Post by Lookout! Boxing on Aug 25, 2023 22:31:09 GMT -6
Natalie Portman vs. Madison Beer
Hawkeye International vs. Independent
Natalie: 42 yo, 5’3” 98-59-2 with 63 KOs vs Madison: 24 yo, 5’5”, 15-14 with 15 KOs
Results: Lookout. Story: Hawkeye
NATALIE PORTMAN
MADISON BEER
BEFORE: Rumors rampant Natalie bulking up for her turn as Thor short-circuited her wiry, wily delivery and has contributed mightily to a run of two wins and five losses in her last seven. Looking buff and a smooth boxing style aren’t always compatible, particularly at flyweight, so the Consortium is eager to see what a slimmed down Portman will mean. Losing to stablemate Dove and rock’em sock’em Billie Eilish shows Nat’s not falling to tomato cans, but it’s hardly solace for the Harvard grad.
“Look. The clock’s ticking. I know that better than anyone. And it’s not a short road back to one last run of contention. Beer’s lost her ride but being independent suits her. She’s pasting some no names to keep herself relevant. It’s not a bad idea to get a chance at a big name when you’ve got no management. But Madison. Beware what you ask for. You’re not boxing a chess player anymore. You’re fighting a boxer who plays chess in the ring.”
The Consortium suits are grim-faced. They know a loss in this one is extremely bad news for a Hall of Famer trying to stay relevant at the top of the division. And Madison has a lot of tools for someone not under contract. Her Lookout! background has lumps in throats at HISC.
On the opposite dais is an ebullient brunette who looks like she’s got the biggest fight of her career…because she does. Madison got tossed to the curb by Lookout! amidst the horror show that was her 2022, going winless against top-flight talent. This year’s been boosted by a more personally molded schedule, but it’s also seen a couple failures when she stepped up in comp. If the young, limber pugilist wants to get signed, these are the matches she needs to win and make clear she’s too good to pass up for a rising organization with designs on the diminutive division.
“24 and 42 isn’t just a matter of transposing numbers. That’s a generation between me and Miss Portman. And I’ll tell you what. When I beat her, nobody should call it an upset. I’m on the way up. She’s headed in the opposite direction. There’s only so long you can fight the truth and I’m coming with some cold hard facts tonight.” Madison holds up her gloves and gives each a smooch in turn. “If HISC is wants to continue getting younger and more talented, gimme a ring after this one.”
Madison is in a particularly eye-catching metallic gold tanktop and bikini bottoms. Black accents are included, namely a strip at the bottom of her top and vice versa. Gunmetal gloves, boots and pads finish the gear. Maddy’s dark mane is swept back and tied in a loose bun at the top with loose strands tumbling to her shoulders.
Portman’s sporting the iconic black and yellow-gold of Hawkeye International, though the legend’s changed things up with vertical stripes on her bikini top and boy-cut spandex. Black and gold gloves, gold pads and boots complete the wardrobe. Natalie’s locks are parted on the right and drawn neatly into a ponytail, the Sweet Scientist ready to take her student to the lab.
R1: The women show no hesitation, engaging mid-ring a few seconds removed from the bell. While Madison seems content to feel her way early, a focused Nat is clinical. She snapping leather between a high guard, Beer’s head buffeted with perky lefts. A minute in, Natalie releases the hounds with a whippet right cross detouring around the youngster’s defenses and rocketing into her left cheek. A hop and stumble in the opposite direction trips the veteran’s trigger and she sets upon Madison like a Queen Bee in need of nectar. Portman likes her Beer on tap, mugging tasty jugg. The gurls are jumping from the Ivy Leaguer’s uppercuts to Maddy’s chest. Madison’s trying to respond but when she opens up to try, the comely brunette is punished with wicked accuracy and offering only crowd-pleasing head snaps in return. Portman’s throwing a party and all the fans following her for twenty-plus are invited. Beer’s running out the round. Not a good look for the first. But who can blame her. Vintage Portman is a sight to behold and poor Madison is getting an up close and personal look, Natalie taking the first stanza wide.
R2: Madison shows her energy. If she’s going down, it’s swinging. She tosses leather mid-ring with Portman and she’s keeping Natalie on the defensive with her busy hands. Maddy’s firing at chest and chin. Most of her shots are blocked by the sterling defense of the veteran, but she’s keeping Nat on the back foot. Every time Natalie tries to counter, her fellow brunette doubles up and shuts Natalie down. Madison catches Nat clean with a filthy right to the jaw when Portman shows some impatience and Beer pours down on her foe, crispy one-twos showing her physicality. And Nat’s in retreat. It’s measured and Madison knows better than to throw all caution to the wind, but the younger woman is racking up points with pinpoint jabs as she tracks down the Hall of Famer. Nat’s face is pinched in pain and frustration. It’s not going to be a free ride tonight as Maddy walks back to her stool with the round in her column.
R3: No change from the youthful Beer. She forces leather in Natalie’s grill, popping lefts into nose and pouting lips, breaking through the cage of raised forearms. Nat shows some frustration. She’s anchored, letting Madison rotate around her, Beer flicking those nasty ticket-punchers to her adversary’s beak. Experience tells you the Ivy Leaguer’s mental wheels are spinning. She starts to bob beneath Maddy’s fire, ducking under and digging piston-like right-lefts to Madison’s taut tummy. Nat pushes the crown of her head into Beer’s bosom and thumps away from close range, rattling the youngster’s ribs on either side. Beer’s getting a little breathy from the abuse. She’s pushing Nat off and catching Portman’s rack when Natalie closes back in, but Portman’s finding a rhythm with the meaty thwack-groans from her gut shots. At the bell, Madison is grimacing. She’s holding up well, but this one went Natalie’s way close on points.
R4: Uh oh. Madison’s not messing around. She’s aggressive and accurate, a potentially lethal combination. Beer blasts through Natalie’s defenses with disregard. She’s plowing fists into Ivy League jugg and has the Harvard grad bleating through her mouthguard. Inevitably, Natalie’s cover lowers ever so slightly to try and end the accumulation and a pernicious path is gouged by a resplendent Madison. She’s got Portman’s head on a swivel, rocking her elder like a precious filly bucking her aging jockey. The crowd moves to the edge of their seats as Beer is swatting away or working through ‘don’t hurt me’ jabs, Nat giving ground in bunches and taking punches the same way. Impressive stuff from Madison. If she’s trying to burnish her resume for a contract, it’s working, as a rocket right hand hits flush and has Nat stepping in fencepost holes. HISC corner screaming at Portman to cover. Madison bullies Natalie to a corner and bruises Portman black and blue, but Natalie’s surviving. She fires back a couple times, making Beer at least consider potential counters. It’s enough to avoid a shutout at the bell, but Madison takes the round wide with this level of command and the cards are even through four.
R5: If there was any trepidation on Madison’s part early, it’s gone. She steps directly to Portman having proven to herself she’s every bit the fighter the fortysomething is. But Nat’s still around for a reason and she tags an incoming Madison with a taste of leather on the lips, Portman landing a straight right, then jacking jaw with a sweeping left hook. Madison’s young legs hold her steady despite the ferocity of the blows and she returns fire, pounding gutbusters into Nat’s ivory abs and slipping an uppercut right to the chin that has Portman on her heels. Forward march Madison. Beer wades in, wanting to take control, but a fierce right-hand counter between the eyes stops the advance. With the fans clearly enjoying the two-way action, the brunettes, young and less young, are pot-shotting now and it’s a damn fine show. Defense is optional and it’s surfacing on both sides. Madison rocks the Hall of Famer, Natalie slumped in the ropes after a series of nasty connections from both hands, but Portman fights her way off a seat on the rubber-coated steel, countering and collecting a bill. Madison just catches herself from a knockdown when Nat BOOMS a right cross that spins Beer into a u-turn and piles on. The end of the round sees the crowd on its feet, appreciating the extraordinary effort. It’s no surprise the cards come back a draw for the round, the judges unable to separate between the incredible O and/or terrible D from each fighter.
R6: Madison is unrelenting. The high stakes all-in from both sides during the previous round has the youngster buzzing and she’s taking it to Natalie out of the box. Beer is poking with her left, using the jabs as rangefinders, then buffeting with heatseeking rights to the chest that have Portman flinching after several thick impacts to Nat’s gurls. With Portman backing away, face pinching in pain, Madison throws a poleax of a right and…BOOOM…a slippery Portman shifts under the swing and JAWJACKS Beer with a left uppercut that has the crowd ‘oooohing’. Madison’s tawny legs shimmy. Nat leaps at her foe with a follow-up combination to each jawline AND MADISON TAKES A SEAT. A dazed Beer stares blankly up at a hovering Natalie, the official quickly trundling Portman to a neutral corner. Returning to the seated Beer, Madison’s palms on the deck keeping her from reclining fully, the ref starts his count, reaching ‘SIX’ before Madison pushes up to a knee and beats the ten with a second to spare. The official checks Maddy’s condition. Beer responds soberly with a nod and he waves the Ivy Leaguer on. A limber-limbed Natalie sets upon the wide-eyed Beer, Portman ignoring the loose defense of her adversary. Nat plows in right and lefts in terrible tandem, battering Beer from side to side while backing Madison into the ropes. With Beer’s legs quaking and arms limp at her sides after the further Portman pounding, THE REF JUMPS IN, Madison unable to defend herself. The clinical Natalie forces the official to wave things off with a brutal assault that leaves Beer slumped in his protection. Natalie turns to celebrate with her corner while the ref helps a punchdrunk Madison to hers, NATALIE PORTMAN CLAIMING A TKO6 VICTORY!
AFTER: Signs of relief more than shouts of joy from the Consortium corner crew, but don’t tell Natalie not to celebrate. She just beat an unintimidated athlete who brought it like she was looking for a roster spot. Nat gives a little recovery time to Madison before striding to her post-match target.
Portman lifts Beer off her stool and gives her a hug. Chins on shoulders, the two converse in whispers, Madison nodding in response to Natalie’s missive. The glistening Hall of Famer, moving within one win of her 100th, separates and pats a slumping Madison on the top of her noggin before departing with a beatific smile.
“Any young woman who’s out there on her own, scrapping to find her place, showing me she’s got plenty to do just that, I’m not interested in break her spirit,” Portman says later. “Somebody get her under contract, then maybe I’ll leave her a wrecked, tummied mess after,” Natalie jokes. Maybe.
Hawkeye International vs. Independent
Natalie: 42 yo, 5’3” 98-59-2 with 63 KOs vs Madison: 24 yo, 5’5”, 15-14 with 15 KOs
Results: Lookout. Story: Hawkeye
NATALIE PORTMAN
MADISON BEER
BEFORE: Rumors rampant Natalie bulking up for her turn as Thor short-circuited her wiry, wily delivery and has contributed mightily to a run of two wins and five losses in her last seven. Looking buff and a smooth boxing style aren’t always compatible, particularly at flyweight, so the Consortium is eager to see what a slimmed down Portman will mean. Losing to stablemate Dove and rock’em sock’em Billie Eilish shows Nat’s not falling to tomato cans, but it’s hardly solace for the Harvard grad.
“Look. The clock’s ticking. I know that better than anyone. And it’s not a short road back to one last run of contention. Beer’s lost her ride but being independent suits her. She’s pasting some no names to keep herself relevant. It’s not a bad idea to get a chance at a big name when you’ve got no management. But Madison. Beware what you ask for. You’re not boxing a chess player anymore. You’re fighting a boxer who plays chess in the ring.”
The Consortium suits are grim-faced. They know a loss in this one is extremely bad news for a Hall of Famer trying to stay relevant at the top of the division. And Madison has a lot of tools for someone not under contract. Her Lookout! background has lumps in throats at HISC.
On the opposite dais is an ebullient brunette who looks like she’s got the biggest fight of her career…because she does. Madison got tossed to the curb by Lookout! amidst the horror show that was her 2022, going winless against top-flight talent. This year’s been boosted by a more personally molded schedule, but it’s also seen a couple failures when she stepped up in comp. If the young, limber pugilist wants to get signed, these are the matches she needs to win and make clear she’s too good to pass up for a rising organization with designs on the diminutive division.
“24 and 42 isn’t just a matter of transposing numbers. That’s a generation between me and Miss Portman. And I’ll tell you what. When I beat her, nobody should call it an upset. I’m on the way up. She’s headed in the opposite direction. There’s only so long you can fight the truth and I’m coming with some cold hard facts tonight.” Madison holds up her gloves and gives each a smooch in turn. “If HISC is wants to continue getting younger and more talented, gimme a ring after this one.”
Madison is in a particularly eye-catching metallic gold tanktop and bikini bottoms. Black accents are included, namely a strip at the bottom of her top and vice versa. Gunmetal gloves, boots and pads finish the gear. Maddy’s dark mane is swept back and tied in a loose bun at the top with loose strands tumbling to her shoulders.
Portman’s sporting the iconic black and yellow-gold of Hawkeye International, though the legend’s changed things up with vertical stripes on her bikini top and boy-cut spandex. Black and gold gloves, gold pads and boots complete the wardrobe. Natalie’s locks are parted on the right and drawn neatly into a ponytail, the Sweet Scientist ready to take her student to the lab.
R1: The women show no hesitation, engaging mid-ring a few seconds removed from the bell. While Madison seems content to feel her way early, a focused Nat is clinical. She snapping leather between a high guard, Beer’s head buffeted with perky lefts. A minute in, Natalie releases the hounds with a whippet right cross detouring around the youngster’s defenses and rocketing into her left cheek. A hop and stumble in the opposite direction trips the veteran’s trigger and she sets upon Madison like a Queen Bee in need of nectar. Portman likes her Beer on tap, mugging tasty jugg. The gurls are jumping from the Ivy Leaguer’s uppercuts to Maddy’s chest. Madison’s trying to respond but when she opens up to try, the comely brunette is punished with wicked accuracy and offering only crowd-pleasing head snaps in return. Portman’s throwing a party and all the fans following her for twenty-plus are invited. Beer’s running out the round. Not a good look for the first. But who can blame her. Vintage Portman is a sight to behold and poor Madison is getting an up close and personal look, Natalie taking the first stanza wide.
R2: Madison shows her energy. If she’s going down, it’s swinging. She tosses leather mid-ring with Portman and she’s keeping Natalie on the defensive with her busy hands. Maddy’s firing at chest and chin. Most of her shots are blocked by the sterling defense of the veteran, but she’s keeping Nat on the back foot. Every time Natalie tries to counter, her fellow brunette doubles up and shuts Natalie down. Madison catches Nat clean with a filthy right to the jaw when Portman shows some impatience and Beer pours down on her foe, crispy one-twos showing her physicality. And Nat’s in retreat. It’s measured and Madison knows better than to throw all caution to the wind, but the younger woman is racking up points with pinpoint jabs as she tracks down the Hall of Famer. Nat’s face is pinched in pain and frustration. It’s not going to be a free ride tonight as Maddy walks back to her stool with the round in her column.
R3: No change from the youthful Beer. She forces leather in Natalie’s grill, popping lefts into nose and pouting lips, breaking through the cage of raised forearms. Nat shows some frustration. She’s anchored, letting Madison rotate around her, Beer flicking those nasty ticket-punchers to her adversary’s beak. Experience tells you the Ivy Leaguer’s mental wheels are spinning. She starts to bob beneath Maddy’s fire, ducking under and digging piston-like right-lefts to Madison’s taut tummy. Nat pushes the crown of her head into Beer’s bosom and thumps away from close range, rattling the youngster’s ribs on either side. Beer’s getting a little breathy from the abuse. She’s pushing Nat off and catching Portman’s rack when Natalie closes back in, but Portman’s finding a rhythm with the meaty thwack-groans from her gut shots. At the bell, Madison is grimacing. She’s holding up well, but this one went Natalie’s way close on points.
R4: Uh oh. Madison’s not messing around. She’s aggressive and accurate, a potentially lethal combination. Beer blasts through Natalie’s defenses with disregard. She’s plowing fists into Ivy League jugg and has the Harvard grad bleating through her mouthguard. Inevitably, Natalie’s cover lowers ever so slightly to try and end the accumulation and a pernicious path is gouged by a resplendent Madison. She’s got Portman’s head on a swivel, rocking her elder like a precious filly bucking her aging jockey. The crowd moves to the edge of their seats as Beer is swatting away or working through ‘don’t hurt me’ jabs, Nat giving ground in bunches and taking punches the same way. Impressive stuff from Madison. If she’s trying to burnish her resume for a contract, it’s working, as a rocket right hand hits flush and has Nat stepping in fencepost holes. HISC corner screaming at Portman to cover. Madison bullies Natalie to a corner and bruises Portman black and blue, but Natalie’s surviving. She fires back a couple times, making Beer at least consider potential counters. It’s enough to avoid a shutout at the bell, but Madison takes the round wide with this level of command and the cards are even through four.
R5: If there was any trepidation on Madison’s part early, it’s gone. She steps directly to Portman having proven to herself she’s every bit the fighter the fortysomething is. But Nat’s still around for a reason and she tags an incoming Madison with a taste of leather on the lips, Portman landing a straight right, then jacking jaw with a sweeping left hook. Madison’s young legs hold her steady despite the ferocity of the blows and she returns fire, pounding gutbusters into Nat’s ivory abs and slipping an uppercut right to the chin that has Portman on her heels. Forward march Madison. Beer wades in, wanting to take control, but a fierce right-hand counter between the eyes stops the advance. With the fans clearly enjoying the two-way action, the brunettes, young and less young, are pot-shotting now and it’s a damn fine show. Defense is optional and it’s surfacing on both sides. Madison rocks the Hall of Famer, Natalie slumped in the ropes after a series of nasty connections from both hands, but Portman fights her way off a seat on the rubber-coated steel, countering and collecting a bill. Madison just catches herself from a knockdown when Nat BOOMS a right cross that spins Beer into a u-turn and piles on. The end of the round sees the crowd on its feet, appreciating the extraordinary effort. It’s no surprise the cards come back a draw for the round, the judges unable to separate between the incredible O and/or terrible D from each fighter.
R6: Madison is unrelenting. The high stakes all-in from both sides during the previous round has the youngster buzzing and she’s taking it to Natalie out of the box. Beer is poking with her left, using the jabs as rangefinders, then buffeting with heatseeking rights to the chest that have Portman flinching after several thick impacts to Nat’s gurls. With Portman backing away, face pinching in pain, Madison throws a poleax of a right and…BOOOM…a slippery Portman shifts under the swing and JAWJACKS Beer with a left uppercut that has the crowd ‘oooohing’. Madison’s tawny legs shimmy. Nat leaps at her foe with a follow-up combination to each jawline AND MADISON TAKES A SEAT. A dazed Beer stares blankly up at a hovering Natalie, the official quickly trundling Portman to a neutral corner. Returning to the seated Beer, Madison’s palms on the deck keeping her from reclining fully, the ref starts his count, reaching ‘SIX’ before Madison pushes up to a knee and beats the ten with a second to spare. The official checks Maddy’s condition. Beer responds soberly with a nod and he waves the Ivy Leaguer on. A limber-limbed Natalie sets upon the wide-eyed Beer, Portman ignoring the loose defense of her adversary. Nat plows in right and lefts in terrible tandem, battering Beer from side to side while backing Madison into the ropes. With Beer’s legs quaking and arms limp at her sides after the further Portman pounding, THE REF JUMPS IN, Madison unable to defend herself. The clinical Natalie forces the official to wave things off with a brutal assault that leaves Beer slumped in his protection. Natalie turns to celebrate with her corner while the ref helps a punchdrunk Madison to hers, NATALIE PORTMAN CLAIMING A TKO6 VICTORY!
AFTER: Signs of relief more than shouts of joy from the Consortium corner crew, but don’t tell Natalie not to celebrate. She just beat an unintimidated athlete who brought it like she was looking for a roster spot. Nat gives a little recovery time to Madison before striding to her post-match target.
Portman lifts Beer off her stool and gives her a hug. Chins on shoulders, the two converse in whispers, Madison nodding in response to Natalie’s missive. The glistening Hall of Famer, moving within one win of her 100th, separates and pats a slumping Madison on the top of her noggin before departing with a beatific smile.
“Any young woman who’s out there on her own, scrapping to find her place, showing me she’s got plenty to do just that, I’m not interested in break her spirit,” Portman says later. “Somebody get her under contract, then maybe I’ll leave her a wrecked, tummied mess after,” Natalie jokes. Maybe.