The bell sounded for the end of the first round and, slick with sweat, I made my way back to the blue corner. It had been a pretty vigorous workout. Blake may have been smaller than me but she certainly didn’t lack energy and I’d already discovered her punch could be pretty hard. Her big, E cup breasts made attempting target but she protected them well and every time I attempted to land a blow on them, I was at risk of leaving myself exposed. We’d been fairly evenly matched over the previous three minutes. I had managed to tag her once twice but I’d also been on the receiving end of a few of hers. I have to admit I do enjoy mixing it up with a worthy opponent and Blake was turning out to be everything I’d hope she’d be.
I settled down on my stool as Terri stepped through the ropes and began wiping the sweat from my face with a towel, which she then waved to cool me down.
“You’re doing great, Ellen,” she said, “she’s a tough opponent but you’re well matched. Just keep going as you are and watch out for that right hook of hers.”
All too soon the break was over and the timekeeper called seconds out. I glanced up at the scoreboard was unsurprised to see we were on three points each going into the second round. I stood up and looked across at her, she looked fresh and eager. The bell sounded. We moved towards each other ready to mix it up again.
For the first couple of minutes of the second round the fight followed the same pattern as the first. Me seeking to strike a blow on her big jugs, her defending and taking swings at me whenever I came close. Once again, we tagged each other with the odd jab but neither did much harm to the other.
Then, with just over two minutes gone, I made the mistake pushing forward as she retreated. I finally managed to land a solid left on her right breast, what I failed to notice was a clubbing right hook which connected with my temple and sent me staggering into the ropes. I grabbed the top one to stop myself going down and Gabi moved in to separate us. Blake retreated to a neutral corner as I turned to face the referee and took a standing count of eight. ‘Dammed it’, I thought, ‘that’s going to cost me a point or two.’
Gabi brought us both back to the centre of the ring and told us to fight on. I didn’t think Blake’s punch had hurt me too much but I was wrong. My reactions were slow. Suddenly she was all over me. A right impacted below my left breast, stinging my heart. A left caught me on the jaw. A straight right flattened my left boob and another left connected with my temple. I staggered and dropped face down to the mat. Blake retreated to the neutral corner and Gabi began counting over me. I pushed myself up to my hands and knees and got slowly to my feet as the count reached 8. Gabi checked me over and then waved Blake back in, a few seconds later the bell sounded for the end of round two.
I was dazed and despondent as I made my way back to the blue corner. I knew she got the better of me. I also knew it would take me a moment or two to recover. Terri was unimpressed:
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Ellen? Protect yourself! Come on you’re a better boxer than that.”
Then she relented:
“She just got the better of you there for a moment. Pull yourself together get out there and take the fight to her in the next round.”
I didn’t want to admit it but I was still feeling pretty woozy when Sallie called seconds out and I got up to face Blake for the start of round three. We came together and, for a moment, I tried to go on the attack. My reactions were still slow. I telegraphed a right hook and left myself open to another straight punch to my boobs. Before I could recover, I found myself flat on my back from a right upper cut.
Dazed, I picked myself up as the count slowly rose, making it back to my feet at eight. Gabi waved the American back in and from that moment and it was Blake all the way. Over the next two minutes she put me down another three times. I was doing my best but it seemed I was no match for her. My dreams victory over the former world champion began to evaporate. It looked as if Ellen Shaw was going to become just another one of Blake Mitchell’s victims.
Between rounds Terri was encouraging again. Yes, I taken the beating but she was clearly tiring. I just needed to pull myself together and get back into the fight. The one thing you can say about Terri is that she has ultimate confidence in me. She’s got me through more than one battle in the past when I thought I was finished by her encouraging words.
I was on my feet before Sallie called seconds out for round four. A glance at the scoreboard revealed how much work I would have to do if I had any chance of beating the American. Thanks to the disastrous third round and those two incidents the end of the second, I was now trailing with just five points to Blake’s twenty-three.
I had no option but to take the fight to Blake. I went on the attack from the opening bell. A couple of blows to her head left her dazed and I finally got a chance beating out a tattoo on those big bazookas of hers. I scored my first knockdown after a minute and a half and followed up with two more before the end of the round. In response she’d hardly landed a blow and I went back to my corner confident that I would take twelve points and she would take none.
Back in my corner Terri continued to be very positive while the adrenaline coursing through my veins lifted my spirits. Nonetheless I couldn’t deny that I was tiring. Looking across Blake in the opposite corner I could see that she also looked exhausted as Peggy administered to her. It wasn’t long before we were back on our feet, moving out to face each other a little slower this time.
The fifth round rapidly turned into a slugfest as we were both exhausted and staggering around almost punch drunk. Blake pushed forward again, fists flying as I tried to cover up. A left hook connected with my right temple. I staggered and raised my guard. She pistoned straight punches into both of my battered boobs. In desperation I fired off a right uppercut which connected with her jaw. She pitched forward as I staggered sideways, clutching my poor tits and seeking the refuge of a neutral corner.
Gabi started counting over Blake as I slumped in the corner, gasping for breath and cradling my tits. I looked across at the score board. Just over a minute left of the fifth round and I was a spent force. I wasn’t sure I could last the next minute, let alone another round. The scoreboard clicked on, registering the fact that I’d just knocked Blake down. Now I was just four points behind. With luck we’d finish the fifth round even.
Suddenly I became aware of a lot of shouting from the audience. Over all the excited voices I could hear Peggy screaming: “Get up, you stupid cow!”
I looked back to the centre of the ring and saw that Blake was still face down on the mat. She was desperately trying to push herself up on her hands but she didn’t have the energy. I heard Gabi counting:
“Eight!...Nine!...Ten!...Out!”
The bell rang. I couldn’t believe it. I’d done it. I’d knocked out Blake Mitchell! I took one step forward and everything went black.
And that’s when I woke up.
I almost wept when realized it all been a dream. Blake and I would be facing each other in the ring but not until this evening. I should’ve realized. It all seems so real of course, dreams often do, but when we did get together it wouldn’t be with Gabi as a referee and it wouldn’t be Terri in my corner. Gabi and Terri were away. Nat would be my second and the fight was being refereed by Suzi. All I could do was hope that the dream I just had was an omen. I looked at the clock by my bedside. 6am, one way or another I’d know in about 16 hours’ time.
