From Chicken Arena to Digital Poetry: How I Turned Betting into a Ritual of Samba and Code

I never set out to write about cockfighting. But when I sat at my desk in London after an all-night session—coffee cold, rain outside—I realized something deeper. The arena wasn’t just noise and stakes; it was a drumbeat. A rhythm.

I grew up in an English middle-class home with no gods, only questions. My degree from Imperial College taught me that systems are stories—and games are their most honest form. So I began coding the fight: R$50 per round, 20-minute sessions, zero adrenaline but high curiosity.

The ‘golden rooster’? It’s not a mascot. It’s the moment you click ‘bet’. That’s when the samba begins—not in Rio’s streets, but in your mind. Each decision is a line of code. Each loss? A comment left by another player.

I stopped chasing jackpots. Instead, I started collecting screenshots—not as proof of skill—but as artifacts of presence. In VR spaces where players move like dancers under neon lights, the real win isn’t the prize—it’s the silence after the final bet.

This is not gambling. This is ritual.

Join me at Golden Rooster Community: share your screenshot when you stop trying to win… and start dancing instead.