Casinos, Magpies and shiny things…
They say the only way you can guarantee you’ll leave Las Vegas with a small fortune is to take a large fortune with you when you go.
Of course, it always helps to have a large fortune in the first instance. Betting big is a nerve-shredding experience for the average bloke dipping into his savings to fund a trip to Sin City. But if a high roller lands the wrong card, he can just shrug his shoulders and try again next time. He’ll still be able to eat tomorrow.
Big spenders really tend to stand out in the fifth tier of UK football. The Crawleys, the Fleetwoods, the Salfords. They all wagered the kind of bets that would cause a Bond villain to spit their cocktails over the poker table.
Wrexham spent fifteen years watching these high stakes players longingly from a distance. But one day, we turned up at the Bellagio with a Hollywood star on each arm and a briefcase fit to burst with bank notes, and a constellation of envious, curious eyes have been twinkling at us in the dark ever since - watching whether our bet to land Number One will come in, or fail spectacularly.
That roulette wheel has spent a long time spinning. And now, after some last-gasp extra spending, it’s finally slowing down and ticking to a stop.
If the waiting and wondering wasn’t stressful enough, we’ve also got Notts County’s Luke Williams standing so close to us that we can smell the Bramley Apple on his breath, shaking his head and tutting “it’s over, it’s over, Wrexham have won…”. The croupier hasn’t even bellowed “no more bets” yet, but The Magpies’ manager has been confidently declaring the outcome long before the dolly has come slamming down.
Luke doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying, of course, but he may be hoping that prematurely announcing Wrexham as winners may tempt fate to swing the other way.
He might as well try everything, because our luck seems in at the moment. Crowds are colossal. Tickets are like hen’s teeth. Our Women’s team are champions. We even triumphed at Bromley this month - a place where things typically go wrong - and when our Superman shot-stopper Rob Lainton inevitably succumbed to his kryptonite of The Plastic Pitch, ex-England international Ben Foster inexplicably abandoned his pension pot to cover for us.
Poor Luke Williams. He must be so irritated to be in our company. And we know how he feels.
Around this time last year, a 0-0 draw at Hayes Lane left us nine points adrift of the sole promotion spot at the summit of the National League, as an expensive squad assembled by a Chesterite won their own fixture. Stockport County had the audacity to be better than us in our first full Hollywood year and it felt rotten: Like we’d won a ticket to a paradise and a bouncer told us we weren’t allowed in because we were wearing the wrong shoes.
Still, the old idiom “be careful what you wish for” rings true. We prayed for a season where Stockport wouldn’t be around. Now, we’d quite like to have them back. As much as Luke laments us, we’re equally irked to see him here, too. The Hatters were mighty good alright, but Notts County are on another level altogether. They’re going to beat Stockport’s title-winning points total with games to spare - probably ending up with more than 100.
The media are saying we should be privileged to be privy to this title race. But for Wrexham and Notts fans, every phone notification about the other’s results feels like being cattle prodded. It’s infuriating.
Perhaps it should come as no surprise to see The Magpies hovering over us at the VIP table given their appetite for shiny things, but this incessant lurking means that we can’t afford to celebrate early even in a season where we’re due to get our greatest ever points tally. Not for a second. At any moment, our rivals could swoop in to pinch our pot, leaving us standing in our party outfits, bowties askew, mirroring a crestfallen casino visitor who came to Vegas for a stag do and just lost his house on Blackjack.
As underdogs, Notts feel like they deserve it. Many of their fans have spent the second half of the season honking that Wrexham’s star striker has been diving like the birds on their crest, with cheeky Liverpudlian Mullin having his hair ruffled by referees when he should being sent to bed without a bowl of Scouse. Unless Barnet’s Nicke Kambamba turns into Erling Haaland overnight, Mullin is the only man in with a real chance of catching County’s leading marksman Macaulay Langstaff - so it’s understandable why The ‘Pies ain't too keen on our feisty forward. But the main gripe they seem to have with him is that he’s effectively defrauding their side out of a promotion spot.
Pele has become the lightning bearer for a growing critique of Wrexham’s status as the abhorrent cheats of the National League (or the 1970s Oakland Raiders of UK football, for the benefit of our transatlantic fans). And if he can be persecuted for Southend’s goalkeeper dropping the ball into his own net, he can get blamed for anything. We’ll be hearing he’s responsible for 5G poisonings next.
As per usual, Pele took the abuse following Southend like water off a shrimp’s back and did his talking on the pitch - bagging two more in the victory over Bromley. He’s got bigger issues than Twitter pile-ons to think about anyway, being scheduled for surgery in the summer and all, so it was a relief to watch Sam Dalby remind us that he can deputise with his superb sub appearance in the 3-0 win over York on Saturday. If the worst were to happen and the boo-boys get their wish with Pele ruled out, we do have options. Billy Waters is also waiting in the wings to help out on that front, too.
But what will be, will be. The chips are down now and we can only cross our fingers. Luke is still there, ringing a bell and wearing a sandwich board that reads The End is Nigh despite the fact his team can go top again on Tuesday. Back at home on Planet Earth, there are still plenty of twists to come.
We’ve turned up in Las Vegas with a big pot to give ourselves every chance this time. We’re the envy of the room. Let’s hope it stays that way when we walk out.
Excellent read as usual…thank you.