Say what you want about Ebanie Bridges, and many have–myself included, but you have to admit that the naughty Aussie can fight. She proved this by putting an early and violent end to the maiden defense of her IBF world bantamweight title versus her mandatory challenger and sworn enemy, Shannon O’Connell.
“Not bad for a skanky stripper,” Bridges boasted after her eight-round demolition of O’Connell last night in Leeds. Anyone who has been paying attention to the acceleration of this blood feud over the last several months understands the reference point of Ebanie’s proclamation as one of many insults O’Connell slapped her with throughout their war of words. A bit of trash talk, incidentally, which Bridges embraced and co-opted by labeling her squad of seconds and supporters Team Skanky Stripper.
The defending champion remarked in the lead-up to Saturday’s hotly-anticipated title fight that her victory was “written in the stars.” Always the center of her own universe, yesterday evening the planets aligned above Bridges and she dictated the spinning of Earth’s axis to her own preferred pace and direction, resulting in her hand being raised after fewer than sixteen brutal minutes in which she gained a huge measure of revenge over O’Connell and no small degree of respect from her long list of critics. Again, I will be the first to admit that I count myself among them.
Things got off to a shaky start for the defending champion, however, as O’Connell enjoyed early success in fending off the swarming attack of Bridges by creating just enough distance with jabs and body blows to retaliate with sharp right hands over Ebanie’s initially lazy jabs.
With twenty seconds remaining in the first round, Shannon dug her right hand into Bridges’ midsection before immediately bringing it upstairs to crash against the champion’s jawline. Momentarily bereft of her equilibrium, Ebanie performed a backward stutter-step with a slight list to her starboard side but righted the ship just before running aground. In an effort to regain her sea legs and sense of whereabouts, she was forced to do the previously unthinkable and embrace O’Connell to ride the storm out.
Determined to establish and maintain a frantic pace, Bridges continued to surge forward when action resumed in round two. Whether this strategy would work to her advantage or be her undoing only time would tell. Shannon, though she curiously abandoned her jab from this point forward, countered well and found ways in which to halt Ebanie’s momentum, albeit briefly, and took the early lead by putting the first two stanzas in her column.
The turning of the tide came within the first twenty seconds of the third round. First knocking O’Connell off-balance with a stiff left jab, Bridges seized the opportunity by pouncing on her compromised adversary with a glancing left lead succeeded by a flush right hook that sent the challenger to the deck where she took an eight-count from one knee wearing a combined look of perplexity and utter exhaustion.
It was at this point that Bridges assumed command of the bout which, for O’Connell, became an exercise in fighting for survival. Given her often traumatic backstory, this is something with which she is intimately familiar and has taught her countless invaluable lessons. Some skirmishes you win and others you lose but the objective, whether in boxing or in life itself, is to keep punching. Shannon did exactly that last night, despite the quite obvious fact that this just wasn’t her night. The relentless onslaught of right hands from Bridges saw to that, deforming the left side of O'Connell's face into a grotesque caricature.
Bridges’ stifling full-court press not only removed O’Connell’s jab from the equation, but also totally nullified Shannon’s customary employment of feints, pivots, and varying punching angles. The champion took a page from Tyson Fury’s book by leaning her bulkier frame on O’Connell during clinches or bending her over double while backed into a corner, adding significantly to the fatigue factor.
The bitter rivals slugged it out at center ring, swinging for the fences. O’Connell was looking to summon a game-changing counterpunch while Bridges uncorked a heavy volume of shots upstairs and down to set up what seemed to be an inevitable coup de grace, very much enjoying what she would later celebrate as bullying the bully.
Referee Howard Foster, who showed great restraint in giving O’Connell the benefit of the doubt for as long as he did, finally waved the fight off at the 1:45 mark of round eight. Bridges trapped Shannon against the ropes and battered her with a flurry of unanswered punches, putting an unpredictably disquieting end to months of heated negotiations and slanderous insults.
When I mentioned earlier that Bridges won the respect of her naysayers, however begrudging it may be, such was not the case for O’Connell. Those hoping to witness a hug of the hatchet-burying kind, or a congratulatory handshake at the bare minimum, would be left wanting in this regard. As Howard Foster lifted the victorious Bridges’ arm at center ring, Shannon put her own exclamation point on their feud in the form of a raised middle finger.
Just shy of turning 40 and now with three unsuccessful world title bids on her resume, Shannon O’Connell will have a nearly day-long flight back to Australia on which to begin the process of resting, recuperating, and pondering her future.
Her personal opinion of Ebanie Bridges notwithstanding–or mine or yours, for that matter–the Blonde Bomber earned her nickname the hard way last night in Leeds. Bridges has made it quite clear that this is her world and the rest of us are just living in it. That’s for everyone else to deal with, like it or not. Ebanie is obviously fine with it either way.
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