- Oct 5, 2014
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If William Howard Taft ever sat on anyone that's all she wrote.
Presidential Beatdown Corona Crush!
- Thread starter Captain Sasquatch
- Start date
- Jun 9, 2014
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Carter? Carter?
That simpleton vagina would surrender faster than France.
Fvkk georgia.
- Jun 10, 2014
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PLAY-IN ROUND RESULT: JOHNSON -VS- ARTHUR
Tale of the tape here showed Arthur with the height and weight advantage in this one. However, early in the fight it was clear that Johnson had gotten some “dirty tactics” training, and he immediately engaged in eye-gouging, ear-biting, and kidney-punching.
Turns out, Johnson is associated with Andrew Jackson, the “bad boy” of the tourney, and finished off Arthur with a punch to the junk that dropped the larger combatant, never to recover.
JOHNSON Wins!
Tale of the tape here showed Arthur with the height and weight advantage in this one. However, early in the fight it was clear that Johnson had gotten some “dirty tactics” training, and he immediately engaged in eye-gouging, ear-biting, and kidney-punching.
Turns out, Johnson is associated with Andrew Jackson, the “bad boy” of the tourney, and finished off Arthur with a punch to the junk that dropped the larger combatant, never to recover.
JOHNSON Wins!
- Jun 10, 2014
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PLAY-IN ROUND RESULT: CLINTON -VS- COOLIDGE
In our final play-in battle, we pit another two lawyers (shocking) in a slap-fight. Again, training came into play here, as Coolidge, a trained tailor, and married to the daughter of a cobbler, was no match for Clinton, who grew up in a white trash home with a hussy mother who married an abusive drunk...one in which Clinton learned “how to beat a ho” techniques.....and Coolidge was his “ho”.
CLINTON Wins!
In our final play-in battle, we pit another two lawyers (shocking) in a slap-fight. Again, training came into play here, as Coolidge, a trained tailor, and married to the daughter of a cobbler, was no match for Clinton, who grew up in a white trash home with a hussy mother who married an abusive drunk...one in which Clinton learned “how to beat a ho” techniques.....and Coolidge was his “ho”.
CLINTON Wins!
- Jun 10, 2014
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Ok everyone, the brutally uninteresting play in fights are over and only 32 presidents remain! Who will be the POTUS with the MOSTUS? Fight #1 in the next round is the legendary Abraham Lincoln against Cadet Bone Spurs himself! We may take a little while to let this matchup marinate, let the tension build a bit.
- Jun 11, 2014
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- Mar 27, 2016
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This whole thread is so great. I do agree those 18th century and early 19th century guys grew up tough and would be tough outs.
- Jun 11, 2014
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Teddy Roosevelt was shot from point blank range, the bullet lodged in his chest. He was in route to a 90 minute speech, which he gave before agreeing to be taken to the hospital for treatment. Abe got shot and had to go lay down, where he died. I mean, come on man, what a candy ass.
- Nov 16, 2017
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Roosevelt vs.Taft
Given that Roosevelt versus Taft is a grudge match you've got to think that Taft comes out swinging. You also got to think he collapses from a massive coronary before he ever gets halfway across the ring. Assuming he's still upright, Teddy R would be raining hay-makers in pugilistic perfection all while pontificating on the merit of men testing their mettle. Teddy rough rides right over Taft into round 3.
Nixon vs Kennedy.
Kennedy's cardio keeps it close. Nixon looks bad early sweating under the lights. When Kennedy does finally start to sweat, his pancake makeup backfires, blinding him. Nixon, not unwilling to pass up on a dirty hit, gives Kennedy the worst shot to the head he's gotten since he was riding past the grassy knoll. Nixon in a close one.
Eisenhower vs Tyler
Tyler shows up expecting to win. He's so confident he doesn't even take the silver spoon out of his mouth when he is lacing up. Eisenhower has no time for American aristocracy and doesn't stand on ceremony. Ten seconds in, Tyler feels like he's been hit by the entire military industrial complex. Sorry John, Ike to round three is manifest destiny.
Harrison vs. Jefferson
The smart money pours in behind Harrison. Military man versus renaissance man; it's a no-brainer, right? Jefferson is counting on it. His financial desperation provides him with the motivation and he bets everything he has left in Vegas against the smart money. He shows nothing in his match with the ill-prepared and unmotivated Harding. In truth Jefferson has spent the six months before the tourney learning everything there is to know about fighting, including the mysterious arts of the far east. His superior intelligence crafts a plan to let Harrison beat himself. Harrison steps up certain that he's going to make Tommy go down like Fallen Timbers and the crowd is eager to see the smug statesman hit the canvas. Early on Jefferson simply defends and uses his superior size to weather the blows from the at first bemused, and then increasing frustrated Harrison. Once he's worn Harrison down, Tom draws upon his knowledge of human anatomy to target a quick direct blow to William's vagus nerve and puts him to sleep. Tommy's haul from the bout makes Vegas madder than the French when they realized they sold some of the best farmland in the world for 3 cents an acre. Jefferson to round 3.
Given that Roosevelt versus Taft is a grudge match you've got to think that Taft comes out swinging. You also got to think he collapses from a massive coronary before he ever gets halfway across the ring. Assuming he's still upright, Teddy R would be raining hay-makers in pugilistic perfection all while pontificating on the merit of men testing their mettle. Teddy rough rides right over Taft into round 3.
Nixon vs Kennedy.
Kennedy's cardio keeps it close. Nixon looks bad early sweating under the lights. When Kennedy does finally start to sweat, his pancake makeup backfires, blinding him. Nixon, not unwilling to pass up on a dirty hit, gives Kennedy the worst shot to the head he's gotten since he was riding past the grassy knoll. Nixon in a close one.
Eisenhower vs Tyler
Tyler shows up expecting to win. He's so confident he doesn't even take the silver spoon out of his mouth when he is lacing up. Eisenhower has no time for American aristocracy and doesn't stand on ceremony. Ten seconds in, Tyler feels like he's been hit by the entire military industrial complex. Sorry John, Ike to round three is manifest destiny.
Harrison vs. Jefferson
The smart money pours in behind Harrison. Military man versus renaissance man; it's a no-brainer, right? Jefferson is counting on it. His financial desperation provides him with the motivation and he bets everything he has left in Vegas against the smart money. He shows nothing in his match with the ill-prepared and unmotivated Harding. In truth Jefferson has spent the six months before the tourney learning everything there is to know about fighting, including the mysterious arts of the far east. His superior intelligence crafts a plan to let Harrison beat himself. Harrison steps up certain that he's going to make Tommy go down like Fallen Timbers and the crowd is eager to see the smug statesman hit the canvas. Early on Jefferson simply defends and uses his superior size to weather the blows from the at first bemused, and then increasing frustrated Harrison. Once he's worn Harrison down, Tom draws upon his knowledge of human anatomy to target a quick direct blow to William's vagus nerve and puts him to sleep. Tommy's haul from the bout makes Vegas madder than the French when they realized they sold some of the best farmland in the world for 3 cents an acre. Jefferson to round 3.
- Jun 11, 2014
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See post #127.
Though I didn’t realize they made a movie of the book. I’ll have to check it out.
- Jun 10, 2014
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- Jun 10, 2014
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This is beautiful prose and great analysis. Look for the battles to resume shortly.
One thing - you appear to be handicapping the fights at presidential ages, but just a reminder that this is a fight at each combatants peak physical condition in their life, so Nixon v Kennedy might have a little different flavor than your prediction.
- Oct 5, 2014
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March Madness has turned into April Anarchy. Tournament resumes tomorrow in the box!
- Nov 16, 2017
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Lincoln vs. Trump
This is a YUGE match. The greatest president ever versus Abraham Lincoln. Trump takes a lead bigly in the prematch trash talk; intimating that Lincoln’s own wife paid to have him assassinated. At a chiseled 175 lbs “The Great Emancipator” frees the blood from Donnie’s southern lip almost immediately after the opening bell. In an assault that would make Sherman blush, Abe shows his dedication to preserving the union of his fist to Trump’s body; smothering him with punches. Sputtering with rage , 45 fires his manager halfway through the fight. He hires a tag team of General Jim “Mad Dog” Mattis and Vince McMahon. Mattis tells Trump to use his weight advantage and take the fight to the ground. Lincoln is no slouch in the grapple, but Trump isn’t one of the Clary’s Grove boys. Abe’s got skill; but in this case he’s out of his weight class. Rushing him early, The Donald takes Abe down and pounds him like Fort Sumter. After a savage beating, Lincoln manages to scurry away like Irvin McDowell trying to cross Bull Run. Regaining composure, Lincoln wisely decides to keep his distance and try to catch Trump lunging. Suddenly, from the first row a starting pistol is fired by Triple-H, who McMahon put up to the distraction. An obviously startled and distraught Lincoln wheels around trying to find the shooter, allowing McMahon to slide Trump a steel chair, which he uses to split the back of Abe’s head like a rail. Trump makes death matches great again. Trump to round three.
Pierce vs. Reagan
Franklin’s wife didn’t want him to fight, and she was probably right. This one goes on longer than it needs to because Ronnie’s poor vision leaves avenues for Pierce to dive and dodge. Pierce runs from the determined, if raw, Reagan with all the vigor of a fugitive slave. His return to bondage comes, not from the mighty right of Reagan, but from running crotch first into a turnbuckle. Overcome with agony, he faints from the pain. For Reagan it’s morning again in death matches – he advances to round three.
Grant vs. Polk
Polk is shrewd but frail standing next to the imposing bearded Grant. He shows up hoping to steal one like the Republic of Texas from Mexico; and makes a good show of it early. He has the winning tactics, but the strategy is all Grant’s. James continues to bob and weave sticking jabs and scoring, but the General is so sauced he doesn’t feel it. Grant advances menacingly - arms in close to his side in a bully stance. Polk is soon out of places to run and begins trading blows with Grant. The two stand toe to toe wailing on one another, but it is Polk that collapses first from a shot to the abdomen that makes him long for the kidney stones that stymied his manhood. Bloodied but unbeaten, Grant staggers to round 3.
Monroe vs. Quincy Adams
John Quincy ain’t even the best Adams, let alone the best fighter. Like the Battle of Trenton, this one is over in a flash. Unlike that go-round it’s JQ that is WIA. Adams tries fleeing like his dad from the presidency, but to no avail. Thin but powerful, James rains blows down that leave Adams more of a wreck than the former’s namesake town in Liberia. Unfortunately for John, there’s no Compromise that can stop the expansion of swelling through his cheeks and jaw; only the merciful intervention of the fight doctor puts an end to Monroe’s doctrine of dominating JQ’s northern hemisphere. Monroe marches on to round three.
This is a YUGE match. The greatest president ever versus Abraham Lincoln. Trump takes a lead bigly in the prematch trash talk; intimating that Lincoln’s own wife paid to have him assassinated. At a chiseled 175 lbs “The Great Emancipator” frees the blood from Donnie’s southern lip almost immediately after the opening bell. In an assault that would make Sherman blush, Abe shows his dedication to preserving the union of his fist to Trump’s body; smothering him with punches. Sputtering with rage , 45 fires his manager halfway through the fight. He hires a tag team of General Jim “Mad Dog” Mattis and Vince McMahon. Mattis tells Trump to use his weight advantage and take the fight to the ground. Lincoln is no slouch in the grapple, but Trump isn’t one of the Clary’s Grove boys. Abe’s got skill; but in this case he’s out of his weight class. Rushing him early, The Donald takes Abe down and pounds him like Fort Sumter. After a savage beating, Lincoln manages to scurry away like Irvin McDowell trying to cross Bull Run. Regaining composure, Lincoln wisely decides to keep his distance and try to catch Trump lunging. Suddenly, from the first row a starting pistol is fired by Triple-H, who McMahon put up to the distraction. An obviously startled and distraught Lincoln wheels around trying to find the shooter, allowing McMahon to slide Trump a steel chair, which he uses to split the back of Abe’s head like a rail. Trump makes death matches great again. Trump to round three.
Pierce vs. Reagan
Franklin’s wife didn’t want him to fight, and she was probably right. This one goes on longer than it needs to because Ronnie’s poor vision leaves avenues for Pierce to dive and dodge. Pierce runs from the determined, if raw, Reagan with all the vigor of a fugitive slave. His return to bondage comes, not from the mighty right of Reagan, but from running crotch first into a turnbuckle. Overcome with agony, he faints from the pain. For Reagan it’s morning again in death matches – he advances to round three.
Grant vs. Polk
Polk is shrewd but frail standing next to the imposing bearded Grant. He shows up hoping to steal one like the Republic of Texas from Mexico; and makes a good show of it early. He has the winning tactics, but the strategy is all Grant’s. James continues to bob and weave sticking jabs and scoring, but the General is so sauced he doesn’t feel it. Grant advances menacingly - arms in close to his side in a bully stance. Polk is soon out of places to run and begins trading blows with Grant. The two stand toe to toe wailing on one another, but it is Polk that collapses first from a shot to the abdomen that makes him long for the kidney stones that stymied his manhood. Bloodied but unbeaten, Grant staggers to round 3.
Monroe vs. Quincy Adams
John Quincy ain’t even the best Adams, let alone the best fighter. Like the Battle of Trenton, this one is over in a flash. Unlike that go-round it’s JQ that is WIA. Adams tries fleeing like his dad from the presidency, but to no avail. Thin but powerful, James rains blows down that leave Adams more of a wreck than the former’s namesake town in Liberia. Unfortunately for John, there’s no Compromise that can stop the expansion of swelling through his cheeks and jaw; only the merciful intervention of the fight doctor puts an end to Monroe’s doctrine of dominating JQ’s northern hemisphere. Monroe marches on to round three.
Last edited:
- Nov 16, 2017
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@5-Star Finger , while your reviews are intriguing, you have a mistaken understanding of your role here.
I, and I alone, will be calling the outcome of the fights, based on the arguments, debates, and insights provided in this thread and in the chatbox...together with my own biases and need for self-amusement. Your job is to provide that insight - your own hopes, fears, uncertainties, doubts, and anecdotes as to why you believe one fighter will win.
What I don’t need is some yahoo telling better stories than me, undermining both my authority, and my will to live.
Know your place, buddy.
I, and I alone, will be calling the outcome of the fights, based on the arguments, debates, and insights provided in this thread and in the chatbox...together with my own biases and need for self-amusement. Your job is to provide that insight - your own hopes, fears, uncertainties, doubts, and anecdotes as to why you believe one fighter will win.
What I don’t need is some yahoo telling better stories than me, undermining both my authority, and my will to live.
Know your place, buddy.
- Nov 16, 2017
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What I'm writing is one man's version of how it goes down, with a little historical flair and rhetorical flourish. Please consider my musings like a Socratic dialogue - and give its reality as much weight. Take what you want and disregard the rest. You're still the grand pooh-bah.
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