What a mess.
I travelled to this beach because I had heard that some of the 2nd best titfighters in the world would be here competing. Instead of a series of structured, organized 1v1s (such as at the excellent Madrid Titfight Classic last month, won by... well, let's not brag about it), what I find is complete chaos. Some girls are straight brawling, there's a woman running around trying to bang random guys, there was even a food fight at some point judging by the ice cream everywhere. Just as I think that I'll have to go somewhere else to see a titfight today, a pair of figures in a classic bearhug to the side of the big melee gets my attention.
It's Sophie! It's Mia!! It's a titfight!!!
I bite my lip as I approach the bookie, eager for action but uncertain of my own heart. To me, Sophie is a proven commodity; she's got excellent size, she works for positions that benefit her strengths, and she will push through the pain for as long as her body is able. Mia, on the other hand, is all mystery. She's huge - several cups bigger than Sophie's enormous pair - but without ever facing her, I have no way to measure her skill, her grit, her booby quality. At this level, it would be foolish to bet purely on size, especially given my battle-tested knowledge of Sophie's talent. She feels like the logical choice, and yet...
It's the very memory of a certain titfight with Sophie that causes my doubt. Because for all the danger she poses, I know first-hand that with the right ferocity, firmness, and persistence, Sophie can be grinded out in certain positions. One that I've personally confirmed? The bearhug...
"Put it all on Mia," I say to the bookie as I peel off a set of bills and place them on his counter. Moving toward the action, I prepare for a tremendous show...
