Part 1:

Posted by Simguy on 3/30.2007, 7:38 pm.

Before: “I want to apologize right here and now for my conduct against Lindsay Lohan in my first fight against BSE,” a chastened Sarah Carter announces at the podium. No, that isn’t the faintest trace of irony in her soft voice—it’s just a slight northern accent, easily misinterpreted. “Things got heated,. And obviously, there are punches I wish I could take back that I never can. But whatever—I hope that Natalie can fight me in the best spirit of woman to woman competition that exemplifies FCBA excellence. Portman’ style so closely mirrors my own, that I’m looking forward to a long campaign against her—one which will settle matters decisively between us—and this fight will be the first struggle in that long road. I’ve got nothing but admiration for Nat, and I’m thrilled I’ve secured the resources I’ll need to compete effectively with the superstars of Portman’s caliber now, and in the future. Thank you.”

Portman pursing her lips at the podium, obviously less then convinced: “First off, Sarah—don ;t call me ‘Nat’,” Portman rebukes, “Secondly—no, you can’t take back those punches to Lindsay’s trunks which cost her that fight. Thirdly, you may have Mountee brass fooled—you may have dumber members of the press fooled, and you may have some of your fans bamboozled—but I see right through you. Do me THAT courtesy, give me that much respect: please don’t think that I’m buying this cheese-eating act of yours. The one thing we agree on is there will be protracted conflict between us. And when it’s over—when you realize that I’m better—we can be friends if you still want. Until then, Sarah, please: protect yourself at all times,”

Sarah in long ponytail with bangs framing face; sports gymnastics two-piece with maple-leaf motif top, high cut solid red bottoms; small white “Cat paw’ brand gloves. Natalie in navy bandeau bikini (sturdy sport/low rise hipster-fit bottoms); small navy “Cat Paw” brand gloves; slick battle braid.

During R1: Girls prowling to midring, right hands at cheeks, left hands at chests, primed for jabbing. FIERCE negotiations via the jab—girls in and pout at each other, poking and spitting at one another’s faces with snappy, licking stick. Swooping, sliding clockwise rotation as both vixens drag that front (left) foot like old pros, supple underbodies leaning back, or bending down to get away from the merciless strafing. Rhythm of it is—Portman scores to Sarah’s left eye/cheek; Sarah scores in kind; Portman finishes—constantly outjabbing her foe in nimble engagements all around the ring.

R2: More of it—girls’ pretty faces set in stern scowls of concentration as footwork, balance, ring position all being contested in agile minds of the combatants, Jab astill the punch of choice—but operations now spreading to include trim, taut bellies; semi-exposed left breasts; mouth, as well as cheek and eye. Both girls baring their teeth as they double up flicking jabs, and start to mix in right hands. Both girls twisting to their right and dipping down to thwart opposition right hands, slip-rolling under them. Sarah the first to show a hook—snap-snatching it tasty off Nat’s shoulder and temple—Carter turning her shoulder through the delivery, biting the punch off tight.

R3: Classy, classy showdown continues. Added to the dizzying cocktail of techniques: feints; hooks-off-the-jab, and; lead right hands, occasionally with hestitation timing to take the other after she’s made her defensive decision. More bodywork for both vixens—Portman exemplifying that snatching, Sugar Ray Leonard hook to the ribcage and tummy that all BSE vixens seem to be sporting these days. Carter with a similar tight, licking lash-hook of her own, eyes sparkling whenever small mitt twists and bites into Natalie’s firm flesh. Bell: girls slide back from each other, eyes locked, nostrils flaring—hot swapping through 3 has both vixens pinking up nicely.

R4: One girl finally looks to be in control: it’s Natalie. Portman suppressing Sarah’s jab with a spitting, brisk stick and now Natalie’s pressing behind it to score the right hand up top and carving hooks to Sarah’s flat middle, Carter loping back out of range, but unable to get round Natalie’s flanks—Portman cutting off the ring, hounding Sarah into a small swatch of canvas at the Mountee corner. Middle minute sees Natalie patiently, thoughtfully reduce the carter pocket: darting in/out and jabbing the body; slowly mixing in hard right hands up top (missing as Sarah rolls); capitalizing on vicious hooks to Carter’s midsection and face  as Sarah’s coming out of her crouch, Sarah bending at her waist, rotating her torso, being supple—but Natalie VERY quick mitted here, penetrating the defences with both volume and trickery, scoring to the face breasts and tummy of foe. Down the stretch—Natalie brushes Sarah upright via the hook and FINALLY cashes in that leaning right cross to chin. Head swivel sends blonde ponytail whiplashing around—Carter’s knees buckle/straighten woozy; she issues the fight’s first desperate clinches, utilizing the small Cat Paw style glove to pull Natalie in and clamp her tight.

R5: Bitter, bitter jabbing battle as both girls fight mercilessly to control space and tempo: both scoring heartlessly to left eye. Beautiful to watch if you’re a purist: gamine-bodies lasses taking turns pouncing in, then slide-stepping back while bending low, or pivoting-left. Very hard for either girl to land a right hand at range, but the use of it instrumental in getting the opponent to commit defensively, thereby bringing hooks into play. Sarah able to clip Natalie some good hooks throughout—slashing at Portman’s trim tummy or catching her in the teeth. Down the stretch, Portman’s  largely defensive—bending and writhing away from Sarah’s long, licking punches. Carter ekes out close pointsm answers the strong Portman fourth.

Carter/Portman conc. (Not the jugs, must be the class)

Posted by Simguy on 3/30/2007, 7:39 pm.

R6: Sarah suppresses Natalie’s jab with a cruel, accurate poke—blonde tapping heartlessly at brunette’s left eye, forcing Portman into evasive action. Natalie bending supple at the waist, pivoting—but Sarah’s starting to feint Nat out of position, then pounce from angles, opening Portman just a smidge. Carter circling, gliding in and out, stroking and lashing whip-limbed lefts and rights in concert with the jabs and straight right hands: Portman’s defence breaking down a little under the constant threat—blonde’s piling up good, good touches here. Midway through, Sarah curls a sinewy left uppercut to Natalie’s overhanging face as blonde’s shifting weight to her back (right) leg. Cater immediately pouncing forward with a short right/tidy, clipping left hook combo to catch Nat as brunette is stunned. Sarah bares her teeth, lathering her foe to the ropes—Portman desperately hurt, rolling and slipping shots until she can bend low, hug Carter up around her hips for the ref’s break. Sarah squirming, wriggling her elbows down to pry apart Natalie’s grip—Carter able to break the clinch BEFORE the ref can separate’em—blonde doing a great job of staying on her girl and working. Last few moments long and hard for Natalie: she ships a beating, covering up earmuff as Sarah strokes hooks across the abdomen; curls right uppercuts, and; louts right hands to ear at the bell. Carter’s cheeks red with fury, eyes blazing as she quickly sums up Natalie’s reserves: ballistic blonde turns on her heel, neatly drawing her soft, damp ponytail across Portman’s bruised face. Trembling, Natalie blurts “NO!” at the insufferable touch of the ponylash. Unspeakable!

R7: Natalie answers and answers with vigour. First minute jabbing sees Natalie eventually suppress Sarah’s stick, then brunette goes on the offensive strong, hunting Carter down all over the ring. Sarah stricken—HER left eye starting to swell and close—she’s loping, dancing the perimeter, trying to shake Natalie’s nimble pursuit, Portman raiding the Carter ribcage and tummy—strafing Sarah brisk crisscross lefts and rights, then hopping/walking the blonde down as carter slithers to either side. Sarah offering back dangerous, sinuous counters off the ropes—right uppercuts, lashing left hooks—but she’s mostly defensive, just trying to keep Natalie from opening up full throttle.

R8: Natalie takes the jab away from Sarah, establishing air supremacy before taking risks in close. Sarah shying away discouraged as her left eye’s starting to close. There’s blood in Sarah’s mouth from a cut inside her lip, and her face is pink and puffy, mirroring Natalie’s own, Minute mark; Portman doubles up the jab, forcing Sarah to twist/bend down and to her right—Nat able to extend on an exquisite lancing right cross to catch Sarah perfectly on the jaw. Hurtin’ ponytrot Sarah, face all cramped with ringing hurt and CARTER GOES DOWN! Sarah flopped awkwardly to all fours as Natalie brays in triumph—huge late round knockdown in a close fight has BSE girls on their feet ringside. Sarah regrouping shabby at the ropes, lips downcastr, eyes blinking to clear addled wits and HERE COMES NATALIE! Portman pouncing all-in, desperate to close—FURIOUS battling bombardment of lefts and rights buffets Sarah’s ears as poor blonde bends forward off the ropes behind her mitts, Carter stumbling forward, trying to smother: Nat stepping back in good order, eyes wide as she dips her shoulder and RIPS right uppercuts into the oncoming ribcage, mercilessly gutting Sarah, carter bleating in pain—she careens past as Nat sidesteps—blonde hitting far ropes face first, righting herself just as Natalie’s pouncing in one again. SHEETS of Portman leather—springloaded punching as Portman twists side to side to coax wiry power from gamine limbs—small biting and bouncing off Carter as she covers up earmuff. Tasty, tart, beatdown—Natalie baring her teeth to excuse Sarah and CARTER GOES DOWN! Sarah drooping, Sarah wilting00she finally cringes breathless and panting to all fours as Natalie throws her fists in the air, bellowing in triumph. Ref pushes seething Nat back, allowing Carter to rise, Brave little blonde makes it to the bell, blinking back tears as Lohan leaps to her feet to scream encouragement to Portman.

R9: Sarah ALL banged up, sliding away from Natalie with that dragging left foot—Carter parceling out the jab as she retreats, occasionally bending forward to sweep a right hand low to Natalie’s left hip. Portman grimly forward, arms humming, but she’s still got zip left—just trying to close to point-blank range before unleashing the finishing touches. Sarah shying away, lashing right hands to Natalie’s body, but when Portman penetrates: LEFT HOOK—JAW—SARAH CARTER! OH the bite of this blast—Sarah tucking her shoulder in behind the hook, catching Natalie beautifully behind her ear—Portman immediately unhinged, careening and staggering around—PORTMAN GOES DOWN!

Natalie sprawled awkwardly to her right hip, hands outfront on the canvas—she shakes her head, unable to feel her extremities as Carter stumbles shabby to neutral corner. NATALIE BEATS THE COUNT! Portman willing herself to rise, knocked out from her hips on down, but somehow rallying: she raises a limp guard to her temples, gnashing her teeth as mouthbreathing Sarah pods in to finish. HAMMER AND TONGS! Shaky-legged gamines just planting flat footed, then whaling away—each lashing her shots, then bringing the elbow back tight to her body and crouching to receive receipt, Exhausted, slashing stuff—neither girl with the verve to mount a decisive combination—it’s all slosh-and-duck, back and forth, to the break. Bell: Sarah falls into Natalie’s arms where the girls embrace, panting and all used up—ref peels’em apart sweaty-tacky tummies and breasts gummily separating.

R10: Desperately hurt, but utterly professional—both girls compose themselves, take a quick inventory of what’s left and form up like professional prizefighters. Legs’re shaky, girls stepping flat-footed now—but balance is good as each tries to reach jabs to the other’s midriff. Natural shoulder-roll of either the perfect defence against the respective right hands, but both girls hot-licking hooks tummy, breasts, and mouths. Mostly boxed out at range, with Sarah seemingly I control—occasional sequences shoulder-to-shoulder see Natalie outwork her foe. Bell: girls step back in orderly fashion, dukes still up at chins, eyes glaring; both have closed the opponent’s left eye and touched her up real good in a classy donnybrook. Comes back SO close: UD10…Sarah Carter.

After: Sarah brightening as her name is announced and her left hand raised: she permits herself a single pump of the right fist, holding a torrent of emotion in a classy display of self-restraint. Natalie in shock—all she remembers is putting Sarah down twice in the 8^th: it’s a gut-kick loss which will draw comparisons of Packard’s first defeat at the fists of Claire Danes, Both exquisite boxers claim jab supremacy, but there’s little to choose in a fight of this quality. Sarah looking to extend the olive branch, approaching Natalie to shake her hand: Portman confused by the friendly gesture itself combined with what she perceives to be the arrogant angle of blonde’s shoulders, that insufferable ponytail, and a potentially smug expression. Lohan breaks it all up by shoving Sarah roughly in her shoulder and precipitating an in-ring disturbance which delays the PPV for several minutes.

“The judges felt I bested her,” a scrubbed up Sarah shrugs in postfight, managing a demure grin, “but I thought we could have used a few more rounds. I thought she was starting to give in to me, but Natalie Portman is very, very proud, To my way of thinking—I may have scored more points than she did tonight, but I certainly didn’t beat that girl. I’ve got a LOT more work to do before I can claim that.”

Reposted by Archer 10/12/09.