Antonio Miranda, a construction worker with unshakable hope, walked into the Casino Club in Río Gallegos one July afternoon in 2022 with barely $6.000 in his pocket. He wasn’t planning to change his life—just to unwind for a bit. Yet fate had something straight out of a movie in store for him.
Within minutes, his usual slot machine exploded with lights, sounds, and a number that nearly knocked his hard hat off: $100.000.000. The crowd clapped, Antonio trembled, and the casino staff… well, they didn’t seem nearly as thrilled. His stroke of luck lasted shorter than a cup of coffee.
From Euphoria to a Cold Shower
As Antonio dreamed of buying a house, a car, and maybe hosting half the neighborhood for a barbecue, the floor manager appeared. Wearing an expression sterner than a tax audit, she announced that the machine had a “technical malfunction.” In seconds, the jackpot vanished like cigarette smoke.
They handed him back only $6.500—the amount he had played—and told him the machine “wasn’t programmed to pay that sum.” And the 100 million? “A mistake,” they said. To Antonio, though, it felt less like an error and more like a punch disguised as good luck.
The Mason Who Took on the Giants
Far from giving up, Antonio gathered evidence as carefully as laying bricks: a photo of the winning screen, witness statements from the room, and—according to his lawyer—even records that somehow vanished. The security cameras pointing at that very machine, curiously, showed nothing. “Technical issues,” once again.
The casino insisted the payout was “impossible,” claiming the amount “exceeded system limits.” An explanation that sounded more like a magician’s trick than standard procedure. Meanwhile, Antonio kept waiting for justice… and clinging to that ghostly $100.000.000 ticket.
A Laughable Offer
When the story hit the news, the casino offered a “compensation” of $200.000—not even 1% of what the screen had displayed. Antonio turned it down with dignity and a hint of anger. “That wouldn’t even buy the bricks for the house I was going to build,” he said with a resigned laugh.
But luck turned its back on him once more. A workplace accident, job loss, and his mother’s illness eventually forced him to accept an out-of-court settlement in 2024. The amount was confidential, paid in installments, and wrapped in a legal silence heavier than the millions he never saw.
A Prize That Never Was
With what he received, Antonio bought a small plot in his hometown. No mansions, no Caribbean vacations. He’s still working as a mason, his hands rough and his story making people either laugh or tear up. “He won the most expensive prize in the world: experience,” his friends like to joke.
The casino never publicly admitted fault. The case sank into a limbo of clauses and signatures. Yet the echo of that story still lingers around every slot machine: What happens if you win too much? And what if luck, plain and simple, is forbidden?
Lessons from an Invisible Fortune
The Miranda case left behind more than gossip. It exposed technical flaws, a lack of transparency, and the blurry boundaries of electronic gambling. Lawyers summed it up this way: if the machine pays, it should pay; if it can’t, why let players believe they can win at all?
Meanwhile, Antonio keeps working, trowel in hand and a tired smile on his face. “Maybe one day luck will show up again—but this time with a signed ticket,” he says. Because in this country, sometimes you win by losing… and lose by winning.
