Part 1

Posted bv Simguy on 10/3/2008, 7:28 am.

Before: “Leighton’s a tune up—and a cautionary tale—all rolled up in one!” Sarah smirks in prefight. “She’s bright-eyed and optimistic right now—I’m lovin’ the innocence. Can’t wait to give this girl a cold hard dose of reality. Bottom line—Leighton Meester’s not going anywhere in the FCBA—not on my watch.” Meester brave in the face of icy determination from Sarah: Leighton refusing to be podium-bullied, “Sarah’s a try-harder blonde who should be getting used to failure by now,” Meester snipes, scoring a palpable but as Sarah blinks rapidly, indignantly in response. “She knows Gossip Girl is a smash, smash hit—bigger than anything she’ll ever do—and I’m taking all that momentum into the ring with me. Not only am I going to be champion in the FCBS, I’m going to get there over Sarah’s prone body. Sarah’s like all the girls I’ve battered in audition battles my whole career.  I know a career understudy when I’ve seen one.” Carter open-mouthed, sputtering with rage: game, set, match Meester as smug Leighton prances from the dais SO proud of herself. Gold bikini; long blonde ponytail with bangs framing face; small black work out gloves for Sarah. Green lace push up and panties, small black work out gloves for Leighton. Carter refusing to touch gloves: sweet-smiling Leighton still baiting her with maddening expression.

R1: Sarah smirking, lacking respect early: Leighton pounces. Lunging lefts and rights brush Sarah’s face as she jerks back—Meester stepping-with, chopping out straight shots as she comes: Sarah catches leather on her mouth and cheeks as Leighton drives her to ropes. Sarah bounces, ducks and comes up angry: Leighton calmly stands ground, outpunches Sarah as lithe flyweights exchange brisk leather. Carter scoots to the right, spinning of the ropes: Leighton steps-with, jabbing Sarah in her chest, then lunging in a shafting right cross to turn Carter’s head. Another exchange as Carter tries to outhustle Leighton: Meester lowers her head, digs to flat blonde tummy to back Carter up again, Sarah scowling—off balance—Leighton’s aggressive pursuit has classy blonde scrambling. Down the stretch, Sarah attempting to take initiative with another lathering trading session: Leighton calmly stands in the pocket, stays compact and punches straight, short shots onto Sarah’s face. CARTER’S LEGS GIVE A SHIMMY: she’s hurt, wobbly butt. Sarah finishes up draped around Leighton’s neck, holding on at the break. Stunned Carter turns away, blinking in astonishment: spirited Leighton flips Sarah’s ponytail up and around, lashing Carter across her own eyes! Crowd roars—bringing out the dimples on an upbeat Leighton Meester.

R2: Carter out cold-eyed—rattled in the first, she settles down in the second, gets down to business. Carter elbows in, dukes up and relaxed, chin tucked, eyes blazing, Leighton in similar stance, formed up at middle distance, Sarah twitching her left shoulder to feint Leighton, then jabbing her: stiff, popping shot seeking Meester’s face. Leighton back in kind, Sarah weaves, pivots left, comes up spitting poke. Leighton turning, intelligent eyes processing Sarah’s moves: Meester jots the the straight right hand lead, comes back the left jab. Sarah steps in with her jab, then sides back a smidge—subtly changing the distance. Back and forth like this—girls fighting eyes locked the entire time, shoulders twitching, heads bobbing. Carter’s a little quicker, a little less predictable, Leighton nice and straight with her punches, but not always turning them over—she’s often just prodding them thumb-size up onto Sarah.

R3: Similar looks and distance, Sarah dictating—she’s the quicker girl, getting off first.

Carter’s footwork economical, precise: she’ll step in with the jab; slide back while dragging the lead (left) foot; pivot-left. Leighton attempting to match wits and class with Sarah, but it’s a mistake: Carter’s jab now tracking Meester’s head movement, tapping

hard against her beautiful features. Methodical cruelty applied to the problem of Leighton’s face: Sarah patiently pecking away the left jab off feints—sometimes doubling up the poke PIK! PAK!—startling Leighton. Bell: Sarah smirks, makes dancing eye contact with frustrated Leighton as if to say: “That’s a shutout bytch!”

R4: Leighton competitive—she’s catching face-poke, but driving her own jab through to Sarah’s mouth and chest at times. Sarah pivoting left—her legs are giving her the initiative, constantly changing angle on Meester. Sarah starting to mix it up a little—sometimes stepping in a rising lead right to Leighton’s bra, then turning over a short-swiping hook to mouth. Tic-toc punching from Sarah has Leighton backing up, looking concerned. Carter relaxing—right hand bobbing gently in the air as she sets in her stance—left hand stitching suddenly into Leighton’s mug. Down the stretch, frustrated Leighton rushes Sarah: carter retreats in good order, evades the desperate punches, clips Meester a supple outside-in right bolo uppercut and sidesteps-right as Leighton crashes face-first into ropes, LEIGHTON’S HURT! Sneaky chin-clip has Meester clutching ropes to hold herself up: Sarah swoops in with a vicious buggywhip right hand to Leighton’s back at the bell. Leighton cringing, face pinched in pain: Sarah whirls on her feet, drawing that feathery blonde ponytail across Meester’s wincing face.

R5: Meester gunshy—she’s tentative, out on the end of Sarah’s punches. Leighton with dukes up, but clearly unable to match handspeed as Sarah pinpoints her jab to left eye and mouth—patiently busting Leighton up, Bird-like cruelty from Carter as she tap-tap-taps away at Meester—connect-percentage rising as Leighton breaks down. Sarah rotating clockwise—happy to be jabbing Meester to ribbons. Sarah only breaking the pattern to step in with that right to Leighton’s breasts/hook to the mouth combo—startling Meester onto her heels every time. Breezy shutout Sarah: she’s smiling en route to her corner, eyes mean. Nearby ringside: Hayden catches Sarah’s eye and mouths the word “No”. Carter expressionless, ignores her stablemate.

Carter/Meester conc.

Posted by Simguy on 10/3/2008, 7:29 am.

R6: Leighton SO plucky: hands up, punching out straight shots from her shoulders—she’s still scuffing and poking at Sarah in spots. Carter unconcerned—managing distance with relaxed footwork, dominating with that stitching jab. Sarah punching the odd straight right off her lead (Left foot to compliment the jabs: both blonde fists targeting brunette left eye, punching it up ugly through 6.

R7: Leighton in a tough spit here, Outside, fronting on Sarah—she’s getting picked apart. When she rushes forward, Leighton can’t close distance on her lithe tormentress: Sarah easily gliding back from pressure, always threatening to unleash a vicious counter right hand on her spooked foe. As Leighton’s charges run their course—Sarah circles back to her and resumes tapping—working on Leighton’s face with diligent cruelty. Meester cringing now from poke—reacting late, crouching and covering up: Sarah takes the opportunity to lean in off her front (left) foot and lift gouging left uppercuts to Leighton’s trim tummy. Bell: Leighton really busting up now, and that left eye is closing fast.

R8: Plucky Leighton dukes up, elbows in, trying to straight-punch Sarah  from outside. Carter easily dominating these exchanges—connecting with either hand off her front foot to poor Leighton’s tender face. Scoring blows on Meester’s mug hurting her so: she crouches instinctively, covering her face—exposing her back and flanks. Sarah against Leighton’s left hip and lower back; gouging atr Leighton’s sternum left hands up underneath. In and out—Sarah on her toes, floating around Leighton, then touching her: Meester stops punching about half way through—just turning and absorbing punishment to the bell.

R9: Hard to watch. Leighton wobbly butt—very brave and showing tremendous heart in turning to keep Sarah in front—but Meester’s being tragically picked upon here. Sarah’s eyes cold, intense as she circles, feints, drills away with either hand on the offending face. As Meester breaks down—she cowers forward behind her gloves—inviting Sarah to lash hateful buggywhip rights and rip-dig left uppercuts to body. Crowd groaning in sympathy as Sarah commits her lissome frame and slender limbs to lashing Leighton senseless: Meester ships a bullwhipping this round—crying at the end of it. Sarah sees tears, smiles demurely, padding back to her corner well pleased with herself. Odd silence in Sarah’s corner: Trainer’s ashen faced, just giving his fighter water and wiping her brow—but having a hard time looking her in the eyes.

R10: Leighton stubborn off her stool, engaging Sarah with perky straight rights and lefts. Carter tapped at, gives ground, batting Leighton’s punches out of the air, but not answering. Meester emboldened—she keeps coming, scoring straight, scrubbing criss-cross to Sarah’s breasts, then trying for her face as Carter dips and weaves. Carter unhurt, but definitely backpedalling—apparently cruising to the finish line. Final minute—Carter suddenly erupting as Leighton walks in: lashing right uppercut punches Meester’s head up and back, shooting her mouthpiece onto the air. Leighton’s legs accordion-like—she staggers forward in a fog as Sarah sidesteps-right, baring her teeth as she sidearms a buggywhip right against Leighton’s lower back. Leighton sobbing out, stumbles into ropes: Sarah steps-to, pushing her left hand in to stabilize Meester. Right uppercut clips Leighton’s chin, rocks her head back: again her knees bend and straighten—her torso lolling forward. Sarah palming Leighton’s ribs, pushes her upright at ropes, then pastes her a left across the mouth, then a right. Leighton’s hands out to either side, loose and helpless: she’s out on her feet. Ringsiders screaming—Leighton’s head lolling—plucky brunette’s defenceless, held up by those curvy legs and too much pride. Sarah stays on her—lefts and rights—palming Leighton’s ribcage to reset her for the next batch of punches. Bell: ref jumps I immediately, hugging a blubbering Meester to safety, UD10 wide—Sarah Carter.

After: Hayden in Carter’s face, shouting “What’s WRONG with you?” with an odd combination of concern for carter and outrage at her, Sarah smoldering—shoves her way past, removes her gloves in silence in her corner. Foxfire fighters looking stunned: they’re happy for Sarah, but they just can’t congratulate her. It’s the cruelest they’ve ever seen Carter, reminding them all she’s very different from them on some level. Panettiere looks to Meester as Leighton sits in stupor on her stool, potentially the recipient of the Beating of the Year, that pesky first round not withstanding, “Leighton had it coming,” Sarah tells BLONDE! magazine in postfight, shrugging her shoulders defensively. “If it was Charlize Theron handing out a beating to someone who had disrespected her, no one would say anything. You know it’s true.”

Reposted by Archer on 11/3/09.