruined, victorious Christmas champion.

After: Selleca though dazed and busted up, would howl an outraged protest, writhing in the ref’s arms as Loni made a hurried exit from the ring.

“There’s no doubt about it,” Selleca has sid on numerous occasions, “That fight was brought and paid for, I got caught and I got hurt, but I was alert, I would have made it to the bell, and I would have battered Loni the rest of the way. To this day, if we’re both at the same party or gala? She moves to the other side of the room, not me. We both know who won that fight,” Anderson, for her part, lets the record speak for itself, “TKO^ Loni Anderson,” she’ll say, with unapologetic smirk on her lips.

Reposted by Archer 6/6/09.