Mircea Colceag is 27 years old and he is from Romania. Currently lives and works in UK. Nothing fancy to be said. Just a
regular guy, with regular weaknesses that stumbled into vicious vices and now trying to get the best outcome out of them by sharing his story.
In the context of writing this book if somebody would ask him what recommends him to write this book, he would say absolutely nothing. He quit twice from college, first because of lack of money and second because he's been asked to pay bribe to pass exams before even taking them.
Always people had the care to tell him that he cannot achieve anything, proved them wrong a lot of times but always been the underdog. And not just the underdog but the dog that you look at and you think "Man... we cannot let him even compete."
But definitely the best person to write this book. Because it is
personal for him, because his target audience is the regular guy who made some bad choices and is climbing his way out of it. Just like he did.
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The dream? In every spin. The odds? Not a chance
They've immortalized it in pictures, movies, they've singed songs about it and it fascinates everybody. However, stupidity has been around forever and it will be around forever.
Share Tweet LinkedIn Embed pszr.co/Zljyo 626 views| Personal Growth & Self-Improvement Gambling | |
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They say that intelligent people learn from their mistakes but the most intelligent people learn from other people mistakes too if not especially from those. Well how is anybody going to take advantage of other people experiences if nobody talks about them?
Mircea wishes that he could of been the example to follow. It is certain not the case here, but most definitely he is the perfect specimen of what not to do. Therefore, his story is valuable.
This is a book about gambling. And is certainly not the first one. But having billions (yes, with a"B") of gamblers around the world and with the power of technology being able today to put thousand of online casinos literally in your hand on your smartphone, even though the number of players may flat out, the accumulated losses are skyrocketing.
It leads to tragedies every day and yet, nobody talks about it. And if some do, certainly is not enough and it is imperative to do better.
Why is this book different?
Because it is not a Hollywood story . Mircea did not lose millions and that is for a single reason: He did not have that kind of money. And neither does 95% of the gamblers around the world. So this is a relatable experience for everybody.
But not only that, this book is specifically about online gambling, about slots and it WILL touch not so sexy subjects such as payday loans, depression, suicide thoughts, meetings with creditors and maybe solutions. The author does NOT make any false promises, he can only tell you how he stopped and what resources are there to help you. What is for sure is that the reader will not be asked to write statements on a piece of paper like other authors do.
The story is simple:
From a 10 years old kid in East Europe to the guy that could of lost his life purely because of his mistakes.
The plan is to provide you background and walk you trough the events that lead to the decision to gamble and how I fought the addiction once it became one.
It may change in the process of writing this book but the structure is as it follows:
Chapter 1: Just a regular kid
In this chapter you will get to know the main character and some parts of his childhood in Romania, East Europe.
Chapter 2: Dreams are for others
From getting into high school and probably to this day, Mircea has been always told that he simply cannot do meaningful with his life. This chapter presents to the audience the struggle to achieve some success.
Chapter 3: Oh, sweet vices, always there for you
We are always the sum of them, aren't we? From smoking to drinking, luckily saying no to drugs and then to...
Chapter 4: The worst curse: I won
...the beginning of gambling and how he got hooked into it.
Chapter 5: Oh, boy, oh boy! There are consequences
Needless to say that soon things went south and from there it wasn't far until he started to think about suicide. It probably helped the fact that he could not leave his family with the debts caused by a funeral.
Chapter 6: Gambling what you can't afford to lose
Maybe the drama could of been avoided if he didn't took payday loans to sustain his addiction. What do you know? It is unsustainable. Shocker, right?
Chapter 7: Advertising gambling on YouTube
People are gambling on video platforms asking for donations to continue to gamble and getting people to create accounts on all the casinos available by offering incentives. The audience is mainly teenagers easy to be influenced. Do you see anything wrong with that? That is why we just need to do better.
Chapter 8: Rationalization and solutions
You do not have to be a genius in math to understand that the house will always win. But to have the power to accept that and quit while you still can it is a battle with yourself. Who would you bet that will win when either way you lose?
Chapter 9: Tomorrow is really there
The show must go on.
The target audience is anybody that had or has a gambling problem. That is the main core. But the problems and the emotions derived from this vice are similar with the struggle that any addict has. And it could make the loved ones of this people to understand how to recognize and addict and how to deal with it.
The U.K. Gambling Commission reported that 1 in 7 children ages 11 to 16 (U.S. = 2.2 million kids) gamble regularly, which is more than those who have smoked, taken drugs or consumed alcohol — reflected in a 400-percent increase over 2 years in the numbers of kids becoming addicted and problem gamblers.
Gambling is the next big epidemic and it cannot be stopped, but we need to get ahead of it.
I would invest in Amazon marketing because I see this book being sold mostly online since one of the main characteristic of an addict gambler is shame and he would like to be able to get the book without other people knowing about it.
Also, I would invest in Facebook Ads to spread the message and I would create an YouTube channel to talk about the downside of gambling and the problems that will shortly follow.
- Tony 10: The astonishing story of the postman who gambled 10.000.000 euro and lost it all
by Declan Lynch & Tony O'Reilly
Published on 23 February 2018
Tony 10 was the online betting username of Tony O’Reilly, the
postman who became front-page news in 2011 after he stole €1.75 million from An Post while he was a branch manager in Gorey. He used the money to fund a gambling addiction that began with a bet of €1 and eventually rose to €10 million, leading to the loss of his job, his family, his home – and winning him a prison sentence.
From the heart-stopping moments in a hotel room in Cyprus with his wedding money riding on the Epsom Derby, to the euphoria of winning half a million over a weekend, to the late goals and the horses falling at the last fence, Tony 10 is the story of an ordinary man’s journey from normality to catastrophe.
This is the number 1 book recommended on Amazon for the search "gambling". It is a good story precisely because of the Wow factor resulted from the astonishing amount of money that was gambled. But while it is a good story it is not relatable to the average person that gambles small amounts of money but repeatedly until it gets out of hand.
Also, it is concentrated on football bets and horse racing and not on online casino and slots, roulette and poker, what I will be concentrating on in my book.
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A short story from my childhood
It was raining. Actually, it was more like pouring; raining would be an understatement. There weren’t a lot of us who decided to play the match then, especially considering the team we were up against. They were in the 8th grade but quite a few of them liked 8th grade so much that they stuck to repeat it for two, maybe three years in a row. This was a common joke among ourselves: it meant that these guys never managed to pass the tests and advance to high school. And a few of them were actually really talented at soccer; too bad they missed the opportunity of an actual football scout who could have provided them with an actual career.
We were in the 5th grade and a lot of us were so skinny, that we would have flown far away like Dorothy, if the wind decided to be furious that day. But I thought that we had to be there. All the great players in the history of football would show up no matter what. It could snow, it could rain, a volcano could erupt at any moment somewhere in the world , but we just had to be there and play the match and not disappoint the fans. And it was a championship after all, we just had to be there to play.
But there were no fans. And the pitch was muddy as fuck. And it was a leaning field and it had some rocks. And it was raining hard. Did I mention that? And we played. Just a game that lasted for half of an hour, 5th graders versus 8th graders. The result? 8-0. For the other team, obviously. I remember very clearly that back then I was trying really hard to explore anything I knew about football and wonder if I ever heard about a soccer game, in any division, that finished 8-0. I couldn’t bring up anything but I still wouldn't let go. These other guys were so huge and bulky and they had so many talented players and we managed to limit the score at only 8 goals! What an achievement! Maybe some of us could really have a career in soccer.
Then I went to the French class. I was quite good at French. Especially at grammar. It just made sense. Maybe because my native language, Romanian, had French influences. And I was quite good at writing and reading, but to this day I cannot have a conversation in French. Nonetheless, we Romanians have a saying: If you can speak enough of a language not to starve to death in that country, you are good enough. And good enough I was.
I was quite fond of the French teacher also. She was a short woman with short hair with a gentle personality and a lot of charisma. Back then, I had no clue what charisma was, but as you can see, I've learned a lot of new words in the meantime.
When the French teacher entered the classroom, she shouted my name and called me out to the front.
- Mircea, You have to go to the principal's office right now!
- B… But why? I was scared because I was never causing any trouble and I hardly knew who the principal was. I knew that he had a goatee that he was very fond of, everybody referred to him as “Mr. Goatee” and he was always sporting a formal suit. But that was pretty much it.
- You just have to go! Now! I don’t know what it is about.
I was wearing sportswear, and my trousers were ridiculously large. And I wore the same thing almost every day to school, because my family was struggling hard to make ends meet. But on this particular occasion, my pants were more than baggy and hilarious. They were also terribly muddy. I was also wearing an old and worn-out T-shirt with a fading print. I felt deeply embarrassed to visit the principal's office dressed that way. So I put on my brown - also muddy - sweater. Dirty as it was, it just felt like a better choice in that moment.
I was keeping my head down in shame. I was walking really slow, while the rain was smashing hard the old windows of the school. I do recall that there weren’t any thunders and lightnings that day, it was just pouring, but calmly. Yet, at the same time, I could swear, if someone asked me to, that I heard thunders struck and saw lightning bolt or perhaps the other way around, as I was heading to the principal's office. My classroom was at the second floor of the school, which was also the highest level of the building, - not to mention that my school was the tallest building in my village. The principal’s office was at the ground floor, in the opposite direction of where I was. The walk could hardly have required more than 40 seconds, on a regular situation. Yet it took me hours. I do believe that I got my first gray hair on that day.
I was restless and young and had no such experience before. I kept wondering what I did wrong. Maybe it was that one time when accidentally I scratched the wall on the hall. Perhaps it was. Somebody must have witnessed it and reported me. They are going to give me a warning. Or maybe they will rate my behavior poorly. Romanian school rated your behavior and you could even be forced to attend the same grade again if your mark was low. Oh, my GOD! I would carry a stigma until I finished school. Or would I even be able to finish school? And what was I going to tell my mother? I was screwed for life right there. By the time I’ve got to the principal's office I was soaking wet; not because of the rain, but because of the pouring sweat. I sweat so much when I’m nervous. I just learned that about myself right then and there.
I’ve knocked on the door. Pause. I skipped a few heartbeats, when, suddenly, a kind voice told me to come in.
- Mircea, do you know why I’ve called you here?
I could hardly speak at this point, so I moved my head left and right to signal a no.
- There is a program sponsored by the government which grants one kid per school, based on their school results, a 200-euro voucher destined for the purchase of a new computer. And you have outstanding results so far. Thus, we decided to give that voucher to you. Certainly, we cannot hand out the voucher to you, you will have to tell your mother to come tomorrow at school to collect it. Congratulations!
He tried to shake my hand, but I was trembling profusely and couldn't found the inner power to answer. He understood and smiled.
- That would be all. You can go back to your French class.
And off I went. It must have taken me half of a second to leave the office. I wasn't able to realize what those words meant right then. While on my way to the class, I was trying to put them together and gather their actual meaning.
Government, 200 euros, computer, me. Wait…That can’t be right. Me? Computer, me. Me, computer, 200 euros. And I have to tell my mother to come at school to collect it. The computer or the money? But he said voucher. What on earth is a voucher? And will I have a computer? Me? My own computer? That can’t be happening. Before that, I only saw a computer in the home of a rich neighbor. That kid was younger than me, yet he had so much more money, and it always stroke me as unfair back then. He had a lot of toys and I hated playing with toys because I was only dreaming about playing Fifa 2000 and Need For Speed II. Those were the days… But now I could play anything at any time if I really, truly, genuinely was going to have my own computer.
My mother did come the next day and she did collect the voucher and she was so proud and happy. She kissed me and said I was worth her hard life as a single mother dumped by a dad who never paid child support, as she was too proud to sue him.
Then, the saga started. A computer, back then, was worth around 500 euros and my mother had a salary of 100 euros per month, give or take. In order to pay the difference of 300 euros, she had to apply for a loan which took weeks to get an approval and after that, we needed to go in Ploiesti to actually purchase the computer. Ploiesti was the biggest city nearby and was roughly 30 kilometers away from Ceptura, my village. And in order to bring the computer home, we needed to borrow someone's car, because we didn't own one, and the computer was so big and heavy.
So we had to ask a car owner to join us on this journey. This guy expected to be paid by computer owners like ourselves. So we borrowed some more money to pay him, too, and, after all that time and hustle, my new, long awaited first computer was in my room.
Instead of a happy end, it was the beginning of another struggle.
How does one connect all that stuff and all those wires? And after we found somebody else who managed to ensemble it all together, how does one start it?
We searched for the power button for half of an hour. Then we noticed some chrome ornaments on the front of the unit. It took us a while to realize that some of these worked as buttons, too. And one of then turned the magic on.
When it actually showed “ Loading Windows” it was the happiest day in my life so far. Also, it was something else. The first time when I got something that I didn’t really worked for.
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