Fighting Talk. By Smac A champion boxer is interviewed about her sport. Corrected 13/06/2001 The South of England Women's' Boxing Club had celebrated its fifteenth birthday with a general meeting followed by a sumptuous dinner. Any outsider walking into the large restaurant would have perhaps thought them a sewing circle or maybe even a group of keep-fit enthusiasts. If they had been present at the AGM though they would view the group of women very differently. The year was 1991 and womens' combative sports were firmly established especially in Europe and the US. The SEWBC was one of the largest clubs in the UK and so was very influential in the field of female fighting. This very point had been strongly made by the chair during the meeting. It had therefore been unanimously decided that the club should look to its image. Though female boxing was now quite acceptable there were still some myths and half truths bandied about, amongst both men and women. It was suggested, and carried, that a reporter from one of the heavier Sunday newspapers should be invited to the club on the day of the next championship tournament. So it was that Angela Carlin waited in her cosy sitting room early one Saturday afternoon. Her husband and son had gone on a fishing expedition so she was free for the whole afternoon. She knew she had to be at the club by seven in the evening though. Still she decided to save any thoughts she had on the evening's activities for the interview. The journalist duly arrived and was shown in. The two women sized each other up as they walked to the comfortable arm- chairs. Angela, the boxer, was dressed in a figure hugging woollen dress in purest white. The outline of her bra and panties were clearly visible. The short sleeves showed off her swelling biceps and impressive shoulders. Her figure though could hardly appear more feminine. On her feet were thong sandals, the straps of which climbed her smooth, rounded calves to be tied well below the knee, her thick, glossy dark-brown hair was piled up, a gold braid held it loosely in place. She drank in the blonde beauty walking before her. The lustrous yellow hair floated to below her shoulder-blades. Her black high-heeled sling back shoes occasioned the swaying of her broad hips beneath a black velvet skirt. A thin, fine white blouse completed her outfit. They sat as the blonde took the initiative. 'Thanks very much for agreeing to meet me. I'm Catherine Worstnip, features reporter, but please call me Cathy. What shall I call you, Angela?' 'Angie will do fine.' 'Have you ever given an interview on this subject before?' The brunette shook her head. 'Well, as I told the lady at the club, I will tape the whole thing then I can edit it down to what I aim to use as copy. Doing it this way means that I get a feel for the whole subject, even though I only actually use a small proportion of the material. Is there anything else you want to know?' 'Will I see the piece before it appears in the supplement?' 'Well it's not usual practice but I'd be pleased to send you an advance copy, though I couldn't make any promises regarding changes. I'm afraid now's the time to pull out if you want to.' Angie was pleased both by the frank reply and the blonde's over all professionalism. 'O.k., let's get started,' blurted Angie, her mind made up. 'First tell me something about yourself. 'Well I'm 35 years old, married with a twelve year old son, I run a taxi service jointly with my husband. We train together incidentally. I weigh 170 lbs. and my measurements are currently 4O-24-37. As you probably know I'm fighting in my last boxing match tonight. I've been club champion at my weight for two years now. They've been a long two years, I've had to defend the title seven times, win or lose tonight I'm going to retire from club boxing.' 'How and when did you start boxing. It must have been rather unusual back in the seventies? 'Yes I really didn't start boxing until I was twenty. Let me see, that's 1976 isn't it. I have always been fairly aggressive and, as you can see,' she blushed, 'I have the physique to carry it off. I floored a girl one night in a disco, after she had upset me and the next thing I knew a woman had come over and was chatting to me. She told me she liked to fight, did I? I hadn't given it much serious thought till then, but put like that I had to admit that I did. It was late so she invited me round to her place the following day. I remember it was a Friday night, I was free on the Saturday so I agreed. I was rather intrigued I can tell you. I called round fairly early the next day, just in time to see the girl, I now know as Susan, returning from a run. We entered the house together.' "Shan't keep you a minute, go in there and make yourself at home. There are plenty of magazines and stuff you might find interesting." 'I sat down and absent-mindedly picked up one of the magazines. They all seemed to be published in the States and Germany. Girl boxers and wrestlers were featured, seemingly amateur as well as professionals. But my eyes nearly popped out when they focussed on the photos in the albums. They were mostly of Susan either boxing or wrestling. There seemed to be many different opponents and with some she wore a bikini, some just pants and a few photos showed her completely naked. I was still glued to the first album when she came back into the room.' 'So you box and wrestle?' I asked. "As long as it's a fight I don't mind what I do. Are you interested, would you like me to tell you about some of these fights?", she asked, nodding at the photos. 'I nodded and she talked for about an hour.' 'She must have sensed my enthusiasm because she finally put a proposal to me.' "Look," she said, "would you like to see me fight?" 'It was all too much for me' I simply nodded. 'What kind of fight would you like to see?' 'Boxing please,' I replied quietly. 'O.k. I'll phone round, shan't be long." 'While she made several phone calls to her would-be opponents, I sized Susan up. She was dressed then in tee shirt and tight shorts. She looked very muscular, very fit and tough, but still very feminine and attractive. Finally she replaced the receiver and turned to me.' "0.k. that's a boxing match fixed for two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. The girl I'll be fighting is a few years younger than me, we've boxed three times so far and I've beaten her every time. It was a struggle last time though, so I expect she'll be looking for a win tomorrow. Still we'll have to wait and see," she grinned. "What would you like us to wear'?" 'I hesitated for some moments then she cut me short.' "Can't make up your mind eh? That's alright we'll fight in the nude." 'Won't the other girl mind?' 'Oh no, Gail and I have boxed au naturelle twice already. Look I'm sorry but I have to get a few things ready as I'm going out tonight. See you about 12 tomorrow?" 'And that was it, I was out in the street again. What a crazy woman. I knew by then that she was about 30 and married to a wealthy international banker, He was often abroad on business so she tended rather to do her own thing. She didn't belong to a club as such, but rather was a member of a small group of women in the area who liked to fight when the mood moved them. That was how, she said, it had been so easy for her to arrange the boxing match at such short notice. I could hardly wait till the next day.' 'Well I went back just after twelve and Susan showed me straight away into the gym room. It was superbly equipped, but what caught my eye, and breath, was the full-sized ring set up in one corner.' "What kind of gloves shall we wear?" she asked, capturing my attention. 'I've no idea about such things,' I admitted. 'So she explained about the different weights. How the eight oz. glove had the most padding, the four the least and the six in between. She reckoned that eights were too well padded for use in a serious scrap, fours she usually used if her opponent was game and sixes she used in circumstances like she was in now, where her opponent would need to return to work in a couple of days. I remember that the following Monday was a bank holiday.' "Yes, Gail won't want to get too badly marked," she mumbled off handedly. "Now we'll have to find two decent pairs of gloves." She pulled open a drawer which was packed with boxing gloves of all different sizes, colours and ages. The drawer came right out and was upended, gloves were scattered all over the floor, squatting on her haunches, she began to sort through them. I bent to help. At last we had two quite new pairs, both black, separated out. "I really must tidy this lot up one day," she sighed as she struggled to replace the drawer. "Would you like to try a pair on?" 'I nodded and, standing over me, she tied the gloves onto my hands. I clenched my fists, the gloves felt great, but I wondered how it would feel to be on the receiving end of the thick, black leather. I remember giving myself a gentle tap on the jaw, Susan had laughed. Before I knew what had happened she had pulled a glove onto her right fist and slugged me in the face. I rolled over backwards, legs in the air, as much from fright as anything else. She smiled again and pulled me back up into a sitting position. "That was more like a real punch," she laughed. She could see how shocked I was. "Here take a free crack at me if you like." "Come on," she goaded, at the same time grabbing the bottom hem of her tee-shirt. 'She yanked it up under her chin, offering her large, bare breasts for penance. I hit her hard. Well I thought it was hard.' 'She grunted as her left breast was crushed by the black leather. Then, almost immediately, she grinned back at me. She certainly was a tough lady.' "Enough of this, I must get ready. Gail will be here soon." 'She sat me down with some more photos.' 'I will always remember the first time I saw Gail. When Susan brought her into the room I couldn't believe she was about to take part in a boxing match. She would have looked more at home on the front page of Vogue magazine than in a boxing ring. I guessed she was about 25 then, she was very blonde and spoke with a beautifully soft accent accentuated by a girlish lisp. Susan introduced her then they disappeared upstairs to change. Ten minutes later they came back. Gail had swapped her elegantly cut suit for a rather shabby towelling dressing-gown, Susan wore a white silk house-coat affair. I noticed they were both bare-foot. The wildest thing happened then. No sooner had they begun to move over to the ring than the door opened again and a man entered. Susan's husband as it turned out, returning unexpectedly.' "You're just in time, you can be Gail's second, Angie you come with me." 'Quite unconcerned, her husband took off his jacket and, briefly kissing Susan, grabbed the two pairs of gloves and ducked into the ring. He gave me one pair and I went over to where his wife sat. Her fairly long brown hair was already tied up in a pony-tail, all she wanted me to do was tie the small, black gloves onto her fists. I was getting quite excited by then I can tell you.' "Shall I do the honours?" asked her husband, when both women were gloved up. "Yes please," replied Susan. 'He went to the ring centre and announced that the fight was to be over ten rounds of three minutes with one minute's rest between. The fight would only be stopped by a knock-out of twenty seconds duration. Punching only was allowed, but there was no restriction on where they could hit each other. He seemed to have done this sort of things many times before. I looked over at Gail, her beautiful face was impassive.' 'I remember those few minutes most clearly. It was the first proper womans' boxing I'd seen so I've always treasured it. They both stood and simultaneously slipped the gowns from their shoulders. Susan, I can see her now, looked magnificent. She was extremely well put together, large firm breasts, flat belly and flaring hips. Her thighs looked strong and smooth. Her crotch was smooth as well, not a trace of any pubic hair, just the pink slit.' 'Oh sorry, should I have said that?' "Like I said, tell me everything, I can go through it all again to edit it," grinned the fascinated reporter. 'Yes well then I looked Gail over. She was flawless. Beautiful figure to go with her face. Her pubic hair was fair and trimmed very close. Her blonde tresses were piled high on her head and held up by a sort of thin turban I think it was. So there I was, about to watch two good-looking and obviously strong young women belt the day-lights out of each other. One with her husband looking on. He seemed to adopt the role of referee and so it was he who called the girls out for the first round. The fight was so ferocious. I remember that Susan came back to her corner in a worst state as the rounds went by. Both girl's noses began to bleed heavily during the second round but it didn't seem to bother them or Susan's husband, soon they were liberally spattered with each other's blood. They were punching each other all over. Breasts, faces, bellies and even between the legs. Both were knocked down in the eighth, Susan staying down the longest, for about ten seconds I recall. When she finally got to her feet I remember seeing blood coming from the corner of her mouth, where Gail had hit her, running down her neck and over her bruised, swollen breasts. The blonde's hair had by then escaped from the band round her head, the elegance she had displayed before the fight had been knocked out of her. Susan came back after that round and I asked her how she could contemplate going out for the ninth round.' She replied, "I expected this to be a hard fight. My boxing ability and courage are being tested alright but that's what I want, that's what it's all about."' 'I asked her if her husband might intervene if she appeared to be taking too much punishment?' "He'd knows better than that," she snarled. Anyway she went out for ninth but she never really threw a punch. Gail did though, several. Soon even Susan's indomitable courage couldn't keep her battered, bruised and bloody body upright any longer. With a sigh of relief from her husband, she slumped to the canvas like a rag doll. Her man naturally went to her while I led Gail back to her corner. She was in almost as bad a state, blood all over, even splashed down over her gorgeous legs I remember. I draped a towel over her heaving shoulders and got on with the job of trying to untie the blood-soaked gloves. Thanking me she got up. She flexed her aching hands several times then tenderly felt her damaged face where Susan's hard gloves had bruised and cut her. Then she left the ring and I watched her bare, sweaty bottom disappear out of the door and up the stairs. By now Susan was conscious and free of her gloves. Her husband kissed her flaming, blood-spattered cheek then half-carried her from the ring. It couldn't have been much more than half an hour later that the two boxers came into the lounge where Susan's husband and I had been talking about the great scrap we had just seen. Their faces were rather puffy but otherwise they both looked great. Each glowed with some kind of inner satisfaction, even Susan who had been the gallant loser of the vicious fight. It was then that I decided that I too wanted to box. It was obvious to me at that time that I couldn't go into the ring with either of those two they've had killed me, I was thinking about training and so on when Gail suggested that I join her training programme. It must have been very obvious that I wanted to box. I remember that I glanced across to Susan but she just shrugged. As Gail was more my age I accepted her offer gladly. That's more or less how I began, by example really. That was such a great scrap I didn't see one as good for about a year although I saw plenty boxing matches amongst the girls of the 'circle', as I came to call them. Gail boxed, on average, four times a year so she was always in training and I just slotted in beside her. I even went to the trouble of taking a flat near her. After about six months though we became so inseparable that when she suggested that I move in with her I jumped at the chance. We really got down to it then. She started sparring with me as well. At first with head-guards on, but not for long. She reckoned I was a natural boxer. A couple of months after I moved in with her she surprised me one evening, after a visit by her to one of her friends, by telling me that she had arranged a fight for me, if I was interested. I was shocked at first, but interested, I'd been training hard for eight solid months, of course I wanted to know everything about the fight and about the other girl.' "Well" said Gail, breathlessly, "you'd be fighting at Susan's so you should feel at home. The girl is called Denise, she's 23, about two years older than you. She wrestles mostly but lately she's fought in a couple of boxing matches and seems to be coming along quite well. It should be a damned good match. She showed me a photo of her, stripped to very scanty bikini briefs with what looked like 6 oz. gloves on. She was quite tall, like me, but very fair. What drew my attention particularly was the size of her breasts, they looked like a pair of melons sticking out from her chest. "Yes, she's a big girl alright, about 42" I think. She can take it in the tits as we say though. But, as you can see I think they must be her Achilles heel, so to speak. I've seen both of her fights and she suffered with her breasts terribly, but be warned, she still went on to win." 'It hit me then, up till now I had been training every day, running, weight-training and punching a heavy bag, but this was the real thing. I was being given the opportunity to pit my skill and courage against another woman in a ring that could turn out to be a pit of pain. Where one or both of us may end up battered and bloody, maybe unconscious and humiliated. I accepted the challenge straight away. Then I realised that I hadn't asked Gail what the rules would be.' "Oh," she grinned, "nothing too severe, this is your first time. How does ten three-minute rounds in 8 ounce gloves sound?" I remember thinking hard about this. I didn't like 8 oz. gloves even at that stage of my boxing experience. They were too heavy and well-padded for women to use. 'No,' I said to Gail, 'I'd rather box in sixes.' "I'm sure that will be ok, do you want me to phone Denise now, get it all settled tonight?" 'When will we fight.' "Tomorrow's Saturday, seems as good a time as any." 'So there I was, my first boxing match less than 24 hours away. Gail studied my face I remember.' "Don't look so worried, I wouldn't have put you up to it if I thought you were in for a hammering. Think positive." She phoned Denise, my opponent and the match was made. Gail and I sat down to watch a video of her last fight. It had been a cracker, she won, just, after seventeen hard rounds against a big West Indian women of about 40 years old. She had been a heavy puncher but slow because of her size Gail had to use hit and run tactics. She darted in, hit and jinked away from the scything fists of her black opponent. The tactics infuriated the woman, who swung her heavy arms furiously, trying to land a decent blow. Inevitably several times in each round she did catch Gail and she was by no means unscathed. They had fought in g-strings, by the time the fight had gone 10 of the scheduled 20 rounds, both women were bleeding freely from the face. Gail was knocked down several times late in the fight, but always managed to beat the 20-second count, a tribute to her courage and stamina. By the fifteenth the dark woman had lost so much blood from her nose and face generally that she hadn't really been in the running, her reactions and co-ordination fogged by dizziness. She spent the last two rounds as a pathetic human punch bag for Gail to hit at will. She didn't really enjoy hitting the almost defenceless woman repeatedly, but it was a fight to a finish and if she had relented there was still a chance that she might be caught by one of the haymakers still thrown occasionally by the negress. Her black opponent finally sank, first to her knees, then sprawled onto her side on the spattered canvas. As the tape showed Gail raising her blood-sodden gloves in a boxer's salute she flicked off the video.' "Not a very good match that, I quite enjoyed the fight but winning it was no real achievement, I hope you understand what I'm going on about." We went to bed after that. I was so tired from training that even the excitement at the prospect of the fight next day couldn't keep me awake. I remember waking early, about six, and suddenly realising that this was the day, my first boxing match. I pottered about until Gail woke at around nine. She made me eat some cereal and got me coffee, though I didn't feel at all like eating.' "You alright?" she had asked, "it will only take a quick phone call to get the fight cancelled." 'No I'm ok,' I replied, 'just got butterflies.' "You should do something, let's watch that video again.' 'I remember finding the tape of that fight much more stimulating the second time around. We used slow motion and freeze-frame to savour the high lights especially the combination of punches that ended it all. I wondered if the black girl had recovered by then. The fight excited me but also served to heighten my own concern regarding real physical injury. I told Gail I was worried about damage, particularly to my face.' "You'll be Ok, don't worry its only ten rounds and Denise hasn't the build to be a really heavy puncher, you'll be fine." 'I remember she packed a little grip for me with my own towel and things. Again my stomach lurched when I saw lint, cotton-wool, plasters and such being put in, I turned away and went to my room to change. I wasn't quite so stocky then so I had jeans and a sweater on as we drove round to Susan's. Scatter-brained Susan let us in and showed us into her lounge. We chatted for a while but I could only think of that squared circle of rope in the gym room. I was really scared, I think if Gail had asked me if I wanted to go on with the fight then I would have said no. Luckily she didn't, she just left me with my thoughts. After a while I had straightened myself out and I remember blurting out.... What shall we wear?' Gail said, "Let's leave it until Denise gets here." 'When the door-bell rang my stomach heaved. Gail came in with Denise. She looked very attractive, her short blond hair immaculately styled. The well-cut cream suit and red high-heels she wore made her look very demure. I remember we chatted for quite a time before the real reason for our being there was suddenly mentioned.' "Ten rounds in sixes then," announced Denise brightly. "We were wondering what you would like to wear?" asked Gail. "No problem, here." 'She opened her red hand-bag and took out a package. I bought these yesterday after you phoned." She tossed one garment over to me and shook the other out herself. They were silk shorts, very small and very shiny, the kind that girl athletes wore then. They were both white and the short legs were further slit up the sides, allowing even greater freedom of movement. "What do you think, we are boxing topless aren't we?" 'Yes, oh they're lovely,' I said. 'Gail thought we would want to get ready by ourselves so Susan showed the two of us up into her bedroom. It was a fantastic room, I can still remember the huge, circular bed and wonderful decor. We both felt as nervous as kittens but we knew that the two more experienced, more worldly wise women would be waiting for us downstairs. It was me who took the plunge. I pulled off my sweater and snapped the catch of my bra. The sight of my bare breasts seemed to break the ice and soon we were chatting together as we undressed. I remember blushing as I asked Denise if she didn't think her bust too large for boxing.' "Oh no, besides I can't do much about it can I," she said off handedly." 'We had our shorts on and there were two beautiful silky dressing gowns on the bed. Susan had clearly made a special effort. We both quickly drew them over our bare shoulders.' 'Well this is it,' I said. Denise just grinned coyly and we touched hands. "We thought you'd both chickened out," Gail had joked, "where've you been?" As neither of us replied she got up and ushered us all into the gym room. The butterflies began again then I can tell you. The smell of leather and sweat, the sight of the ring and the harsh lights made my knees tremble. I wondered what I was in for.' Susan was clearly eager to get us started, jumping into the ring she held the ropes apart for the rest of us as we clambered from the apron. It was too late now. Gail joined me in the far corner, I remember she was smiling, it seemed so incongruous. Across the ring Susan was flapping around an equally frightened Denise. I remember the moment when the gloves went on. Gail took them from the corner post, black and new by the look of them. I thrust out my right hand and she pushed the small glove on tightly. The laces felt so tight and confining. All too soon the other glove was tied on and we were half-pushed out into the ring. Susan caught our gloved hands and pulled us closer together. I could smell Denise's heady perfume and detect the hint of fear in her eyes. She announced the details of the match. A straight fight, ten three-minute rounds, in the event of a knock-down the other fighter must go to a neutral corner before the count could begin. Ten seconds was allowed before the loser was counted out. If the fight went the distance it was to be declared a draw. So there I was Cathy, scared shitless, oops sorry.... and facing a woman I had known for precisely thirty minutes. She could have been a female Cassius Clay for all I knew. Anyway I trusted Gail and frightened though I was I turned and strode resolutely back to my corner. Gail undid the belt and pulled the flimsy gown from my shoulders. My hair was much shorter then so all I wore were the tiny shorts and the little black gloves. I felt much better as I stared across the ring at Denise. She was just as venerable as me, more if anything with her huge breasts jutting way out in front of her. I looked down at my own tits I remember, they didn't look as big as they usually did. 'I remember thinking to myself as we closed in on each other, how will I look going in to work on Monday? How will I explain away two black eyes, a swollen nose and split lips? The bell rang and suddenly we were at it. Then she hit me, she seemed to put a good deal of effort into the punch. The glove caught me on the side of my face. It stung, it hurt for sure but I didn't fall, my brain was still on-line. I'd taken plenty of punches whilst sparring but that was the first in an 'open' fight. I felt I'd pulled through, I was over the hurdle, she wasn't a super-being, but a woman the same as me. She grinned as my face flushed. I started to back off but I could hear Gail shouting at me to get in there and box her. I remember she always stormed forwards in her fights and I rushed at Denise. My right fist thudded into her flat belly, she grunted but straight away countered with a clubbing right, again the left side of my face bore the brunt, Gail yelled at me to ride the punches. She was right, I wasn't putting my ring training into practice. I tried another belly punch. I brought my fist up from behind my thigh and smacked it into her guts. In fact it hit her very low down, beneath the waist-band of her shorts almost on her pubic mound, I glanced at Susan, least she would give me a telling off for such a low blow, but she just gave a tiny shrug then smiled. Denise held me off with her gloved hands while she panted noisily. Gail was urging me to follow up the belly blow. Although I felt sorry for the blonde, we were in the ring to fight. Her guard was low over her breasts and belly, I went forward and used both my fists on her face. It was a great feeling I remember, my knuckles, inside the hard little gloves, thumped into her beautiful face. This was it, I felt great as I felt the force of my punches jarring my shoulders. I looked down and watched my breasts bobbing and swaying with each blow. It couldn't last forever though, soon she shook herself and came back at me. Her breath still came in great gasps, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, she looked as mad as hell. She had a longer reach than me and she put it to good use. She jabbed me all round the ring for the rest of the round, I too was bleeding slightly from the lips as I sat down in my corner. Gail was quite annoyed I remember, at my not pressing the advantage after the belly punch and for letting Denise overwhelm me with her jabbing. She told me to get in there and hit her. Denise looked very pleased with herself, I determined to try to knock the self satisfied smile off her face. Susan had sloshed water all over her and, as she stood for round two, her tanned body glistened under the bright lights, her tiny, tight shorts were transparent. She pushed the hard little gloves more tightly onto her fists. The jabbing began again but I sneaked in under the pistoning fists and started to score off her. It was her breasts which took the most punishment. I got half a dozen hooks into her left and a couple to the right. It was her fault for having such enormous tits. She whimpered each time my fists buried themselves in the reddening woman-flesh. I didn't get off Scot free though, she caught me with some of her jabs and my head was ringing. We each backed off a bit and I could see that Denise was crying, tears running down her flushed cheeks. At first I felt sorry for her again but a straight right flattening my poor nose brought me to my senses. Blood began to splash onto my chest and my eyes ironically filled with tears, but most of all I was so angry. I'd no idea how much of the round was left, but I went out to nail her. I started by repaying the punch I'd just taken. It was a peach of a punch, her nose gushed blood down over her breasts, her gloves dropped. I didn't let her get away this time. I must have hit her a dozen times. She thudded to the floor onto her back, twitching. Her gloves, palm-up, framed her once-perfect face, now bruised and bloody. She showed no sign of recovery, anyway the bell went while she lay there. Susan jumped into the ring as I went to my stool. I was trembling as I sat down. I asked Gail if she would be alright.' 'Yes, right as rain in no time, ' she soothed 'Sure enough poor Denise was soon up and on her stool. It was a knock out of course, but technically she had been saved by the bell. Susan urged her to come out for the third but, sensibly I thought, she told her she didn't want to go on and asked her to take the gloves off." "So there it was I'd won my first fight by a knockout. I felt rather bad that Denise had been forced to retire, it would have been better to have called it a clean KO, still that's the way things sometimes turn out in the ring. You can never be sure what will happen when you duck under the ropes. I felt great about the fight though and didn't even wait for Gail to unglove me or clean me up before I was over hugging the loser. Gail and Susan hadn't really planned to fight and as both had a serious match coming up soon, they just went a few rounds in eights. But the sight of their bare sweaty bodies straining against each other was very exciting. 'Poor Gail had to put up with my rabbiting on about that fight for days. As my only real injury was a swollen nose, which subsided after a day, I was also thinking seriously about my next bout. Gail said I'd really got the bug. I went from strength to strength, so to speak, My reputation within Susan's circle of girl fighters grew to such a pitch that I sometimes had difficulty in getting a fight. I've always been fairly heavy framed, with wide shoulders et cetera and I could hit bloody hard, even then. Susan, bless her, would always give me a fight but things couldn't go on like that, she never beat me and always ended up on her back. That was when Steve appeared on the scene. He ran taxis back then and knew the ropes, if you'll pardon the pun. He collected me sometimes from some of the farther flung members of the group, and of course sooner or later he was bound to notice the odd bruise. One night he laid it on the line and I told him all about my activities in the boxing ring, and guess what, he never turned a hair.' "You box just for the love of it?" he asked incredulously. 'Yes, I can't fight often enough.' He thought for a moment, then pulled in to a hotel car-park. "I'm going to have a break for a few minutes, care for a drink?" 'Well the few minutes lasted more than an hour. It turned out that he was one of the founder members of a small, exclusive group of business men who arranged and funded women's boxing.' "Why not make something out of it?" he urged. "I can get you as many fights as you can handle!" he smiled. 'I didn't know what to make of things at first. He persisted though and before we broke up he got me to promise to ring him at work the next day. "I'm glad you rang," he answered, "it's nearly bust a gut but I've managed to arrange an exhibition match for tonight, you must come." '0f course I agreed straight away. He picked me up at eight and we drove out into the country. "Excited?" he asked. 'I'm not sure what to expect,' I replied. "Well if you don't know what women's boxing is like I don't know who does." We both laughed. It was a beautiful house. There were quite a few people there, by no means all men. One room was laid out as an arena. There was a full-size, elevated ring surrounded on all sides by a few rows of comfortable chairs. What a contrast to some of the rings I'd fought in. Sometimes there had been no ring at all, just four bare walls, and a concrete floor at worst. The professional air of the place impressed me. Everything was clean and orderly. There were bright overhead lights and, what looked like, facilities for filming or videoing the bouts. Steve said nothing as we joined the others in the ring-side seats. A very elegant woman, dressed in a dark-grey business suit and high heels stepped gracefully into the ring and tugged at the overhead microphone. "Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Cranfield House. There is only one bout on tonight's card, a specially arranged heavy-weight fight over twenty rounds between two girls I'm sure most of you know very well. Needless to say I hope you all enjoy what will certainly be a damn good scrap." She turned and nodded at someone near the door and four people entered the room. The two boxers were hidden under thick towelling dressing gowns with the mandatory, but unbecoming, hoods over their heads. The other two seemed to be their seconds, they were both young men in their late teens. They too had the fresh, fit look of athletes. The two hooded figures climbed eagerly into the ring. Once they had settled themselves the woman in grey began again.' "This is a heavy-weight fight of twenty rounds duration, using regulation four ounce gloves. I should like to introduce on my right," the figure turned to face the middle of the ring and tugged off her heavy gown with her bandaged hands, "Carol." The ugly, grey garment fell to the ring floor revealing a statuesque, voluptuous brunette. The only thing she wore besides the bandage on her fists was a tiny white g-string. She turned back to face her corner and waved, circumspectly to the audience. Several people applauded loudly and some of the men wolf-whistled, which did seem rather out of character with the surroundings. Carol had broad shoulders with more than a hint of bicep but she was all woman, her huge firm breasts and flaring hips attested to that.' "On my left Ladies and Gentlemen, our club champion Stephanie." 'The other boxer divested herself of her cowl and gown, a shout went up as her gorgeous body came to light. She was big, blonde and beautiful. She too wore just a white g-string. She caressed her large, thrusting breasts with her bandaged hands as she too turned to face the assembled men and women. As the two boxers sat to have the small black gloves laced onto their fists Steve asked, "Well, what do you think up till now?" 'I said I was impressed,' I remember. 'Is this a typical fight?' I asked. "Well the top rate girls in the heavy weight class do always go twenty rounds in fours, he replied, "but different rules apply for other weights and levels of experience, of course." 'I turned to look to where the girls were being prepared. As they sat, they were both big girls, large, firm breasts and strong shoulders, but neither showed any sign of a 'spare tyre' around their middle. 'Do they have to do much training?' I asked, dreading the answer. "That's up to them, if they want to win fights and get to the top of the heap, they jolly well have to." 'The two girls stood, both smacking the small, hard gloves together, eager for the fray. The four ounce boxing gloves looked tiny at the end of their strong, smooth arms. As they skipped around their breasts, I should have thought both would breast the tape at around forty inches, wobbled and bounced alarmingly. 'I had to admit it then, these two women scared the hell out of me but I longed for the fight to start.' 'The referee, the woman in grey, must have heard my plea, she waved the two women towards her.' First she grabbed the brunette's right glove and raised it above her head. "Weighing in at 165 lbs. with statistics of 40-25-38, your appreciation for Carol, one of our young hopefuls at just nineteen." 'Again there was considerable applause. Then the ref. turned her attention to the blonde.' "She needs no introduction to most of you, Steph weighs 169 lbs. Measures 41-24-38 at 29 this will be her fifth defence of her heavy-weight championship. 'The audience gave her a standing ovation.' 'Both girls blushed before the rapturous welcome, they seemed really keyed up. Both stood, gloved hands on hips, each powerful body waiting to prove it's supremacy over the other.' "Go to your corners, may the best girl win." 'I can tell that even to this day that still ranks as the best fight I've ever seen. They went at it for seventeen rounds I thought they were going to kill each other.' 'Would you like to hear a little more about that fight Cathy?' "I'd like to hear a lot more about it," smiled the journalist. 'Let me get us both a drink first, I've been talking for too long, coffee ok?' 'As we sat sipping our coffee I began to tell her about the fight between Carol and Steph both now good friends, though no longer boxing. 'Well they went wild from the first bell, they threw more punches in the first round than I've seen thrown in the whole of some men's heavy weight fights. They didn't care where they hit each other either, it was obvious that the below the belt rule wasn't being applied, still with them wearing those minute g-strings it would have been the devil of a job to judge anyway. They really punished each other unremittingly, it was a very even match. Round five it was if I recall correctly, that the first knockdown came. Steph dropped the brunette with a beautiful uppercut to the side of the jaw. She just lay on her side unmoving on the canvas, blood running freely from the corner of her mouth. 'She'll never make it up by ten,' I whispered to Steve. "Who said anything about ten?" he grinned, "this is championship boxing, you have to be out for twenty seconds to lose this fight." 'So it was, she began to stir by ten and struggled to her feet by thirteen, the ref. immediately set the blonde onto her. Somehow she made it to the end of the round, but she took a terrible battering. Her face was a mess as she slumped onto her stool I remember thinking to myself, well it's nearly all over for her. If you'd told me it would last another thirteen rounds I wouldn't have believed you for a moment. Her second spent every moment of the minute's break working on her. She was quite badly cut inside her mouth and her nose bled quite a lot, but worst of all was the bruising on the left hand side of her face where she had taken so many punches from Steph's cruel gloves. She came out for the sixth looking remarkably fresh and off they went again leather flying in all directions. It was amazing, but it frightened me to think that I may be called upon to box like this if I got involved with the club. 'What do they get out of this,' I asked bluntly as the two girls belted each other around the ring just feet away from my face. I could smell their sweat, hear the gloves smacking into their breasts and faces and them each grunt as punches landed. "For a fight like this we'll have put £3OOO up front, that's £2000 for the winner and £l0OO for the loser." 'I remember thinking, that's not to be sneezed at, nor was it more than twelve years ago. The sixth ended with both boxers hugging their already swelling breasts as they turned to their respective corners. Both were bleeding from the nose and mouth, though not badly. Their breasts seemed to be troubling most. I had taken a good deal of punishment there myself, but these were big, strong girls and they wore the small, cruel four ounce gloves. Their seconds carefully eased some of their pain with, what I later found out to be, ice-packs made of very thin, fine chamois leather. The boys hadn't got time to clean up the boxers faces and they went out for the seventh, still bleeding and bloody. I expected, all the time, that the pace would ease off but if it did it was barely perceptible. After the tenth round had been and gone the boxers did both show signs of slowing up in their footwork and in the number of punches which were being exchanged, but the blows looked as hard as ever to me. The fight was still very even, the only real advantage so far was the knock-down by Steph in the fifth. It was still a very open, stand-off fight and the crisp punches were still getting to both girls. They would certainly have earned their purses tonight, I thought. Their injuries had worsened, both girl's upper bodies were spattered with blood, if the referee's suit had not been so dark, I believe we should have seen that she too was well covered because each time one of them took a punch to the head drops of blood flew, some even landing on us when the girls were almost directly over-head. I was enjoying the fight so much that I forgot all about maybe having to take so much punishment myself, I just longed to be in there fighting. By the fifteenth both girls were in a real mess, it was difficult to reconcile either with the two confident, attractive girls who had climbed into the ring just an hour previously. They were so callous towards each other, there was no quarter asked or given. They came out for the sixteenth both boxers still bloody wrecks, their seconds having spent all the rest period trying to sooth the girls' bloated breasts. Near the end of the round a torch was lit for Stephanie the champ, as a crushing, tearing right cross caused the brunette's huge left breast to give under the onslaught, the nipple burst horribly and blood oozed down over her flat, bruised belly. She screamed, but didn't fall, I couldn't believe it, she was still in there boxing. She didn't throw many punches in what was left of the round though and her face was grey as she stumbled backwards under the torrent of leather pistoned into her by the blonde. The bell rang and she limped to her stool. Her young second patted the breast and I could clearly hear him begging her to allow him to throw in the towel. She was a very brave lady. Out she came for the seventeenth, her face still a mask of pain. The blonde clearly wanted to finish it quickly, but I'm sure it wasn't to spare her opponent any suffering, she just wanted to win! The brunette held one glove low over her damaged tit, the other over the point of her chin, trying desperately to avoid a knock-out. I cast my eyes down over the girls and noticed their g-strings were blood-stained and tight with sweat. My gaze returned to their faces just in time to see the final punches of the match, Steph piled a straight left into the glove guarding the burst nipple, even this indirect blow caused the brunette to drop her other glove and hug her breast, her head bobbed forwards slightly and the blonde threw a bombshell of an upper-cut into the middle of her hanging face. Carol's ears must have popped as the cartilage of her nose was severely displaced, she didn't know anything about it though, she was already on her way to the canvas, blood spurting from her nose like a fountain. She was duly counted out and two burly men, who had been lurking in the wings for the past few rounds, wearily clambered into the ring and, unceremoniously dumped her face down on a canvas stretcher. Stephanie paraded round the ring, only once though, her blood-sodden gloves held above her proud, if battered head. She was in a sorry state herself but refused the two seconds offer of help to return to the dressing room. Gingerly putting one blood-spattered leg before the other she staggered down the aisle. Almost all the audience sat dumbfounded for some time. Steve broke the silence for me, "Would you like to talk to the girls?", he asked. 'Won't they mind?' "No it will be ok, Stephanie will be itching to talk about the fight in about ten minutes time if I know her." 'He was quite right, we killed fifteen minutes at the bar, then he took me in to see the boxers. Carol was sitting up on a massage table, she hadn't been cleaned up and her face was beginning to darken with bruising. I noticed a dressing had been taped over the tip of her swollen left breast. She looked rather sorry for herself, but managed a thin smile to greet us. Steph, on the other hand, was like a dog with two tails. She wasn't boastful or catty, she was just on a terrific high after emerging from such an ordeal as victor. Her gloves were off and she dabbed at her face with a flannel. I told both girls to let me clean them up, Steve said he'd wait for me in the bar. By the time I left the dressing room, after about an hour of caring for and talking to the girls about the boxing club's activities, I no longer felt nervous about fighting there. Steve was pleased when I told him, he'd give me a ring when he'd got things arranged. So that's how I began boxing at SEWBC. I started off in a fairly modest way, fighting over eight round in sixes, these bouts were more or less on a par with the fights I'd had with Susan and her friends. But I didn't remain at that stage very long. After about three eight rounder's, all wins inside the distance, they started me on fifteen round fights, still in sixes. Still I continued to come out on top so after four of these matches I was offered a twenty round fight in fours. I asked Steve about it. "Well you won't be able to box so often, that's for sure, you will need several weeks to recover fully even if a fight doesn't go the distance." He reminded me of the fight between Carol and Steph. It was a month before the girls were able to resume full-time training, let alone fight again.' "Still you should soon be earning good purses if you continue your winning streak." I told him to tell the club that they could match me as soon as they wanted. I remember that decision especially well because Steve asked me to marry him that evening. I accepted later but told him I would like to purchase a half- share in his business as soon as possible. We agreed that he should start to train me, full-time almost, so that the income from my boxing would soon reach the sum needed for my partnership. If I needed any extra impetus, then that was it. "You reckon the fight between Steph and Carol was the best you've seen, what about the worst?" asked Cathy, taking the initiative for the first time. 'That's easy' I smiled, 'the club had a letter from a group in the States calling themselves 'Foxybox Inc.', they suggested that we might like to see a couple of their girls in action in the ring and cheekily asked us to stump up the air fare for one of the boxers. Well the club's not short of a few bob so we agreed. The great day arrived, the arena was fairly full, there was guarded applause as the two American girls stepped into the ring. Off came their sequinned gowns showing them to be dressed in tee-shirts with great, lumpy chest protectors underneath, men's shorts over some form of pelvic protection, eight ounce gloves, gums hields and ring boots. They did four two-minute rounds of powder-puff punching hardly one blow landed. They sheepishly climbed out of the ring, barely breathing heavily, to a light ripple of polite applause. Some of the rowdier members looked as though they would have preferred a slow hand-clap. In the bar afterwards one of the committee suggested that one of the visitors should take on one of our girls. They both blushed deeply and made their excuses. A couple of our lot were nearby and agreed between themselves, at a moment's notice, to come to the rescue of a so-far ruined evening. To the yanks amazement they jumped into the ring, stripped down to their panties, got a couple of members to lace some six ounce gloves on their hands and they went at it. Unfortunately they weren't too evenly matched, one girl was much bigger and more experienced. It was a smashing scrap though, the smaller girl went down fighting, great tit-puncher she was, had the other girl in all kinds of trouble at the start till she changed her guard. Five or six rounds she lasted, those transatlantic twats packed up and left as soon as it was over. Cathy laughed. Recovering she asked, "you say you've defended your title seven times in the last two years, are they the only fights you've had recently?" 'I should say so,' I replied, 'you're coming to see the fight tonight aren't you?' "Wouldn't miss it for the world." 'Well after it's over I'll remind you about fighting at championship level eight times in two years! "Oh I didn't mean it like that, what I meant was, have you had any non-championship fights or scraps outside the club?" 'Oh I see, no, I will do after tonight though, it will be good to be a free agent again I am always thinking of my next pay-day fighting or the club. "I must ask you this, many of our readers, especially the women, will want to know, don't YOU think it's unfeminine for a girl to box." 'Well I must admit it's not exactly lady-like, in the accepted sense of the word lady, but let's not beat about the bush, I'm no lesbian I can tell you. There are one or two women boxers around who are gay, just as a few male fighters probably are, but at any function organised by the club for example, you'll find nearly all the girls bring husbands or boyfriends, it's mostly the young ones who stick together. "Right fine, on a distantly related topic, how do you feel about mixed boxing, that is man against woman, boy versus girl?" 'We don't stage mixed matches at the club and I've never even seen one. As to whether I agree with them, well no not really. It's not matching like with like. Would breast punching be allowed for example? If I was in the ring with a man and he hit me in the tits, I'd make damn sure he couldn't walk for a week. Oh no, I wouldn't mind watching a mixed match, just for interest, but on the whole, I don't think it's a serious proposition, and whatever else you say about boxing, in the final analysis, it's always a serious business.' "So what's your idea of a perfect match, for yourself?" 'I like to win, but I don't like too easy a fight. I prefer to box with women nearer my own age. I fought a couple of teenagers last year and they seemed so artless. Good fighters but so naive, I think you need a few years in the ring before you car call yourself a boxer. No amount of training and watching can make up for actual bouts. I like longish bouts, at least fifteen, preferably twenty rounds, or fighting to a finish, which we sometimes do at the SEWBC, but not as often as we should I think. Fighting unlimited rounds is the ultimate test of a woman's courage as far as I'm concerned, in fours of course. When you see two women waiting in the ring for the start of one of these fights, you've got to hand it to them, they've got guts. One of them is going to get knocked senseless and it may take a very long time. Neither will step out of that ring without having taken a hell of a lot of punishment. Then she dropped a bombshell. Do you know that me and my opponent have agreed to unlimited rounds tonight?' Cathy gasped, "Why." 'We've fought twice before and each won so we thought we'd make sure my last fight at the club didn't end in a draw or a points decision.' "Doesn't the prospect worry you?" 'Yes, but it will be my last championship fight so I can take my time getting over it.' "What an attitude," thought the journalist, her admiration for the brunette complete. "Finally," she said, "if you had a daughter, rather than a son, would you be pleased to see her taking up boxing?" 'As long as it's really what she wanted to do yes, but I wouldn't try to influence her.' 'After a moment's reflection she added, 'no that's rubbish, you can't influence anyone where boxing's concerned, no-one gets into a boxing ring unless they really want to.' "Thanks very much for your candid answers Angie," she got up, straightened her skirt and turned to leave. "See you tonight." 'Yes come to the dressing room before the fight, I shall be pleased to have some company.'