Female Boxing Federation

Valenzuela: The atmosphere in the MGM Grand Garden Arena is electric as the lights dim and the crowd roars in anticipation. Tonight's featured bout is an exhibition Muay Thai kickboxing match that promises to be a clash of styles, skill, and sheer determination. In one corner, we have Rachel, the 29-year-old British K1 kickboxer, standing tall at 5 feet 10 inches and weighing in at 138 pounds. A former British champion, Rachel is known for her precise kicks and devastating strikes. Hailing from Manchester, this "Proud Manc" has entertained both small crowds in Thai stadiums and large capacity venues, drawing inspiration from none other than Tiffany Van Soest. With a reputation for not tolerating anything less than a true contender, Rachel is ready to put on a show tonight.

Valenzuela: In the other corner, we have the fearless Karla Consuela Valenzuela Lopez, or as she’s better known, La Princesa. At 5 feet 3 inches and 120 pounds, this 32-year-old Mexicana boxer may be giving up some size, but she’s certainly not lacking in heart or experience. A seasoned fighter in boxing, NHB fist fights, and MMA, Valenzuela is here to prove that her boxing prowess can stand up to Rachel’s kickboxing skills. Known for her strategic approach and relentless spirit, La Princesa doesn’t just step into the ring to fight—she steps in to dominate. She’s got the Latina fire coursing through her veins and is all about delivering a lesson in pure, unfiltered boxing.

Valenzuela: With Rachel coming in as the favorite at -250, the odds reflect her experience in Muay Thai and kickboxing, her reach advantage, and her background as a former British champion. The betting community sees Rachel’s versatility and striking power as major factors in her favor. On the other side, Valenzuela comes in at +200, with many bettors believing her aggressive boxing style and ability to close the distance quickly could turn the fight into a brawl, where she has the advantage.

Valenzuela: Both fighters are known for their toughness, and neither is willing to back down. As they prepare to square off, the crowd is buzzing with excitement, eager to see which fighter will impose their will and style on the other. The bell is about to ring, and all eyes are on the ring as Las Vegas prepares for a showdown between two of the most determined fighters in the sport. Will Rachel's kicks and reach prove too much for Valenzuela, or will La Princesa's fiery boxing technique and unbreakable spirit lead her to victory? Let the battle begin!

Valenzuela: I stand in my red corner, swiping the air with a variety of combos, jab, hook, cross, uppercut, to stay warmed up and to keep the crowd amused. Wearing a pristine white sports bra, some white and blue gladiator style boxing trunks, barefoot and bright green boxing gloves, and a white mouth guard.

Valenzuela:    Valenzuela:  

RachelW: *Outfit

RachelW: *me

Valenzuela: I stare blankly at you while the ref gives out her instructions, rolling my shoulders to stay loose, then give out a tap of my gloves. I know there is only one way to win this fight, and you almost certainly will know my strategy as well. The ref asks if we are ready, and both of us nod affirmative. Then we are sent back to our corners, and I back away from you. I start bouncing on the balls of my feet, as I wait for the bell, and form an orthodox stance, with left glove and foot leading. DING!!!!

Valenzuela: I watch you carefully as we meet in the center of the ring, my eyes never leaving your form. You look focused, your stance solid and confident. I know you’re sizing me up, so I keep my gloves up, tight to my face, and stay light on my feet, bouncing slightly as I prepare for your attack. The first jab comes in quick, but I see it coming and easily deflect it with my left glove. The second jab follows, and I slip to my right, just enough to let it pass by without making contact. I know you’re feeling me out, trying to get a sense of my timing and reactions. But I’ve got my own plan.

Valenzuela: Then I see it—your right leg starts to twist, and I know what’s coming. You’re going for an early roundhouse kick to the ribs. I brace myself, tightening my core and shifting my weight onto my back foot. As your kick comes in, I drop my left elbow down to meet it, deflecting some of the force away from my ribs. The impact still stings, but it’s manageable as I protect my body from the shattering impact. I use the momentum from the block to push forward, stepping in close to eliminate the space you need for another kick. I quickly fire off a sharp left jab aimed at your face, looking to keep you on the defensive. Without giving you time to react, I follow up with a powerful right hook aimed at your body, trying to dig into your side and force you to feel my power. I stay close, not giving you any room to use your kicks, pressing forward with aggression, and keeping the pressure on. I need to get inside and stay there, make this a close-quarters fight where my boxing skills can shine. I’ve got to keep you guessing and off-balance.

Valenzuela: I feel the intensity of the this high impact fight all around me, as the audience becomes animated, and I feel your glove push against my shoulder, trying to create some distance, but I sense that you are staying in knee striking range, and that I could be in a new world of hurt if I don’t react fast. As soon as I sense your intent to throw that right knee up towards my ribs, I quickly twist to my right, using my left arm to push against your shoulder to help brace myself against your knee. The knee strikes hard, just grazing my side, but my twist allows me absorb some of the impact and minimize the damage. A sharp pain radiates through my side where your knee made contact, the dull ache spreading with each breath, but I grit my teeth and push through, refusing to let it slow me down.

Valenzuela: Seeing you start to pull back, I press forward, and take your jab on my gloves. I know you’re trying to create space to reset and use your range advantage. I can't allow that. As you move to retreat, I press forward aggressively, refusing to give you the distance you're seeking. I lower my stance slightly to get underneath your line of sight and drive a rapid left uppercut toward your solar plexus, hoping to punch my left glove between your guard and catch you off guard as you backpedal. Without missing a beat, I pivot on my left foot and swing a vicious right hook aimed at your jaw, trying to curve my punch around your guard, looking to punish you for trying to create space and force you back into close quarters where I can continue to box you. The fight is in an early stage, both of us fresh, and I don’t want to overcommit and get caught by one of your kicks, especially after getting pounded by your last knee strike.

Valenzuela: My uppercut lands on your forearms, doing now harm, but it was still mission accomplished as it allows me to punch a right hook into your jaw line that clearly rattles you. I stay with you lock step as you retreat further back, and suddenly I see your leg come up, and knowing a kick is coming, I rush forward to close the distance, cutting it in half, and cutting down the power, as the push of your foot against my chest sends me back a couple of steps. I’m able to quickly regain my balance, not giving you the space you're desperately trying to create. I see you winding up that big overhand right, trying to take back control and put me on the defensive. As your fist comes down, I duck low and to my left, just barely avoiding the punch as your right glove comes down on my right shoulder. I feel the air whoosh past my head and see an opening. With your arm extended, I explode upwards, driving a quick left hook aimed at your exposed ribs, hoping to make you pay for overcommitting to that punch. A split second later, I shift my weight onto my back foot and twist my hips, launching a right uppercut toward your chin, hoping to really rock you hard.

Valenzuela: I see you wobble on the ropes, your head snapping back from my uppercut, and I know I've got you on the ropes, both literally and figuratively. The crowd’s roar fills my ears, and I feel the adrenaline surge through my veins. You suddenly dart left, and I move to my right to try to cut you off, but a jab comes out, connecting with my cheek, and my head snaps back as your glove compresses around my face. It hurts but I’ll gladly trade an uppercut for a jab anytime! The punch gives you the needed space, though, to circle around me off the ropes and move back towards the centre of the ring, opening some distance between us. At 5 ft 10 in, you’ve got a big reach advantage over me, and this is a dangerous lace for me to be, so I begin to circle to my right, bobbing erratically from side to side, as I look for an opening.

Valenzuela: You have escaped into the middle of the ring, creating a dangerous situation for me, given your greater reach. And here it comes, a right round house kick at my ribs, a powerful kick that will really hurt, maybe even crack a rib. I’m forced to drop my left glove, to block the kick, and also to step to my right as the force of your kick drives my glove into my side. You land in a southpaw stance, and then your southpaw cross comes out, so your left trailing glove come across and SMASHES into my left cheek. It’s a powerful blow, leaving me blinking my eyes. Photo not found. I try to ignore the buzzing inside my head, and refocus. The hook follows closely thereafter, and I the dip at my knees, to let it swoosh over my head, the air making my air fly. I now step forward to close the distance between us, and as I start to rise, I try to work a left shovel hook into your liver region, and then, changing levels try to clatter your jaw with a right hook, trying to go over your left shoulder. I don’t retreat, I need to keep you in my range, otherwise you will pick me apart with jabs and kicks.

Valenzuela: Things are moving at warp speed, my shovel hook hits hard, but you use your bigger body size to absorb the blow, and move back from my right hook, making my hook only a lighter glancing blow than what it would have been. As I begin to pull my right back to guard, your left uppercut, nicely angled, sweeps up, smacking me in the jaw, and oh baby….we are in uppercut territory, as my jaw gets a solid jolt from your gloved fist, punching my face to the left and forcing me to bite down hard on my mouth guard as spit sprays out of my mouth and I get a good taste of blood inside my mouth. My vision blurs for a moment, but experience tells me that a big right is going to come out fast, so I step to my left, and push myself into you, as your right cross just roughly scaped the right side of my face. I try to wrap both arms around your middle to gain stability after getting badly rocked by the uppercut, and I try to fight back, bringing my right leg up and trying to drive my knee into your quads, trying to use a play from your playbook.

Valenzuela: I feel your glove pressing against my face, the leather smearing the sweat over my face as you push my head back. I try to tighten my neck muscles to resist, not wanting to let you get an angle that would twist my neck, because I know that if you get space between us, I’ll be in a world of hurt. I can sense you're trying to create room for a big body kick or even just enough space so you can use straight punches on my face or body. I tighten my grip around your midsection and instead of letting you push me back, I drop my weight down slightly and dig my feet into the mat to resist. I take a quick step forward with my right foot to close the gap even more, pressing my face into your chest.mtc

Valenzuela: You push hard on my head, you’re a strong strapping gal, so I decide to use it against you. I dip my head even lower and to the right, trying to slip under your left arm. As I do this, I twist my body to my right to create a tighter angle, keeping my right arm wrapped around your back while letting my left arm come off and freeing my gloved fist. Now, with my left, I go for a couple of short, sharp hooks to your lower side ribs, aiming to target the soft spot below your ribcage. I know from earlier that you winced when I hit your liver region, so I’m looking to exploit a region that might already be tender. I use my body weight to drive into you, staying low to keep you from getting the leverage for any powerful pushes on my head. I’m hoping to break down your midsection and sap your energy, knowing that I can’t hold you forever with only one arm, and to mix things up, I throw a left knee towards your inner thigh. I now grit my teeth as I try to stay in close.

Valenzuela: I sense your shift as you step left and I can’t maintain the clinch, as I’m only using my right arm, and you can twist out of it, and use the rotation to launch a retreating roundhouse kick under my left arm, and smash your shin into my ribs. You're faster than I anticipated, and the kick lands hard, your shin smashing into my ribs with a sharp, bone-jarring impact. I grunt loudly as the pain flares through my side, and I can feel the air rush out of my lungs. I stumble back a step, my body twisting slightly from the force, and for a moment, my vision blurs as the pain radiates.

Valenzuela: I grit my teeth against the pain, knowing I can't stay at a distance from you and win. Ignoring the screaming in my side, I try to close the distance between us fast, lunging forward, refusing to let you have the distance you're seeking. I lower my stance to brace myself and shoot in with a quick step, my hands coming up to guard my head as I close the gap and attempt to neutralize your reach advantage. I twist my hips and try to throw a short, sharp right uppercut aimed toward your chin, hoping to slam it between your guard, trying to keep you off balance and follow this up with a left hook towards your jaw and a right straight at your chin. My ribs fucking hurt, but I push the pain down to try and stay in the fight.

Valenzuela: That roundhouse kick to my ribs is making me breath hard, and I can't cover the distance between us to get into boxing range fast enough, before your push kick comes out and connects with my gloves and pushes me back a yard. I move to my right as your right body kick comes out fast and furious, which increases the distance it has to travel, and I manage to lower my left arm as well to try to block with my glove. It still sends me further to my right, but I regain my footing, and then again try to lunge forward, trying to get into jabbing range with my left, desperately trying to split your guard for a followup right cross towards your right eye if I get in range.

Valenzuela: I feel my left jab connect solidly with your gloves, and my right cross follows through, also hammering into your guard. Even though you manage to block both punches, I can tell my punches are pushing you back and forcing you into a defensive posture. I see your gloves come up in a peekaboo guard, and I see you dip your body, I realize you're setting up for a counter. I brace myself as the body hook slams into my side, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my already bruised ribs. I grunt but keep my guard tight and high. It’s hard staying in close with someone 7 inches taller than you, but the alternative is far worse for me.

Valenzuela: As you reload for a head-height hook, your focus shifts slightly upwards, alerting me as you prepare to launch the hook, and I duck down, lowering my stance even further, risky, I know, and step forward into you, pushing my forehead into your chest. I use my left arm to cover my head to guard against the incoming hook, hoping to absorb some of the impact on my arm. I feel your hook glance off my arm and shoulder, not landing as cleanly as you intended. Being in contact, I immediately try to throw a left and right short, rapid-fire hooks targeting the ribs and liver area, hoping to wear you down. I keep trying to push forward, hoping to force you towards the ropes, my ribs are throbbing, and every breath is painful, sweat dripping from my face onto my chest. I pivot slightly to my right, aiming to drive my left knee up into your navel, trying to keep you under pressure.

Valenzuela: I feel the energy in the crowd surge as my knee slams into your navel, and I see your body buckle, your legs wobbling from the impact. I’m thinking you’re hurt, and you’re turtling to protect yourself, and I have to use my lower centre of gravity to keep you on these ropes for the beatdown I intend to deliver. With you against the ropes, I tighten my guard, keeping my chin down to avoid any desperate counters. I immediately move in closer, almost chest-to-chest, using my left forearm to press against your right shoulder, trying to pin you further into the ropes.

Valenzuela: I throw a sharp right uppercut, aiming for your chin, trying to split through your guard. Then, without wasting a second, I shift my weight to my left leg and try to drive a quick left hook into your ribs, as I pull my forearm off your shoulder, and try to follow with a right hooking elbow towards your chin, staying in close. My ribs are burning, but I push through the pain, knowing I have to work you over relentlessly while I’ve got you on the ropes.

Valenzuela: My uppercut gets snagged on your forearms, but the elbow strike lands with a good thumping sound! Your positioning of your forearms however is very good, and easily allows you to slide your gloves across to lock them behind my neck, and your knee then strikes up, landing on the nerves in my thigh, my mouth opens in a big O from the pain, gasping, and you then use your greater body weight to twist me into the ropes, reversing our positions. I try to push in closer to squeeze out another knee strike.

Valenzuela: I feel the momentum shifting as you manages to twist us around, reversing our positions with your gloves locked behind my neck, using your weight advantage to force me back against the ropes. My thigh is throbbing from your earlier knee strike, Pain radiates through my leg. I expect you to keep the clinch on, and try to manipulate your leg into position for another knee strike, I tense my abs in anticipation, but instead, you break the clinch, and before I can react, you’re toe-to-toe with me, unloading a vicious combination. The left uppercut sneaks through my ill prepared guard, clipping my chin and snapping my head up. I grit my teeth, trying to absorb the impact, biting down hard on my mouth guard, spit spraying the air, sweat from my head spraying the air as well, but then the right cross comes hard and fast. It slams into the side of my face, making my vision blur for a moment, and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Before I can recover, your left hook crashes into the other side of my jaw, whipping my head back again.

Valenzuela: As the left hook lands, I roll with the punch, trying to minimize the impact, my legs wobble a little, the ropes digging into my back, and I feel the sting of each punch ripple through my skull. The crowd is roaring, sensing I’m in trouble. I explode forward, launching a desperate right hook toward your lower floating ribs, hoping to go under your left before you regain your guard, and try to push you back. I follow it up with a quick left jab, aiming for your chin, praying that I can create enough space to get off the ropes and reset before another brutal barrage is unleashed. My ribs are aching, my jaw is throbbing, and so does my thigh, but I dig deep, planting my feet to keep from buckling under the assault. I raise my guard higher, as I know I have to box toe to toe with the ropes on my back.

Valenzuela: My right hook lands on your arm, and not too much damage occurs, and then my jab falls short as you pull back to the centre of the ring. I’m “allowed” off the ropes, and as I approach you, your gloves are bouncing in front of your face, as I look for an opening. Suddenly I see your right cross coming and instinctively push my left guard to the centre, preparing to parry the punch to my  left, a move that would allow me to counter cross with my right. But the punch never comes, and instead the real attack comes from below—a right head kick that I never see coming. Your shin SMASHES hard into the side of my face with a sickening thud, leaving a bruise. My head snaps to the side, and I feel my knees buckle as the canvas rushes up to meet me. The kick was massively powerful, and my mouth guard pops out and bounces onto the canvass as I’m collapsing, my vision blurs, my body crumpling to the mat on my side, dazed and barely conscious. I can feel the pain spreading across my face, but the dizziness keeps me from pushing myself up. My arms are sluggish as I try to move them, but everything feels so fucking heavy. The ref steps in, and I know I’ve fallen into your brutal trap. I can hear a count commence as my face presses in the canavss…..ONE…..TWO…..THREE……FOUR…..FIVE…..

Valenzuela:

Valenzuela: I start to come around slowly, groggy, with a deep, throbbing pain radiating through my head like a relentless drumbeat. My face is pressed into the warm canvass, and as my eyes open, my vision is blurry, the ropes at the corner turnbuckle swirling together, and the ground feels like it's spinning beneath me. There's a high-pitched ringing in my ears, drowning out everything except the distant, echoing sound of the count. "...SIX... SEVEN..." My brain is foggy, and the slightest movement of my head feels like pushing through thick, heavy water.

Valenzuela: The pounding in my skull is unbearable, as if someone took a hammer to the side of my head. It wasn’t a hammer though, it was Rachel Webb’s shin! The last thing I remember was closing my guard to block a right straight, which never came, and then BAM! A head kick landing on my left side of my head. I try to lift my head, but it's like my neck forgot how to function. "...EIGHT..." Each breath comes out ragged, gasping and my chest feels tight, burning with every gasp of air I manage to suck in. My limbs feel disconnected from my body, sluggish, and my thoughts are jumbled, barely able to focus. "...NINE..." I blink, trying to clear the haze, but the pain is too overwhelming, stabbing into my temples and down the back of my neck. I force my eyes open wide, but the world still spins, and the familiar sting of failure settles deep in my gut as the count reaches its final beat……TEN!!!!

Key Moments: Turning Points in the Fight : The most telling moments came when Valenzuela managed to push Webb onto the ropes, briefly taking control of the fight with aggressive body shots. Valenzuela’s hooks to Webb’s liver and ribs seemed to hurt the British kickboxer, as she visibly winced and stumbled. This was Valenzuela’s best moment in the fight, using her close-range boxing skills to put Webb on the defensive. However, Webb's ability to recover quickly was on full display. After absorbing several hard shots, Webb reversed the position with a clinch and forced Valenzuela into the ropes. This reset allowed Webb to use her range advantage again, but Valenzuela made a critical mistake by lunging forward without fully resetting her defense. 

The Fatal Mistake: The Feint and Head Kick Combination :The turning point came at 2:34 into round 1, when Webb feigned a right cross, causing Valenzuela to move her guard to protect to parry. Anticipating a punch that never came, Valenzuela overcommitted her defense. Webb, capitalizing on Valenzuela’s reaction, launched a devastating right roundhouse kick that landed flush on Valenzuela’s left temple. The sound of Webb’s shin crashing into Valenzuela’s head echoed through the arena, and the crowd roared in response. Valenzuela’s failure to anticipate the kick proved costly. She crumpled to the canvas, her mouthguard dislodged by the impact, and was left dazed and unable to rise. The referee began the count as Valenzuela lay groggy, struggling to regain her bearings. Despite her fighting spirit, she was unable to recover in time, and the fight was called off after the ten-count. 

Conclusion: Lessons Learned:  This match was a clear demonstration of the importance of both strategy and execution in Muay Thai. Valenzuela’s aggression and heart were on full display, but her boxing-centered approach left her vulnerable to Webb’s more versatile striking game. Webb's ability to feint and land powerful kicks, combined with her control of range, proved to be the difference-maker. Valenzuela’s over-commitment to blocking the feinted punch left her open to a head kick that ultimately decided the match. This highlighted the risks of engaging a taller, more versatile opponent without properly adjusting defensive tactics. The knockout victory at 2:34 into round 1 was a testament to Webb’s superior striking technique and fight IQ. For Valenzuela, it was a lesson in the dangers of underestimating a kickboxer’s ability to mix up their attacks. Despite the brief fight, both fighters showed why they are respected in their respective disciplines, but Webb’s victory by knockout showed her ability to capitalize on any opening with precision and devastating force.