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#Post#: 1298--------------------------------------------------
Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
By: RampageSports Date: March 17, 2015, 10:15 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Note: Well, here's the big moment. Obviously, this part of the
story takes place at Open Fight Night, so most of us know how
the fight turned out. However, I made an effort to make it seem
like more of an evenly contested affair than what the sim
produced.
Enjoy. :)
Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
Click.
The cage door latches closed behind Steph... the last of the
corner personnel to leave. There's just the three of us now,
and referee AnnaLynne McCord signals Kristen and I to the center
of the cage to receive our final instructions.
I'm sometimes asked if the fighters pay any attention to what's
being said during this pre-fight ritual. The answer is no.
There is nothing McCord can say that either of us needs to hear.
The rules of the bout are the same as they always are. We know
them so well, we can recite the spiel ourselves.
So, why do it? Because it makes a good photo moment. While the
ref is talking, Kristen and I are supposed to make a show of
staring each other down... trying to intimidate each other. It
doesn't work, but Kristen sure makes it look good. She wears
her typical, stony-faced expression... the one that makes it
seem as though my mere presence is boring her to death. As if
I'm little more than an insignificant pest she's about to flick
off.
The look doesn't intimidate me, but it annoys the hell out of
me. Maybe because she's flicked me off with ease twice before.
I don't let it show, though.
I have a pretty good stony look of my own.
McCord waves us back to our home corners. Richelle, Danni,
Steph and Tiff are standing outside, leaning on the apron and
shouting instructions at me. News flash: I'm not listening to
them, either. They know that. Each of them has been where I
am. They know the instructions are useless. We've been
practicing day in and day out for weeks. I either have the
strategy down, or I don't. But seeing them there... watching
the intensity on their faces... it reminds me of the support I
have behind me. That's what's important.
The ref looks to each fighter to confirm we're ready and signals
the bout to begin.
Both of us move out of our corners, quickly finding the rhythm
we want. We circle left and close on each other, swirling our
way to the center of the cage. I move first, testing her
defense with my jab. She picks it up and turns into a wicked
right hand that I manage to slip as I slide to my right. I
launch a right hand of my own... my fist grazing her as she
moves right and dances away.
No damage done, but a lot of offense for the first exchange of
the fight. The message is clear to both of us: there won't be
any feeling out period in this one.
We come together again at the center, both of us more cautious.
I feint a few times to get her thinking, but she doesn't bite.
After a few seconds, she gets tired of waiting and paws at me
with her jab. I catch it and throw my right automatically...
following the plan. She gets a piece of it, but it sneaks
through and lands solidly on her cheek. She stands her ground
and looks to respond, firing the right hand again. Only I'm not
there. I retreat as soon as I pull by arm back, leaving her
with nothing to hit.
She resets her guard, throwing me a dirty look over the top of
her gloved fists. She didn't like that, and that makes me
happy.
All part of the plan.
She presses toward me, hoping to use the cage to corral me. I'm
not about to let that happen, and I circle left again. She's
forced to circle to keep me in front of her, and we end up near
the center, again. I throw the jab. She catches it and tries
the right again. I slide left and sneak the jab in around her
guard. She takes the punch and turns to square with me, but I
retreat. She pushes forward, determined to stay with me. I
stop, plant my feet and throw the right. It lands untouched,
snapping her head straight back. She goes defensive by
instinct, expecting me to follow-up. She pads her jab out to
keep me busy. Only, I'm not there. Again.
All part of the plan.
She resets and looks to me, her lips pressed into a thin line.
There's a fierceness in her eyes, and I know my strategy is
working.
I also know she's figured me out.
She comes at me again. I snap my jab. She catches it and
continues to press forward. I throw a right and try to slide to
my left. She eats the punch and continues forward, tying me up
before I can get free.
Uh, oh.
I try to stand my ground, but it's like trying to stop a
bulldozer. She methodically presses forward, backing me into
the fence. I push her low and clamp onto her neck. She buries
her chin against her chest, and I end up with my arm around her
head. She tries to squirm free, but I hold tight. She switches
tactics, hammering her right into my protected side. I maintain
the hold, and she slams her fist into me again. She can't get
her weight behind the punches, but they still hurt like hell. I
have to do something.
I loosen my grip, and she slips loose. As she comes upright, I
slam a right into the center of her face. She stands her
ground, refusing to let me off the fence. She catches me with
the jab, and turns into a short hook that slams into my side
again. Much more power behind it now, and I know I'm in
trouble. I throw the jab-right combo, sneaking both punches in
before she can get her guard up. I try to slide right, but she
catches me with a jab, then ties me up again. She's determined
to keep me here. She drives a knee toward my midsection, but I
turn and get a leg up to block it. She leans hard against me,
and I realize I'm trapped.
This is not part of the plan.
My mind is occupied by a single thought: Get off the f*cking
fence.
If I can't grapple my way free, there is only one other option.
I'm going to have to punch my way out.
I wrench my right free and loop a punch over the top of the
tangle, landing it solidly. She reaches up in an effort to
control my hand again, and I force my left knee into her belly,
putting as much on it as I can, given my poor position. I
repeat the move and she has to reposition herself to stop me
from doing it a third time. I see an opportunity and start to
slide left along the fence.
Suddenly, she abandons the clinch and comes up swinging. Jab...
straight right... both crash into my face. I force my way left,
and take yet another crushing hook to my side for my trouble. I
keep moving, getting my feet under me and escaping left...
circling around behind her.
The plan says I should back off and gain space... resetting for
another exchange. I decide to hell with the plan and stay put.
As Kristen turns to chase me, she is met by a front kick to the
center of her chest. She was totally unprepared for it, and the
force of the blow pushes her into the fence. She tries to
gather herself, but I'm all over her. Jab... she catches just
enough of it. Straight right... she's too slow and it finds
it's mark. Left hook... she had no chance... it gets around her
guard and whips her head to the side. I finish the combo with a
right uppercut, but she somehow manages to close her guard and
save herself from further damage.
She forces her way off the fence with another jab-right combo as
I back away. We both reset and prepare to go again when the
bell sounds to end the round.
We lower our guards and glare at each other. We've ended up
opposite our respective corners, and our shoulders touch as we
each cross the cage... neither breaking the stare until after
we've passed each other.
I said earlier that Kristen and I don't hate each. That's a
true statement... most of the time. We've run across each other
at awards ceremonies and other such functions. No problem.
We've even posed for photos together.
In this cage, though, we are opponents. We are brutal
competitors. We both want the same thing... to leave the other
broken and defeated on the canvas. Only one of us is going to
get what we want.
Outside this cage, we don't hate each other. Inside this cage,
we do.
#Post#: 1299--------------------------------------------------
Re: Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
By: RampageSports Date: March 17, 2015, 10:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
I make my way to the corner as our seconds come through the
door. Each of us gets three people to attend to us between
rounds... the cutman and two cornermen. Well, corner women, in
my case. Steph works the corner for just about everyone, the
exception being when she has a match of her own on the card.
Danni usually fills the void when that happens. The other slot
is filled by someone the fighter has personally selected. In my
case, Tiffany handles those duties. She and Steph came over to
me now, with Tiff carrying a stool for me to sit on. She sets
it down and I take a seat as they both offer instruction and
words of encouragement.
My overall strategy is not that complicated. Kristen isn't
known for her power, but she has a toughness to her that you
just can't teach. Couple that with her weight advantage, and it
becomes clear that standing toe-to-toe with her is not in my
best interest. The weight difference also gives her an
advantage in the clinch. That doesn't leave me with a lot of
options. So, the basic plan is to use my speed to get to her
from the outside, do some damage, then get the hell out of
there.
It was Richelle who first recognized the strategy would have an
added bonus. It would allow me to reverse the head games
Kristen had played on me in our first two fights. There is more
than one way to beat an opponent, and using Kristen's own
strategy against her had a revenge feel to it that I liked.
My job is to keep moving, take my shots when I see them and,
above all, be annoying. The strategy hinges on me getting the
right read on my opponent. If she plays things defensively, I
need to wait her out. If she comes in hell bent on destruction,
I need to counter and make her pay. Most importantly, I need to
stay focused and not get drawn into a bad position.
Like getting pinned against the fence.
I spit my mouth guard into my hand and turn to look at Richelle.
After all, it's her plan.
"It's working," Richelle says before I even have to ask.
I have an aching side and the cutman is working on a mouse
swelling under my right eye.
"It doesn't feel like it," I say.
"Well, stay off the fence, and it might feel better," she says.
"No problem," I snap. "Could you just go over there and tell
her to stick to the plan, too?"
Richelle smiles. "I think maybe she has a differing plan."
"That makes it a little harder," I say.
That draws another small smile.
The rest period is almost over. I stand and allow Tiffany to
remove the stool. Then, she and Steph file out along with
Kristen's group.
"I liked the 'f*ck you' combo at the end," Richelle says through
the side of the cage.
I slide my mouthpiece back in and smile wickedly around it.
I was particularly proud of the 'f*ck you' combo, myself.
McCord checks with both of us again, then signals the start of
the second round.
As we close on each other, I can see the first round took a toll
on Kristen, as well. She has some swelling under her left eye,
marking the spot where my right landed repeatedly. There's a
discoloration on the other side of her face where my hook had
gotten through. But the best part is the look on her face. I
wore her down early, but she knew she hurt me when she had me
pinned. That had her feeling better about things, but I turned
around and sapped that energy with the combo that landed just
before the bell.
Richelle's right. It's working.
I decide to test her... leading with the jab, then pivoting into
a hook to the body. She catches the jab, and slides left. The
hook lands, but her movement takes away it's power. She tries
to catch me with her right, but I slip it... her fist nipping my
ear as it goes by. I back up a step and circle, very aware of
how lucky I'd just been.
Clearly, she was nowhere near finished.
She stalks after me... angry that she missed her chance. I keep
circling, but she's determined. She sprints forward suddenly,
cutting me off. We clinch and I fire a knee to her body. It
lands with a thud, but she keeps pushing. I catch my balance
and throw the knee again. She takes it and keeps pushing. A
third knee hits home, but she just keeps coming.
As the mesh bites into my back, I realize I'm in trouble. She's
tired, angry and frustrated, but she has me pinned.
And she's sick of my sh*t.
I start punching as soon as I hit the screen. The jab catches
her on the shoulder, while a short right hook pounds into her
gut. It makes no difference. She snaps my head back with the
jab, and dazes me with a straight right. I get defensive...
grabbing at her hands to try and control her. She shakes the
right free and slams it into my face again. I stumble and she
surges forward. Left hook, right hook... both sink deep into my
abdomen. I back her off with my jab, but she comes again...
landing a heavy knee to my body. I grapple with her and try to
clinch. She gets the right hand free again and fires. I turn
her just enough to let me slip it.
I throw the jab... got her. Follow with the right... got her
again.
She's given up on defense, trying to finish me with everything
she has.
I slip the right again and take a left to my stomach. Another
right to the body almost doubles me over.
I can't take much more of this.
Another left to my gut... she probably could have finished me
right there. But, she gets greedy and goes for it all at once.
She steps back and unloads a huge right hook that would have put
me out, for sure. But, I duck under it, hit her with a short
right to the stomach and slip way.
She turns to face me... a flash of fury in her eyes. I know
it's not me she's mad at. She's angry with herself for letting
me escape. But, it makes no difference as far as I'm concerned.
It's still me she wants to pummel.
She tries to corner me again. I circle left... left... she
moves to cut me off. I hit her with the jab and switch
directions, moving back to my right. She tries to catch me with
a right hand, but she's a step too slow, and I'm gone, again.
I back away and reset my stance. Kristen doesn't follow. She
seems content to bide her time while she tries to figure out a
way to trap me, again. I'm not inclined to give her that time.
I close on her, throwing the jab from the absolute limit of my
range. She catches it easily, and keeps her guard tight...
seemingly ready for anything. But, she's wrong about that.
I duck low and charge into her, my head coming up under her left
arm as I wrap my arms around her midsection. Then, I straighten
up and, using her arm as leverage, I force her over to her
right. I finish the move by sweeping her right leg out from
under her, and down she goes.
There's no logical way I should have succeeded. First of all,
she's heavier than I am. Moving her should have been more
difficult. On top of that, I haven't attempted a takedown
since... well, possibly forever.
That second part was the key to success. This is just not
something I do. In fact, it wasn't even my idea. It was Steph
who made the suggestion, saying it would catch Kristen
completely off guard. There was no arguing with her, there. No
amount of scouting or video could have prepared Kristen for what
I'd just done. It was widely known that I preferred to fight on
my feet. Defending a takedown had to be the furthest thing from
her mind.
On the other hand, there's a reason takedowns are not part of my
usual approach. My ground game consists almost entirely of
finding a way to survive until the ref stands us back up. There
was little chance I was going to do much damage this way, and
zero chance I'd be able to finish her. I mentioned these facts
to Steph, but she pointed out that groundwork is good for more
than just submissions.
Kristen is so shocked by my move that I'm past her guard before
she has a chance to react. I try a few punches, but she gets
her guard up and tangles up my hands. I grab her arm and try to
pull it straight as I move beside her. I'm not able to get the
leverage I need for the arm bar, but I have no trouble gaining
side control on her. I land a few clean elbows before she gets
her arm behind me... squeezing me in close so I can't get any
power. I immediately change tactics and grab at her leg. She
gives a panicked squirm as she fights to keep me from getting a
hold on her, and I break free from her grasp and move to a
position above her head. I pound blow after blow into her
midsection as she tries to figure out what the hell my plan is,
and that's the big secret. I have no plan. I just want to
maintain control and make her work as hard as I can.
I change tactics again and pass an arm under her head... looping
it around her neck and squeezing. She knows what's happening,
and saves herself just time. I lock the choke in as tight as I
can, but she gets her head turned and buries her chin to her
chest. She struggles and thrashes, trying to work free. I hold
on tight, unable to sink the choke in for the finish.
After a few minutes, McCord decides we're at a standstill. She
separates us and gets us back on our feet.
As far as I can tell, my plan worked. Kristen looks worn... her
hair undone and flying wildly as a result of her struggles on
the mat. Her chest is heaving as she tries to recover the
precious oxygen she expended defending herself.
Meanwhile, the ground work has bought me a little time to
recover from the hammering she'd laid on me when she had me on
the fence.
Just as the ref signals the fight to resume, the bell sounds to
end the round.
I watch her retreat back to her corner, but she makes no effort
to stare me down, this time.
She collapses onto her stool as her seconds swarm around her.
Only one round to go. And it feels like I'm winning.
#Post#: 1300--------------------------------------------------
Re: Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
By: RampageSports Date: March 17, 2015, 10:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
I make my way to the my corner, and sit down heavily. My legs
feel like rubber, and my body is battered and sore.
So, I may be winning, but it's not by much.
Steph and Tiffany say little, as Richelle breaks in immediately.
"She's ready," she says of Kristen. "Just be careful."
"Don't know if you've noticed," I say, "but I'm not doing much
better than she is."
"Yeah," she answers, "but you always have a little something
left."
I nod as I hear my own words thrown back at me. I look over at
my opponent.
I can do this. I have to.
"Take it, Emma," Richelle says. "Don't let it go to the cards."
I nod without looking back.
She's right. I'm not going to leave this in the hands of the
judges.
I have to finish it.
The extras clear out and McCord checks in with each us for the
final time. Once we've both confirmed we're ready, she starts
the third and last round of the fight.
We close on each other, and I eye her warily. She has to know
she how tired she is. She's going to take her shots as soon as
she can, hoping to get lucky early.
She attacks as soon as I'm in range, forsaking the jab and
launching the right, instead. She pushes it heavily, and I slip
it with ease. I pound home a right of my own, then dance away.
Her desperation ratchets up a notch on the next exchange. As
soon as I'm close enough, she launches a heavy combination.
Jab, right, left hook, uppercut. She's committed to the whole
combo right from the start, counting on me to make a mistake and
let one of the killer punches connect.
I catch the jab easily and back out of range, letting her expend
precious energy on the wasted punches. Then, I swarm back in.
I snap a jab that connects with ease. She's badly out of
position and had no hope of guarding it. She tries to cover up
before I hit her again, but I slide left and hook a punch to her
face from an odd angle. Again, she can't stop me. I lean right
and hit her with a solid hook to the abdomen, then retreat
before she can launch an attack of her own.
I circle left. She tries to follow, and then suddenly steps to
her right... cutting me off as she throws the jab. I block it,
make her pay with a jab of my own, then reverse directions and
escape to my right.
She plods after me, her legs heavy with fatigue. I keep moving
right... an odd choice for a right-handed fighter. But, since
we both favor the right, it gives her no advantage. And I have
a plan to try something a little different.
She takes a step left as we circle, cutting me off again.
There's room for me to reverse directions, but I plant and throw
the jab, instead. She brings her guard up, catching it cleanly
and readying herself for the right to follow. Only, I don't
throw it. I dip over to my left behind the jab, and turn my
weight into a vicious hook that pounds into her right side. I
hear her grunt as it lands, and I know that Steph has to be
smiling right about now.
The move was something we've been working on for a while. She
calls it 'hooking off the jab.' It wasn't new to me. I had
learned it early in my career, but I hadn't had much success
with it. Steph... along with Tiffany... have helped me perfect
it over the course of this past year.
Plus, now I have a cool name for it, too.
The body shot seems to take the last bit of life out of her.
She raises her guard, but there's no more rhythm to her
movements. She turns steadily to keep me in front of her, but
no longer tries to advance on me... the heart seemingly drained
from her body.
I close on her, intent on finishing it.
As I get in range, she suddenly comes to life. She dips right
then turns into a right hook that seems to start somewhere near
her toes. The blow has every ounce of strength she has left in
it. Her last desperate attempt to turn things around.
I lean away as her gloved fist whips by less than an inch from
my face.
I would realize later just how close I had come to losing this
fight.
I flash the jab, then throw the right. She tries to bring her
guard up, but exhaustion has made her too slow. Both shots hit
home. I fake the jab and dip right, getting my weight behind a
right to the body. She makes almost no effort to stop it. Jab,
right, left hook. Her head slams back, left, then right again
as all three land untouched. She stumbles away into the
screening.
I set my stance and wait.
She gathers herself and, with an almost Herculean effort, heaves
herself off the fence. I turn, plant and spin into a merciless
high kick. She sees it coming. She tries to lean away. But
there's nowhere for her to go. The kick lands flush, and she's
out instantly. She collapses to the canvas like a ragdoll.
McCord jumps in... throwing her body over Kristen's to keep me
from hitting her again. But I never move to attack. I know
it's over the second the kick connects.
The bell rings and the cage door opens instantly. First into
the octagon is the medical staff, who move directly to Kristen.
Our respective teams stream in behind.
As the adrenaline drains away, it's replaced by overwhelming
fatigue. My legs threaten to collapse out from under me... and
they might have, had Tiff and Stephanie not gotten there so
quickly. They basically hold me up until I gather my strength
and get my bearings.
After tending to Kristen, a few members of the medical team come
over and check on me. They're quickly satisfied that I'm not in
any immediate medical danger. The full checkout will come
later.
By the time they finish, Kristen is back on her feet. I make my
way over to her slowly, waiting patiently as the crowd clears in
front of me. When I finally reach her, we hug... the shared
hatred behind us, once again.
"You okay?" I ask her.
"That depends," she says. "Why are there three of you?"
I smile. I know she's joking, but I also know what she's
feeling. When a fighter gets knocked out, fans think of that as
just part of the sport. They're right, but there's no way to
explain the experience of waking up with your skull pounding and
the ring lights burning your eyes and a team of strangers
looming over you asking how many god damn fingers you see.
Being knocked unconscious means you were hit so hard, your brain
basically turned itself off to avoid damage. It takes a long
time to recover from something like that. Smelling salts might
wake you up and get you back on your feet, but that doesn't mean
everything is suddenly fine.
"You got me this time," she says.
"You didn't make it easy," I reply. "And that hook at the
end..."
"Almost," she says. "I almost caught you napping."
I nod. "You're pretty tough," I say, "for a vampire."
"You witches think you're such hot sh*t," she scoffs.
We laugh a little, but not too much. Wouldn't want to give the
fans the wrong impression.
We return to our respective corners until McCord calls us to the
center for the official announcement.
For the first time in this rivalry, I hear my name called as the
winner while the ref holds my hand in the air.
It's about f*cking time.
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Emma_100x120.jpg
Name: Emma Watson
Nickname(s):
Background: Reigning FAC featherweight champion, training
partner and romantic partner of Tiffany Mulheron
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Stephanie_100x120.jpg
Name: Stephanie McMahon
Nickname(s): Steph
Background: RSI's fighter development coordinator, former DEF
super heavyweight champion, current SCQ super heavyweight
contender
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Tiffany_100x120.jpg
Name: Tiffany Mulheron
Nickname(s): Tiff
Background: Reigning ESL featherweight champion, training
partner and romantic partner of Emma Watson
#Post#: 1301--------------------------------------------------
Re: Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
By: Dragons Den Date: March 18, 2015, 7:06 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
That was brilliant! Loved it. Well done. And congrats to Emma.
What a win! That's shaping up to be a good rivalry!
#Post#: 1302--------------------------------------------------
Re: Driven To Win - Chapter 3 - Game Time
By: RampageSports Date: March 19, 2015, 7:18 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Thanks Dragon. :)
This is kind of a weird rivalry. Since Emma and Kristen are in
different weight classes, they don't meet up very often. But, I
consider that a good thing. Now that Kristen is with Foxfire, I
have this feeling her career is going to be on the upswing. i
think Emma's life is about to get a whole lot harder. ;)
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