Post by Lookout! Boxing on Jul 28, 2023 22:21:43 GMT -6
Vivian Hsieh vs Katie Price
(Words: Epic / Results: Lookout!)
Katie's stablemate and second Lacey Turner watches from the sidelines as she climbs into the ring. She was to face Vivian Hsieh tonight, a woman younger, curvier, and stronger if her records were anything to go by. Not under JMD rules, either, which was all Katie ever fought under, but under normal bantamweight rules. All signs spoke to defeat, and many warned her that taking the challenge was ill-advised; but Katie simply had shrugged in response and said:
"7-1 in her first year, so what? She's gone 2-7 in the last two. They say that she's one of the greats - pfft, I say she's washed up. How many charlatans surprise the league with a good start only to falter when their tricks are exhausted? Too many.”
She is unable to believe it, not truly. It sounds too much like Jenny Mac talking for her to swallow her doubts and qualms. She can only hope the Price is Right as Hsieh approaches the ring to louder applause. Here in the east few have heard of Katie, and support of the crowd played only too much in a boxer’s fighting will. Still, despite her misgivings, Katie Price appears unfazed going into a match with every disadvantage possible. The sight of Harumi Nemoto, who had defeated Katie years ago, whispering swift words into Vivian’s ear, who cuts a menacing figure in that black bikini of hers, puts another nail in Price’s metaphorical coffin.
That white bikini of hers will not stay white for very long, Turner thinks.
Round one proves her wrong, but not wrong enough for her to drop her worries. Katie goes for the jugs right from the onset, and Vivian seems to have not expected such a course of events; and Katie scores, securing control of the tempo of the match. Then she should have turned her attention to the head or stomach, targets where fists did more damage, Lacey thinks, but she remains fixated on the Asian’s breasts like it is JMD. Perhaps it is out of jealousy of her larger endowments. Perhaps that is the only way Price knew how to box. Perhaps that is simply the course she chose on a whim. That singular course soon grows predictable, and in response Vivian rallies, and staunchly walls her off, though she is unable to break Price’s defense. Katie’s early performance lets her take the round by a small margin.
“You realize this is not JMD, right?” Turner says to her as she slumps heavily onto her stool.
“Yeah. Just didn’t like her. Tryin’ to show ‘er, that’s all.”
“Ok, then. Hit her where it hurts.”
But in round two Vivian gives Katie a taste of her own medicine, shaking the rack with mostly hooks, sometimes mixing in the occasional uppercut. She gives ground to the Asian, conceding territory for space to dodge, rally, and recover, but she never gets the chance to make a comeback, as Vivian’s pressing assault keeps her moving backwards. The bell rings without too much action having occurred. Few blows hit the target this round, but Price is tiring while Vivian is not, and that is a truth plain to her and the opposition, who smile at her from the opposite corner of the ring.
Without her telling her, Katie seems to have figured out the meaning of their mirth for herself, and strives to close the match as quickly as she can, ramping up her assault and finally going for the head at last. Hsieh misjudges the approach of an uppercut, thinking it aimed for her breasts, and lays her defense too low. Katie’s glove sails between her arms and cleavage, just barely clipping her tits, going up high and ringing the doorbell, slamming into an open chin with savage force. The lights fade from her eyes, and her knees start folding, and gravity takes over…
But only for a heartbeat, and then it was like she was never gone in the first place. With a shake of her head Hsieh shakes off the fog and haze, and shores up her defense, not letting Price hit her like that again for the entire round. To do so, though, she abandons the defense of her periphery, and Price continues to dish out punishment in the orthodox style that she has always favored, though not as much as Lacey likes, for the rest of round three.
Orthodoxy works, for it is the old and reliable, yet it is also that which is most figured out, for in its long history it has been analyzed by many fighters of every caliber; therefore it is also the most easily countered. A few remarks from her second and a shift in style has Vivian walling off Katie without sacrificing anything, and for her trouble Katie involuntarily bangs her head against Hsieh’s fist a couple of times. They are not enough to hurt her significantly, but enough to raise her ire are they; and in her wrath she throws more and more behind her punches until each is a haymaker, wild and furious, with all of her behind it. However they avail her not, and Vivian takes round four.
Round five has more of what was seen at the end of round four: wild power from Katie. And Hsieh seems cowed, reduced to dodging attacks. A cross from Katie, then a torpedo down low to try to catch the crouched Vivian, who hops away in response. Price follows up with more power, going around in a wide hook that catches nothing, and going high in an overhand in an attempt to catch the Asian popping back up.
From Lacey’s vantage point, five o’ clock relative to the Asian fighter, it seems that the overhead is on track to hit, for she is rising right into it, and it seems that the end of the match is in sight, for the blow had all of Katie’s power behind it, and Vivian could not take another hit like that in her opinion. Few fighters could.
Three feet from her face, and blazing closer by the millisecond.
Two feet, and in Katie’s eyes is reflected the Asian’s realization of her peril.
One foot, and the reflection is gone.
What?
The star of extinction gets as close as an inch, mayhaps less, from the face of Hsieh, but it does not hit, driven back as though by some divine providence, though it plainly is some anticipation on her part, obvious to Lacey though she could not see it. Katie’s head snaps back and her body follows, consciousness having utterly forsaken her. Vivian had prepared an uppercut as she was crouched, and now is unleashing it on the unprepared Price.
She falls, and Lacey finds herself tearing her own throat out in a shrill cry as Katie hits the mat, her head lolling and her body unresponsive. At two she remains out. At four, the same. At six, her eyes open, and almost robotically, she rolls onto all fours and attempts to rise. At nine she is up, like some sort of reanimated dead in the early zombie movies. The ref is worried, but waves the match forward. Katie goes right back in like the knockdown never occurred, and that is greatly heartening to her second.
But only momentarily so. Almost contemptuously Vivian slips aside, and merely pushes Katie over, who falls, yet rises again, and gets up only to be waved off by the referee who has seen enough.
As it turns out, the Price is Wrong.
Winner via TKO5: Vivian Hsieh!
(Words: Epic / Results: Lookout!)
Katie's stablemate and second Lacey Turner watches from the sidelines as she climbs into the ring. She was to face Vivian Hsieh tonight, a woman younger, curvier, and stronger if her records were anything to go by. Not under JMD rules, either, which was all Katie ever fought under, but under normal bantamweight rules. All signs spoke to defeat, and many warned her that taking the challenge was ill-advised; but Katie simply had shrugged in response and said:
"7-1 in her first year, so what? She's gone 2-7 in the last two. They say that she's one of the greats - pfft, I say she's washed up. How many charlatans surprise the league with a good start only to falter when their tricks are exhausted? Too many.”
She is unable to believe it, not truly. It sounds too much like Jenny Mac talking for her to swallow her doubts and qualms. She can only hope the Price is Right as Hsieh approaches the ring to louder applause. Here in the east few have heard of Katie, and support of the crowd played only too much in a boxer’s fighting will. Still, despite her misgivings, Katie Price appears unfazed going into a match with every disadvantage possible. The sight of Harumi Nemoto, who had defeated Katie years ago, whispering swift words into Vivian’s ear, who cuts a menacing figure in that black bikini of hers, puts another nail in Price’s metaphorical coffin.
That white bikini of hers will not stay white for very long, Turner thinks.
Round one proves her wrong, but not wrong enough for her to drop her worries. Katie goes for the jugs right from the onset, and Vivian seems to have not expected such a course of events; and Katie scores, securing control of the tempo of the match. Then she should have turned her attention to the head or stomach, targets where fists did more damage, Lacey thinks, but she remains fixated on the Asian’s breasts like it is JMD. Perhaps it is out of jealousy of her larger endowments. Perhaps that is the only way Price knew how to box. Perhaps that is simply the course she chose on a whim. That singular course soon grows predictable, and in response Vivian rallies, and staunchly walls her off, though she is unable to break Price’s defense. Katie’s early performance lets her take the round by a small margin.
“You realize this is not JMD, right?” Turner says to her as she slumps heavily onto her stool.
“Yeah. Just didn’t like her. Tryin’ to show ‘er, that’s all.”
“Ok, then. Hit her where it hurts.”
But in round two Vivian gives Katie a taste of her own medicine, shaking the rack with mostly hooks, sometimes mixing in the occasional uppercut. She gives ground to the Asian, conceding territory for space to dodge, rally, and recover, but she never gets the chance to make a comeback, as Vivian’s pressing assault keeps her moving backwards. The bell rings without too much action having occurred. Few blows hit the target this round, but Price is tiring while Vivian is not, and that is a truth plain to her and the opposition, who smile at her from the opposite corner of the ring.
Without her telling her, Katie seems to have figured out the meaning of their mirth for herself, and strives to close the match as quickly as she can, ramping up her assault and finally going for the head at last. Hsieh misjudges the approach of an uppercut, thinking it aimed for her breasts, and lays her defense too low. Katie’s glove sails between her arms and cleavage, just barely clipping her tits, going up high and ringing the doorbell, slamming into an open chin with savage force. The lights fade from her eyes, and her knees start folding, and gravity takes over…
But only for a heartbeat, and then it was like she was never gone in the first place. With a shake of her head Hsieh shakes off the fog and haze, and shores up her defense, not letting Price hit her like that again for the entire round. To do so, though, she abandons the defense of her periphery, and Price continues to dish out punishment in the orthodox style that she has always favored, though not as much as Lacey likes, for the rest of round three.
Orthodoxy works, for it is the old and reliable, yet it is also that which is most figured out, for in its long history it has been analyzed by many fighters of every caliber; therefore it is also the most easily countered. A few remarks from her second and a shift in style has Vivian walling off Katie without sacrificing anything, and for her trouble Katie involuntarily bangs her head against Hsieh’s fist a couple of times. They are not enough to hurt her significantly, but enough to raise her ire are they; and in her wrath she throws more and more behind her punches until each is a haymaker, wild and furious, with all of her behind it. However they avail her not, and Vivian takes round four.
Round five has more of what was seen at the end of round four: wild power from Katie. And Hsieh seems cowed, reduced to dodging attacks. A cross from Katie, then a torpedo down low to try to catch the crouched Vivian, who hops away in response. Price follows up with more power, going around in a wide hook that catches nothing, and going high in an overhand in an attempt to catch the Asian popping back up.
From Lacey’s vantage point, five o’ clock relative to the Asian fighter, it seems that the overhead is on track to hit, for she is rising right into it, and it seems that the end of the match is in sight, for the blow had all of Katie’s power behind it, and Vivian could not take another hit like that in her opinion. Few fighters could.
Three feet from her face, and blazing closer by the millisecond.
Two feet, and in Katie’s eyes is reflected the Asian’s realization of her peril.
One foot, and the reflection is gone.
What?
The star of extinction gets as close as an inch, mayhaps less, from the face of Hsieh, but it does not hit, driven back as though by some divine providence, though it plainly is some anticipation on her part, obvious to Lacey though she could not see it. Katie’s head snaps back and her body follows, consciousness having utterly forsaken her. Vivian had prepared an uppercut as she was crouched, and now is unleashing it on the unprepared Price.
She falls, and Lacey finds herself tearing her own throat out in a shrill cry as Katie hits the mat, her head lolling and her body unresponsive. At two she remains out. At four, the same. At six, her eyes open, and almost robotically, she rolls onto all fours and attempts to rise. At nine she is up, like some sort of reanimated dead in the early zombie movies. The ref is worried, but waves the match forward. Katie goes right back in like the knockdown never occurred, and that is greatly heartening to her second.
But only momentarily so. Almost contemptuously Vivian slips aside, and merely pushes Katie over, who falls, yet rises again, and gets up only to be waved off by the referee who has seen enough.
As it turns out, the Price is Wrong.
Winner via TKO5: Vivian Hsieh!