“It all comes down to a coin flip really.”

People bustle around, hundreds of entities, all enjoying themselves in the build up to the holidays. Entities with hopes, dreams, fears and nightmares. Hoping they’ll have a very merry Christmas. Dreaming of winning a fortune at my tables to give their families the Christmas they always deserved. Fears that the uncle no one really likes will get drunk on wine, egg nog and brandy and start shouting, crying and/or stripping. All having the recurring nightmare they won’t be able to stop and they’ll lose it all, cancelling Christmas.

“Heads or Tails, win or lose, always fifty-fifty. Not like cards wear you can stack the deck, read the game, in a coin toss, only Fortune can influence the outcome. And as I and so many others have said over and over again, until I’m sure even She’s sick of hearing it: ‘Fortune is a fickle mistress’.”

I look down and remember what it was like to be a faceless gambler. Trying to take on the house, looking for that one hand that would get me ahead, then trying to stay there. I remember the thrill, the electricity, what it was like to have no-one know who you were and look at you in awe as you performed gambling acrobatics. I stunned audiences, bested opponents and won gold long before I ever came to the WWA. But now I am the house, and I’m engaged in hundreds of little battles against people who are trying to be just like I used to be.

Secretly, I think I want them to win, I want to find someone as good as I was, better even. I want to find someone who can take the house. Until then it’s my job to make sure that no-one beats me if they don’t deserve it. This is much better than being the faceless gambler, now I’m feeling the thrill of every gamble in the casino. Every roll of the dice effects me personally. The flow of electricity turned into a thunderstorm.

“She can give you everything easily, in an instant. But she takes it away even faster. She certainly did with me.”

I stare into the camera for dramatic effect and reflect on how last week she nearly took it all away. A freak occurrence really, suddenly every gambler on the floor is winning. Suddenly the house is losing. Losing to everyone. They nearly cleaned us out, things only calmed down when I headed to the floor, coin in hand, to restore the natural order of chance and happenstance.

“I went from being breakout rookie, to World Title contender, to this. A burn out. A memory of someone who used to be good. So now I watch the new rookies try to make their names and I make sure they’re good enough to make them, make sure they’re as good as I am. If not as good as I was. No-one’s that good. But that was just beginners luck.”

Happy with the obvious comparison between my wrestling and gambling lives (when you view wrestling as a form of gambling, this happens), I take another pause and look down. I make sure the camera captures the shadows across my face, making sure they know what I’m thinking, wondering what went wrong, why my luck ran out.

Because it did, in the casino and the ring, Lady Luck no longer smiled on me. I was unlucky enough to have the house actually lose, even when I hit the floors with the righteous force of Fortune’s Favour behind me I couldn’t stop us making a loss. This casino used to be a symbol of my luck. A larger version of the coin that even now I’m spinning in my hand, making sure it glints off the lights overhead, sending a jab of light into the lens.

“So now I’m fighting Joey Edwards, former loser made good. My exact opposite really. He was a luckless nobody, now he’s making a name for himself. Has Lady Luck decided to smile on someone else? Has she abandoned the life I now lead? Look down at those people gambling in my casino. They might win, they might lose. Undoubtedly a few will win, Fortune will favour them over me. So why do I cling to my mistress? Why continue to follow the path the coin leads?”

I give the coin a flourish and a flick, and flash the grin at the camera. The cocky, crooked grin that says “yeah, I know, you’re just not as good a gambler as me, sucks to be you I guess”. Yeah, that grin. It’s my grin, a suitable grin for when I flip my coin, in my casino, in my thunderstorm of a life. And as the coin twirls through the air I start talking again. Quickly, but steadily, not dwelling on any words, simply stating it as a matter of fact.

“The electricity I used to feel when I flip the coin, when I gamble, when I wrestle has faded. I’m part of the institution now. I’m someone rookies face to prove themselves, someone gamblers face to make some quick money, someone who Fortune has decided will lose. The electricity faded, now the thunderbolts are falling.”

I pluck the coin out of the air nonchalantly as it falls. Cool as you like, and I know it. Flipping the coin felt good. Watching my casino, whether I’m winning or losing, feels good. Wrestling always feels good. The opponent doesn’t matter, all that matters is the gamble.

“But the thunderbolts don’t matter to me. I know when Fortune wills it, I’ll win again. I just have to follow the coin and be the stormbringer among the thunder. Joey Edwards doesn’t matter, it’s the flip that matters, the flip that will bring my Extreme Title back to me, or snatch it away again.”

And that’s the truth, I think as I fade the camera out to black. I know that if I stop worrying about the thunderbolts, and dance around them, then Fortune will favour me again. I just have to watch the coin carefully, and if it’s coming down heads instead of tails, get Lady Luck to give it a little push.