The Vengeance Scale: Hancock Warz Edition

This post is for that contingent of my readers who are also regular Bill Simmons readers. I'm sure most of you in that subset are well aware of Simmons' Vengeance Scale. (Those who aren't, see footnote.) There's something related to this that I'd been meaning to post on. But, before that, I was distracted by an e-mail Simmons reprinted in his follow-up column on Vengeance Scale entries that he missed the first time around:

Texas reader Kevin R.: "Where does Gwen Stefani rank on the Vengeance scale? I was expecting to see her at a 10.0, and was disappointed that she failed to make the cut. Here's a recap — teenage girl joins her brother's band. Falls in love with the bass player. Dates the bass player through high school. Gets dumped by the bass player. Gets very angry and writes a multi-platinum album of songs about the breakup, and what a jerk the bass player was. Bass player spends the rest of his life touring behind ex-girlfriend, who's now a huge star. Bass player's primary accomplishment in life is providing musical accompaniment to lyrics about what a jerk he is."

Hmm, I thought, surely not our Kevin Ray...

When first confronted with the allegation, Ray stated bluntly, "Fuck off. I'll kill you."

Ray seemed to think it outlandish to even consider the possibility of him writing in with detailed knowledge of No Doubt. Still, he contined to be elusive.

"I can neither confirm nor deny your query," Ray said. "Though it would be fun to be published in sports guy."

In this reporter's humble opinion, circumstantial evidence does point away from him. First, only a true No Doubt fan would put Gwen Stefani on the same level as Keyser "I killed everyone in your Friendster network" Soze. And keep in mind this band hit big with a song called "Spiderweb." Second, notice an inattention to grammar, especially that awkward and inappropriate use of the em-dash. Third, and perhaps most convincingly, the alleged No Doubt fan ends with the word "jerk." After speaking to several people close to Mr. Ray, I have it on good faith that he would have, undoubtedly, opted for "douchebag" in this instance.

We shall see.

Now, to get around to the original point of this post, I've always wanted to ask: Where would Hengst vs. Wright at Hancock in '04 rank on the Vengeance Scale. (See footnote 2.) This game, often referred to as "The Colorado Karma Game," launched the popular inside joke at the Hancock courts of saying, "I got him," when one is in fact entirely too tired to run out at the (dead-eye) shooter.

So where does it rank? And can we think of any other memorable grudge matches from Ball at the 'Cock?

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* The scale assigns a numerical value to certain acts of retribution, ranging from 1 to 10, with 10 being the most devestating. For instance, at 1.8: "George Costanza feeding lobster in an omelete to Jerry's non-lobster-eating [because it wasn't kosher -- ed.] girlfriend ... Scottie Pippen's dunk on Ewing's head in the '94 playoffs (the one where he stood over him and glared)." And a 10 is on par with Keyser Soze in The Usual Suspects.

** The origin of the Hengst-Wright throw-down dates back to a no-limit hold 'em poker game at Long's house. A field of about a dozen had been whittled down to six, with a pot of nearly 150 bucks on the line. Ryan Hengst was high-chip man, while Justin Cox, Chris Devidal, and I were all scrambling for our poker lives. Ryan and I were also drunk.

In one incredible hand, all four of us went all in before the flop, igniting a string of side pots and setting up one dramatic turn. When it came, the three low men lay vanquished, each of us showing pocket face cards, suited. Ryan stood victorious even though he had the worst pocket hand of the bunch. A great roar went up from the spectators. There was nashing of teeth and pulling of hair from the three just-eliminated competitors.

"That's BULLSHIT," I forcefully asserted. "You had the worst hand out of any of us!"

At this point things are a little hazy, but Ryan said something to the effect of, "I'm taking your chips — to Colorado!" (Witnesses, feel free to correct this recollection.)

The timing of the barb was crushing. Hengst had invoked the "boyfriend in Colorado" from the Nicole saga completely out of the blue and while the wound was still fresh.

It cut like a dull knife. "You motherfucker, how you gonna bring that shit up when I just lost 20 bucks and I'm fucking drunk?!?" I yelled.

Hengst unleashed a Faustian laugh and tipped back his beer.

"That shit ain't right!" I continued.

There then proceeded a bevy of shit-talking, in loud, vituperative, slurred voices. In the end, Hengst had promised to shut me down the next time we balled, and I was more than determined to light his ass up.

Needless to say, that day came, and, oh yes, I had my revenge. I drove for lay-ups. I rained down threes so heavy it hurt the head. I stutter-stepped like Paul Pierce on Othella Harrington and dropped jumpers in Hengst's eye. I didn't sprain my ankle.

Was it up there with Uma Thurman in the Kill Bill saga (9.4)? Probably not. But Long said it was the funniest thing he'd seen all month.