Part 1:

Posted by Simguy on 7/25/2008, 7:27 am

Before: “I’ve seen her wrestle,” Tricia says of Padma in prefight. “She’s pitiless with another woman in her clutches, and I’ve noticed that the harder you squirm, or the more discomfort you show—the harder she grinds down. Heaven help you if you cry out. I couldn’t say no to this fight, even though Padma’s not a well-known FCBA name. The thing is—I may not have seen her box before, but I know who and what this woman is. In some ways, I’ve been fighting Padma Laksmi my entire life, and it’s not a competition I can shy away from.”

 Laksmi a curious combination of haughty disdain and down-home charm—before speaking, she takes time to beguile the press corps with hand-made treats she serves herself on silver trays, Hard-working scribes aren’t used to the dazzling smile and attention paid: most succumb without knowing their objectivity has been compromised. “ I am descended from three hundred generations of fighting courtesans,” Padma proclaims proudly, cutti8ng her glance to Tricia. “My ancestors were loved by kinds, and fought for them—I come from an unbroken line of supremacy that reaches back to the time of your Alexander. What is Tricia, but a typical mongrel? A woman with no past, and after this fight, no future as well. I will destroy Tricia Helfer as a message to the rest: Padma Laksmi has arrived.”

Weigh-in between former models more savage than some fights. First, Padma sweeps into the room wearing full diaphanous harem-regalia. Deliberately showing up Trish in her Jockey cottons. Padma’s brazen gaze goes over every inch of Tricia’s body, heartlessly seeking out any imperfection, bringing a rosy blush to Helfer’s cheeks. As a final slap, Padma insists on weighing Tricia herself—carefully aligning the instruments and taking far too long with the procedure. Tricia’s friendly demeanor, uncharacteristically soured by Laksmi’s mindgames: after Padma makes weight, Tricia demands a second weighing. “Check her again,” Helfer insists, arms crossed, eyes glaring. Padma.

Padma in muted taupy-green bikini with a slightly metallic finish; white gloves; hair in a long harem-girl ponytail with wavy bangs framing her face. Tricia iun metallic blue bikini; white gloves; soft platinum curls.

During R1: Helfer’s eyes narrow at Padma’s stance; southpaw! Laksmi relaxed. Left fist closed near her mouth (elbow in tight to her body); right hand open, almost cupping the left fist; right shoulder pointed at Trish, right foot forward. Padma pivoting gracefully to her right, sliding that front (right) foot: she jabs out and down with the open-hand, looking to knock down Tricia’s defences. Warnings from the ref for Padma sliding oily straight lefts—turning over her back (left) foot prettily as she leans in to score, then pointing the toes of her right foot as she leans back out of range in wide stance. Helfer’s receipts often comes up short as Laksmi proves a cobra in the first.

R2: Tricia gives her head a shake, makes professional adjustments. First—she gets her lead (left) foot outside of Padma’s. Second, Tricia moves to her own left, turning Padma’s right flank. Third—Tricia feints, and leans into straight lead rights up the middle, punching Padma on the mouth or chin, startling Laksmi, Padma gliding back after contact, sinuously prowling around, eyes narrowed. Helfer dictating—not a lot of flush contact as both beauties weave in and out in wide stances, bending at the waist—but Tricia’s definitely leading the dance.

R3: Rangy, sinewy display—women pivoting around each other, baiting each other, changing levels with supple waists, changing distance with sliding footwork. Eyes locked in concentration—each girl reading the other’s every twitch: neither able to do much damage with sudden, oily strikes up the middle, Down the stretch, Helfer finally able to feint Padma out of position, then lean in to catch her a furious right hand clout to chin. Padma rocked off balance, she staggers back in disarray, breasts sloshing I undignified manner as she stamps for balance, Helfer hopping-to, seizing the moments: rich, whacking right/left sounds out from Padma’s waistline, crumpling her forward behind her mitts, Whimper of pain from Laksmi as well: Tricia’s eyes glitter at the sound, Extra left uppercut gouges at Laksmi’s sternum at bell—Helfer snap-snatching the punch off her foe’s majestic midsection.

R4: Padma proves a sorceress, adjusting to Tricia’s attack. Laksmi with her right foot outside Tricia’s left, rotating right to turn the blonde’s left flank. Padma batting down with her right, knocking Tricia’s left mitt out of position, then scoring with a cobra-tongue left over top, spanking Tricia’s face. Weaving the receipts—Padma’s able to lick and lash her left hand underneath—carrying it into Tricia’s stomach sidearm, then swaying back of range. Right hooks begin to find Tricia—Padma getting them as she’s transitioning weight to her back (Left) leg after scoring with the left hand: Helfer’s output plummets as Padma scores coming and going. Laksmi earns her first warnings for clasping her hands ‘round Tricia’s head: Indian beauty clearly a master at the Muay Thai clinch, pulling and spinning her blonde off balance.; Padma bell to bell, getting all the touches: she makes steamy eye-contact as the girls pass en route to respective corners.

R5: Padma again, starting to pull strings, starting to undress Tricia a bit, Startling straight left to chin staggers Tricia—her eye brows arched high in surprise at the strike. Straight lefts slash in and down, smiting Tricia against her sternum, or parting her breasts: Padma melting off to the right, escaping around Tricia’s left shoulder, Tricia wincing at  the hot swipe of Padma’s lathering right hook delivered in under Helfer’s left elbow; nasty chop. Hacking at Tricia’s core. In and out, up and down, all around—Padma working with slow, sensual movements, then quick, precise strikes—gradually breaking Tricia down. More warnings for Padma: “Stay off her neck, Laksmi!”—sultry brunette chooses to ignore ref’s suggestions. Haunted look in Tricia’s eyes as she’s shutout back to back for one of the few times in her career. Lost in thought at the bell, Helfer faces into the soft black brushing of a ponylash the likes of which has never been seen in the West. Tricia blinking in astonishment as Padma struts away from her without a backward glance.

R6: Tricia pressing the pace—getting close and digging firm right/lefts to Padma’s exquisite waist. Laksmi retreating, giving up the touches, but at the minute mark, she walks Tricia into a withering right hook-to-chin, turning tightly into the punch, buckling Tricia’s knees. Helfer hurt, covers up face-in-gloves: Padma purring as she leans her chin out over Tricia’s left shoulder, carrying a limber left hand thick to blonde gut. Gust of breath hisses past Tricia’s clenched teeth: Padma gently bodies up, slides a little to her right, then lashes a second succulent left into Tricia’s breadbasket. Helfer groaning, turning, folding forward behind her mitts: Padma palming blonde hips, or lightly embracing Tricia about the shoulders—pushing in close to turn Tricia  counterclockwise, then lavishing a sinuous, swiping right across the midsection. Padma smiling cruelly—almost tender with Tricia when she’s cuddling or palming her to move her around, then coldblooded when punching comes. Gasping Tricia finally clinching around dusky Indian ribs, weeping into Padma’s shoulder; Laksmi wriggles her elbows down into the clinch, wrapping up around TRICIA’S ribs and walking her to ropes. More succulent, strapping blows from Padma, in between clinches: Laksmi almost impossible to tie-up as she slithers her arms inside Tricia’s, then continuing the harm. During the break, Helfer getting ice on her face and ribs both: she’s hurting.

HELFER/LAKSMI conc.

Posted by Simguy on 7/25/2008, 7:27 am.

R7: Tricia open-mouthed, looking desperate, She’s puffy about the eyes, pink about the ribs, looking harried and distressed as Padma stalks her anew. Tricia fighting valiantly I spots—pounding rights/lefts off Padma’s tight midsection with lanky delivery. Laksmi working in and out, using that graceful, wide stance and pivoting around her anchored right foot: she’s pat9iently picking Tricia apart with stinging straight lefts, followed by the pull-away right hooks. At closer ranges, Padma will schmooze to her right and chop short left hands hammer-drop style to Tricia’s face, catching Helfer on the left side of her jaw. Padma’s also licking a short, cute right uppercut inside, getting it off her front (right) foot as Tricia’s trying to cover up. We’ve rarely seen Tricia turned and spun so effectively: Padma sliding to the side, using her hands to caress and palm Tricia, almost gently coaxing her around in preparation for another striping. Bell: Padma breezes past, blowing in Tricia’s ear with a smile as another around goes East.

R8: Tricia midring, bamboozled, vexed: she covers up face-in-gloves, turning on the spot as Padma has her way. Hard to watch—Laksmi dominating Tricia as few ever have. Padma will lean in close, carrying limber body blows into Tricia, lapping long-armed strokes against tummy and flanks. Padma will dart in off the jab, or simply lead the straight left—penetrating Tricia’s weary defence and punching back her beautiful face. Transitioning to the left (rear) leg—Padma’s just as dangerous—lashing her right hook at Tricia’s cheek or ribcage, preventing any blonde receipts, Helfer’s long, sinewy legs holding her up, but she’;s being flogged by her mistress here—heartbreaking for any proud blonde. Bell: Laksmi in close—she moves to pass Tricia, trailing her left hand insolently across Helfer’s tummy.

R9: Tricia again mounting offence—leaning in close to lick succulent strokes against the offending Indian breadbasket. Laksmi calm under the assaults, sliding back from them, luring Tricia forward, clinching her head, turning her, smiting her to gradually retake the initiative. Down the stretch, Padma pushes off as though she’s disengaging, then suddenly lunges forward and down, driving the straight left off Tricia’s sternum: Helfer cries out in shock, doubling forward in pain. Snarling—Padma shifts weight to left foot as she scythes a right hook across Tricia’s abdomen, tearing at the blonde. Helfer baby-stepping forward in gut-shot agony: Padma seething, teeth bared as she stands erect, exulting in the sight of her crippled enemy at the bell.

R10: Laksmi sweeps the supple left hand into Tricia’s gut, then looks to double quick into a left uppercut: mistake as Tricia’s turning over a whistling left hook, catching Padma to chin, swiveling her head. Gasp from the crowd as Laksmi’s legs buckle, then straighten—she staggers out of it, still standing—but she’s got a hazy, stunned look about her. Tricia hopeful, sees the hurt—she quick-pounces in, stooping to drive a lancing straight right to her foe’s proud ribcage, ringing the punch off sternum. Padma grunting, stumbles to ropes, covering up face-in gloves and looking to lip-n’-roll. Trish jabbing  on the approach, then lavishing that hated waist a lashing right roundhouse—thick, pounding blow rebounds off Padma-meat, bunching her forward with a muffled cry. Tricia pushes Padma in her shoulders—Laksmi bounces off the ropes, ducks down under a savage right—spins off the ropes and staggers away. Tricia legging after her as second wind down: Helfer hungry to the stoppage; Laksmi knows it, seeks to prevent it, Tricia hounds Padma all around the ring, lashing at her waist to open up the head. Padma sobbing, legs shot—but she’s craftily clinching Tricia’s head and pulling her around—playing foe refs breaks. Down the stretch—Padma sliding to the right at the ropes, her mouth open, eyes forlorn: Tricia lunges in, sells a decoy job to the tummy, then pours her long lines into a slinging right cross to chin. Laksmi caught FLUSH—head tossed back over top rope, then she sloshes forward limp, her hands loose at her chest. PADMA GOES DOWN! Tricia stumbling away, utterly spent herself: Laksmi sprawls on her left cheek, lips parted moist against canvas, her hands tucked up underneath her. It’s OVER! Surging hail-mary KO10, Tricia Helfer.

After: Shocking come-from-behind victory sees battered Tricia almost as bewildered as she is relieved. Laksmi in stupor—still in swoon as she’s helped up and walked gingerly to her corner—magnificent head lolling: beautiful eyes glassy/uncomprehending. “Beat me?” Padma keeps asking her trainer. “Beat…me?”

“I remember a fight I had with this girl on my dad’s farm one summer,” battered Trish relates during in-ring postfight. “She was bigger than me—a year older. She kept knocking me down—I still remember the taste of dust in my mouth from the dirt roadway. She’s kick me I the ribs and her friends would laugh—she’d strut around asking me if I’d had enough—but you know what? I kept getting up. She started getting tired, and I kept getting up, and eventually, I put her on her back and punched her to sleep. I remembered that girl tonight—because Padma Laksmi was taking me apart; she was embarrassing me. For once, I knew I couldn’t finesse my way out of the situation—I had to just fight through it. I’m scared by what Padma was able to do with me: I’m going right back to camp and we’re going to look at every facet of my game. Part of it was preparation: I only had one southpaw in camp and that was Erica Durance—but the rest of it was Padma, and I have to be better if there’s ever a next time between us.” BLONDE! Magazine heaping praise upon Tricia for this gutty effort—elevating her to “Great Blonde” status as she turns back a highly touted, hauntingly beautiful brunette.

Reposted by Archer 9/24/09