This story is the continuation of "The first timers - part 2" which I posted in the wrestling section earlier today.
Finally, the time had come to settle the score with the Irish woman who had been my first ever opponent when I joined CLAWS, 35 years ago. In a few months’ time we would both be 60 and giving up fighting but, before that, it was time to decide once and for all who the better woman was.
Lesley O’Dowd was the younger sister of Annie O’Dowd, one of the founders of CLAWS. Annie went on to become a successful professional wrestler in north America and now lives in California. Lesley herself and tried out for CLAWS at the same time that I did and we were paired in a trial match.
She came very close to beating me by cheating and in the process got me riled up. In the end, when she thought she had me almost beaten, I exploded and beat the hell out of her. She left CLAWS with her tail between her legs and it would be years before I saw her again.
Out of the blue, in the height of the pandemic first lockdown, I received a text message challenging me to a fight. I had no idea who it was at that stage, or even when we got into the ring for a private strip boxing match that Gabi had arranged for us in August 2020. Once again, Lesley almost beat me, and once again it was her arrogant attitude that spurred me on as I rallied and ultimately won the fight. On that occasion, we enjoyed each other’s company after the fight as well. Although I won the fight, I never felt in control of Lesley, either in the ring or in the chill out zone later.
The next time I encountered her was just a few weeks later at Sian’s where she caught me unawares early on a Sunday morning, challenged me to fight her in the barn and beat the living daylights out of me.
A fourth, more recent encounter had been on her home turf at her ‘fighting house’ on the static caravan park she owned with her husband just a short distance down the coast from where I lived. On that occasion, four of us fought each other over three days and Lesley did everything in her power to psych me out and ensure her win. When I finally faced her in the ring at the fighting house, I was mentally already beaten. Sure enough, the inevitable happened and, after she knocked me out, she humiliated me further by straddling me and pissing in my face
Tonight would be our final encounter. Lesley had heard that I was planning to retire from the ring and had challenged me to another boxing match. Tonight’s match would take place at CLAWS in the ring room with a full audience. It would be the first time that Lesley and I had fought in public. The match had been added to the card for the first round of the senior wrestling tournament. I would be in the blue corner with my protégés, Lynne and Sue, and my dear friend, Terri, all of whom were who were competing in the tournament.
On home turf, with a crowd behind me and having spent two months honing my boxing skills sparring with Terri and Nat, I was feeling a lot more confident than I had in my previous encounters with Lesley.
My corner woman duties over for the evening, I stepped into the blue corner and Terri helped me put my gloves on as Lesley, seconded by Helen, Pauline’s friend who I’d also fought at Lesley’s, stepped through the ropes into the red corner. As we made our preparations, Gabi also took over refereeing duties from Clare and announced to the audience:
“Ladies and gentlemen, our final bout of the evening is a boxing challenge match between…In the red corner, standing 5’10”, weighing 155lbs, 59 years of age and measuring 36E-28-40 – Lesley O’Dowd!”
Lesley raised her arms before slipping off her robe to reveal an emerald green thong that matched her gloves and showed off her firm butt cheeks.
“And in the blue corner, standing 5’7”, also 59 years old, weighing 160lbs and measuring 38D-30-44 – Ellen Shaw!”
Yes, it’s true to say my boobs have got a bit bigger in old age but they’re still smaller than hers. I slipped of my kimono and stood proudly in my new polka-dot briefs and white gloves.
At Gabi’s signal, Lesley and I joined her in the centre of the ring for a short briefing before returning to our corners and sat on our stools awaiting the referee’s instructions. A few seconds later Gabi called:
“Seconds out.”
Terri slipped my gum shield into my open mouth and I stood up as she took the stool away. She patted me affectionately on the shoulder and wished me luck. Then the bell sounded and I danced out to face the Irish bitch for the final time.
For the first two minutes of the opening round, we traded blows fairly evenly but then I caught her with a straight left to her right breast which obviously stung. She covered up and went on the defensive and for the last minute or so I stalked her as she retreated around the ring.
When the bell sounded, we returned to our corners. Terri congratulated me on my performance and set about wiping the sweat from my face and checking me for welt marks. The judges’ scores flashed up on the score board and, given my dominance of the last third of the round, I was disappointed to see they’d scored it three points each. I felt I’d done enough to make it four-two but it’s not my decision. I would just have to try harder in round two.
Sallie, the time keeper, called: “seconds out” for round two, the bell sounded and we were off again, me still brimming with confidence and looking to take the fight to Lesley.
My confidence vanished 30 seconds into the second round when a hard straight right caught me just below the left breast and sent shock waves through my entire body. I staggered as the pain surged through my heart and lowered my guard to protect myself.
I was immediately struck by a left hook to the temple and a right uppercut put me flat on my back. I was seeing stars. Gabi started counting over me. I slowly rolled over and pushed myself to my feet as the count reach nine. Gabi checked me over and turned me to face Lesley before waving her in from the neutral corner.
I raised my guard and we squared off but I was still very shaky and within seconds she was beating out a tattoo on my boobs and belly and forcing me back into my own corner. Gabi stepped in to deliver a standing count and I stood there, desperately sucking in air and trying to compose myself.
Gabi stopped counting at eight and waved us back to the centre of the ring. Once again, I raised my fists and, once again, the busty Irish woman took me apart. A series of lefts and rights to ribs and belly brought my guard down before a solid right hook caught me on the temple and sent me spinning face first of the canvas again.
For a moment I blacked out. When I came to and looked up, Gabi was already at four. I pushed myself to my hands and knees and staggered to my feet, reaching for the ropes for support. Gabi stop counting at nine and steered me away from the ropes and back towards the centre of the ring where Lesley was waiting.
I raised my fists and braced myself but my feeble guard quickly fell apart again under another vicious assault. This time it culminated in a hard right uppercut that parted my breasts and connected with my jaw. I dropped my knees and ended up with my head resting on the mat and my arse sticking up in the air.
Once again, Gabi counted to nine as I slowly pushed myself to my feet. I was beaten, bruised, dazed, and exhausted; all hope I had a winning the fight seemed to have evaporated in the last two minutes. Right now, it was all I could do to stay on my feet.
Lesley closed on me again and I desperately went for a clinch, hanging onto the redhead as we half danced, half shuffled around the ring. Lesley hissed in my ear:
“You’re pathetic Shaw. Admit it. It’s only round two and you’re already beaten. Save yourself more pain. Stay down next time I put you down. If you don’t, I’ll just have to do it again and again until you do stay down for good”
Gabi moved into separate us. Lesley’s words had got me riled up but I wondered if I had the energy to take the fight back to her. I took a determined stance and raised my gloves as we squared off; I wasn’t going out without a fight. Five seconds later, and before she could land another blow, the bell sounded, mercifully, for the end of the round and I staggered exhausted back to my corner where Terri was waiting for me with a stool, a towel, a drink and words of encouragement.
There was a small cut on my left breast and nick just above my left eye. Terri rubbed Vaseline on both of the cuts and on my nipples, massaged my shoulders and spoke softly all the time, encouraging me, telling me:
“You’re not beaten yet. Get back up there and fight her. You’re better than this, Ellen. You know you can win this one. It’s what we’ve been training for. You owe it to yourself.”
She was right but I was tired. I wondered if I had it in me. Then she said the magic words spur me on:
“Ellen, if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Do it for Lynne. Do it for Nat. Do it for Sue. Do it for all the girls who are behind you. Get out there Ellen. Beat this stupid Irish woman. You can do it. You know you can.”
At that moment Sallie called seconds out again and I was alone again with Terri’s words ringing in my ears. She was right. I hardened my resolve and got my feet. The bell rang for the start of round three. A quick glance at the scoreboard confirmed my worst fears. Lesley had taken all the points from the previous round now had a commanding 17-3 lead over me. She also looked fresh as a daisy. I raise my gloves and steeled myself for the battle ahead.
For the next two minutes we danced around the ring trading punches. I was giving it my best. At least I was holding her off, but I wasn’t doing much to score any points and close that 14-point deficit. I was desperate to make some sort of progress and she was becoming increasingly frustrated that she wasn’t able to put me down again.
With two minutes gone she lunged at me, wrapped her left arm around my neck and pulled me towards her, delivering two short straight, hard rights to my knickers just above my mound of Venus. I thought I was going to throw up.
Gabi moved quickly to signal for the bell and separate us. I clutched my lower belly and dropped my knees as Gabi pushed the protesting Lesley away. Through my own sobs I could make out Lesley’s voice screaming at Gabi:
“What the fuck was that for? What have I done? Why have you stopped the round?”
And Gabi’s calming, reassuring reply:
“Low blow, you’re not supposed to hit below the panty line. The round is over and Ellen gets four points. Go back to your corner and wait for the start of the next round.”
I glanced up in time to see a furious Lesley almost take a swing at the ref before thinking better of it. Instead, she turned and stormed back to her corner as Gabi came over to me, checked I was okay and help me to my feet. I staggered awkwardly, bowlegged, back to my corner.
I was desperate for a pee, calling on Terri to help me as I approached her. Experienced in the very thing I was going through; Terri instantly had a bucket on hand and helped me by pulling my knickers down so I could relieve myself. I squatted over the bucket and released my bladder. As the wee streamed out I clutched my bruised abdomen. Fuck that hurt.
Thanks to Tee’s Law at least I got some respite, but I only got four points and the judges scored the rest of the round evenly so, as the seconds ticked down to the start of round four, I was still 10 points adrift and my opponent was angry and in a damned sight better shape than I was.
Once again Terri was full of words of encouragement as she wiped between my legs with a towel and pulled my knickers up. I did my best to take them on board but I was tired and aching. I settled back on my stool and tried to compose myself. I so wanted to win this fight, and yet right now, I was struggling to see how I possibly could.
The timekeeper called seconds out. Terri put my gum shield in and I bit my lip, resolved to try and take the fight to Lesley in the second half of the bout. As I got to my feet the crowd began to chant:
“Ell-en! Ell-en! Ell-en!”
I’m not a great believer in the benefits of crowd support in fights. Most of the time you’re so far in the zone you lose track of the fact there’s even an audience present. But, on this occasion, it really did lift my spirits and harden my resolve.
I moved across the ring, determined to take the fight to Lesley. We squared off and I began pushing out punches, hitting her hard and fast. After 45 seconds I was rewarded with my first knockdown of the fight as a right hook connected with her jaw and sent her spinning to the mat face down. I moved to the neutral corner as Gabi stepped in and began counting. Lesley pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, and was on her feet by the time to count reached seven.
Clearly frustrated at being knocked down she shook off attempts to check her over, raised her gloves and prepared to pay me back. Gabi waved me back in and we squared off again. I did my best to keep her at bay but she was still in great shape and after another minute or so I was forced to clinch again.
Once again, the Irish woman urged me to submit to her superior boxing skills. Fucking bitch, that’s all I can say, fucking bitch!
Gabi separated us and I got another standing count of eight before the fight resumed. Now I was determined to knock the bitch down again. For the last minute of the round, I threw everything I had at her. Eventually, just as I was running out of steam again, a left/right combination to the breasts brought her guard down and a right uppercut dropped her squarely on her arse near her own corner. She was pulling herself up on the ropes and the count was at seven when the bell rang for the end of the round.
I retreated to my corner feeling satisfied. That was definitely my best round so far and I was feeling lifted. Terri was full of praise and words of encouragement between rounds. When the scores flashed up the judges had scored it four-two to me, so we were now 23 to 18 in her favour.
That seemed a bit harsh given my two knock downs to her one standing count. I was still at least five points adrift with two rounds left to go. I was going to have to summon up all the energy I could muster if I was going to win the battle.
I was exhausted and my tits were on fire but looking across the ring I could see that the beating I’d handed out had taken its toll on her. She slumped on her stool as Helen tended to her. She was breathing hard; her left eye was swollen and a trickle of half dried blood ran from her right nipple. Her husband, outside the ring by her corner, looked concerned as he called out words of encouragement.
Terri smiled at me as she wiped the sweat away, gave me a drink, put more Vaseline on my nipples and temples and massaged my shoulders. As Sallie called for ‘seconds out’ again Terri leaned over me and said: “She’s almost done, take her out in this round.”
I got to my feet and stared across at Lesley. Helen had wiped away the blood but that couldn’t hide the fact that she looked exhausted.
As we came out for the fifth round, I noticed immediately something a changed. Her normally confident demeanour had evaporated and she seemed hesitant, almost cautious.
Her guard was high and I hit her with another left, right combination to boobs. She lowered her arms, and I fired one off at her head. It connected with her left temple. She took a swing at me but telegraphed it. I stepped back as it’s past harmlessly in front of me.
I closed in on her, guns blazing. I hit her with everything I’d got until she sank to the mat, more from the weight of blows than from any one specific punch.
I moved to the neutral corner and she remained on her knees for most of Gabi’s count, only pushing herself to her feet at eight. Gabi waved me back in and I closed on her and launched another barrage of punches that culminated in another right to her left temple.
Once again, she measured the length face down on the canvas and, once again, she took the full count to slowly push herself up before regaining feet. This time she had no objection to Gabi burning off a few more seconds, checking her over before waving me back in.
She raised her guard, but it was half hearted, gloves barely reaching above her chest. Blood was now flowing freely from the cut on her left temple and her left eye was almost closed. I needed no second invitation; I fired off a few more punches and landed a hard right hook, putting her down for a third time.
Whatever the judges decided I was now ahead for the first time in the fight. That gave me a boost and I forgot my own weariness as she slowly got back to her feet and Gabi wavde me back in. We closed on each other and Lesley went for a clinch, wrapping her arms around my neck, resting her head on my right shoulder and smearing the blood from her cut in my hair as she hissed in my ear:
“Fuck you Shaw; you’re making me look bad.”
“I think you’re doing that on your own.” I replied, driving a couple of blows into her ribs before Gabi separated us and gave her a standing count of eight before ordering us to fight on.
This time she hunkered down, using her gloves to protect her damaged temples. But those tits of hers were too big to cover while she was also protecting her head. I let fly at both of them, landing hard, straight blows on the nipples. She grunting and groaned. A hard right to the solar plexus, dropped to her knees. I retreated to a neutral corner and she huddled on her knees on the mat, clutching her boobs, while Gabi counted over her.
I wondered for a moment if this would be it, but no! Slowly, doggedly, she pushed herself back to her feet and stood for a moment as Gabi checked her over. Blood was now streaming freely from the cut on her left temple and trickles were also pouring from both of her nipples. She looked exhausted and I wondered how long she could carry on.
At that moment I realised that I felt pretty exhausted too. The adrenaline coursing through me was all that was keeping me on my feet. I just had to keep going, I had this fight in the bag and I was determined not to let it slip away. As Gabi checked her over, I could once again hear the crowd, baying for blood and spurring me on. Above other voices I heard Terri call out clearly:
“You’ve got this Ellen! Finish her, finish her now!”
Gabi finished checking her over and waved me in. I raised my gloves and prepared to put the Irish bitch to bed. I closed on her, fists raised, ready to deliver the final blows of the fight. Suddenly, for a split second, my vision was filled with green leather. Then everything went black.
When I came to, I was lying on my back on the canvas. Gabi was counting over me and she was already at four. Jolted into reality I sat up and shook my head to clear the cobwebs. Specks of blood went everywhere and I realised that my nose was bleeding. The crowd was screaming at me to get up. I pushed myself wearily to my feet as the count reached eight.
As Gabi checked me over, I looked down and examined my own body. Blood was clearly dripping from my nose and both my tits were cut and bleeding. I looked across Lesley in the neutral corner. Her left eye was almost closed and filled with blood. Her tits were also bleeding. She was breathing hard and I hoped that the blow that had laid me out would prove to be her swan song. Gabi waved her back in and I resumed my guard.
We closed on each other, wearily bobbing and weaving, moving in slow motion as we looked for an opening. Suddenly I spotted one and fired off a blow, putting every ounce of my rapidly dwindling energy into it. My right uppercut connected squarely with her jaw and she went down hard on her back. I retreated to the neutral corner and Gabi started counting.
The crowd were shouting and cat calling and I could hear Lesley’s husband screaming at her to get up. For her part Lesley just lay on her back, twitching, as Gabi’s count slowly rose. At eight she seemed to come round, she raised her head and tried to push herself up but that was as far as she got before Gabi cried:
“Out!”
The bell rang and her head dropped back to the canvas. I raised my hands in victory. I’d done it! I’d beaten the bitch. Payback had never tasted so sweet.
Normally I’m not one to gloat but this was a hard-fought victory over a woman who had been a thorn in my side throughout my fighting career. As she lay on the mat, I ripped off my gloves, walked up to her prone form, bent down, grabbed hold of her thong and pulled it off her. Then I held it in my right hand and waved it in the air to wild applause from the audience.
Helen entered the ring to come to the aid of her fallen fighter but stopped to congratulate me first, reminding me once again, there’s no love lost between Helen and Lesley. Lesley’s husband, BB, was also quickly in the ring as his wife slowly regained consciousness and pushed herself up to a sitting position. She glanced up, seeing me waving her thong in the air, and realised that she was both defeated and naked.
She blinked back tears, adopted a grim expression and pushed herself up, first her knees, and then slowly to her feet, unaided by either her husband or her second. Standing unsteadily and completely naked, she raised her arms in the air signal into the crowd that, although she’d lost, she was not beaten.
Seeing that we were both standing in the middle of the ring Gabi moved quickly to bring us together and announce to the crowd:
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, after two minutes and ten seconds of round five, by a knockout, Ellen Shaw!”
The crowd cheered even louder, and then Gabi said:
“And a round of applause please for your gallant loser, Lesley, O’Dowd!”
It was a credit to partisan crowd that they gave the Irish woman an ovation as well. At the end of the day, it had been a tough fight. I was glad to have won. I was glad to have finally laid my demons with Lesley to rest. Lesley herself was not so happy. She glanced across at me and said:
“Shaw, I want a rematch I’m not done with you yet.”
“Sorry,” I replied, “I’m done with you Lesley. I’m done with boxing.”
With that I turned away and went back to my corner where Terri gave me a hug and congratulated me on my victory. I slipped on my robe and the two of us climbed out of the ring where we were further embraced and congratulated by Lynne and Sue. It had been a good night for the blue corner. Four fights and four wins, well three wins and a draw to be more correct – but no one lost. We returned to the dressing room in a state of excitement.
We showered and changed quickly, chatting excitedly about the evening’s events, discussing the various victories, sympathising with Terri for her failure to overcome Kelly and pointing out that with two points to her credit she was still joint third overall at the end of the first round of the tournament.
Terri was definitely a bit downcast as she sat silently drying herself. I put an arm around her shoulder and reminded her that, at fourteen years her junior, Kelly was almost young enough to be her daughter and was almost certainly the toughest opponent she’d face in the tournament. I also reminded her, almost certainly unnecessarily, that, after the beating she’d received from Rose Dawson just a few weeks before, she’d put up an impressive performance by anyone’s reckoning.
Showered and dressed we made our way through to the chillout zone to celebrate our success, and were quickly joined by the three senior wrestlers from the red corner, all keen to socialise and get to know their opponents for the next round.
Lesley was, if course, conspicuous by her absence. The one thing I knew about that woman was that she didn’t take defeat gracefully. She’d be plotting her revenge even though I had said I was done with fighting her – indeed I was almost done with fighting.
As we stood around, chatting and enjoying a glass of wine, Suzi suddenly appeared down the spiral staircase from her office looking very excited. She came up to me and said:
“Ellen, I’ve got some news for you. I’ve just had a phone call from Peggy Brown. She’s staying with a friend in Florida and they’ve been watching the live stream of your match with Lesley…”
I raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Ellen, they’re coming to Europe next month on a tour. Peggy’s friend was impressed by what she saw and she wants to challenge you to a boxing match while she’s here. I’ve checked your calendar and we could fit it in after the league wrestling meet in a few weeks’ time.”
I shook my head and looked sadly at Suzi.
“I’m sorry Suzi,” I said, “I’m done with boxing. That was my last ever boxing match. I won and now I’m retiring. Please no more fights.”
“But Ellen, Peggy’s friend is Blake Mitchell.”
I did a double take.
“What did you say?”
“I said Peggy’s friend is Blake Mitchell. Blake Mitchell wants to box you!”
I was stunned. It was a dream come true. I’d seen Blake in videos, I knew her reputation and I’d always fancied taking her on, particularly when I took up boxing. When Terri told me the story of how she’d boxed Blake many years ago I’d fantasised about the opportunity of getting in the ring with Blake myself. I know what I’d said. I fought my last boxing match. I’d retired. But sometimes there’s an offer that’s just too good to turn down.
Terri had overheard the conversation was quickly at my side. She looked at me imploringly and said:
“Ellen, you have to do this. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Blake’s your age, she’s probably thinking about retiring as well. This will be the one and only opportunity you to ever get.”
I didn’t really need convincing despite all I’d said. The moment Suzi mentioned Blake’s name my mind was made up. I looked at them both and said:
“Let’s do it. Tell Peggy to tell Blake that I accept the challenge, and I’ll see her in the CLAWS ring a few weeks’ time.”
Two stories in one day - my Christmas gift to you. Sadly it may be a while before you hear from me again but I promise you that, one day, I will tell the story of Nat's debut against Karen and my fight with Blake. Until then it's adios and take care - Ellen x
