If anyone had told me roulette could be beaten before I’d heard of Niko Tosa, I would’ve thought they were ready for a stay in a correctional facility.
But thanks to Tosa, we might need to rethink everything; roulette may have a crack in its supposed randomness. Tosa’s intuitive, almost mystical method led him to wins others only dream of—and no one really understands it.
Even if they did, who would dare reveal such a powerful secret?
Plenty of roulette “strategies” existed before Tosa’s, like the D’Alembert, but those are just a casino manager’s best friend—basically useless.
Tosa’s approach was different. His smooth, high-profit success had casino execs, law enforcement, and “prove-a-point” types on their toes and convinced he was using a hidden device to pull it off. Even the maths wizards raised their eyebrows.
Decades later, Tosa’s story is still a hot topic.
Was he using a tiny gadget—or just seizing a rare opportunity?
Keep reading to find out.
Not much is really known about Niko Tosa. Some say this legendary high-stakes gambler, who once terrorized London’s famed Ritz Club, hails from a small village tucked into Croatia’s rugged foothills.
He may come from a modest area, but the word is that his family holds some prominence there.
Naturally, for someone guarding such a valuable secret, lying low is essential—plenty of enemies could be lurking. Makes you wonder if “Niko Tosa” is even his real name.
On March 15, 2004, Niko Tosa’s team arrived at the Ritz for yet another night that blended into two weeks of high-stakes success. Tosa, a laser-focused gambler, had shocked casino staff with his uncanny roulette luck.
Flanked by his Hungarian blonde partner on one side and a Serbian businessman on the other, Tosa’s team took their places at a roulette table in the Carmen Room, homing in on a favored betting area (special wager).
The wheel, a standard European model with 37 pockets, spun as they laid down £1,200-a-dozen chips. They timed their “neighbors” bets perfectly, reacting as the decelerating ball tapped across the wheel. Chips were dropped on up to 15 numbers in swift, birdlike synchrony, resulting in an unbelievable winning streak of eight rounds or more, pulling in 35:1 payouts.
The night’s stakes were colossal, with Tosa and the Serbian starting with £30,000 and £60,000, respectively, reaching six figures by night’s end. As March 16 dawned, Tosa had won an eye-watering £310,000, and his Serbian partner racked up £684,000.
But the excitement was one-sided; Tosa and his team showed zero emotion, win or lose. This made the Ritz’s surveillance team had been monitoring the trio closely, logging every move, even more suspicious. They’d watched for weeks, and tonight, they decided to “get to the root”.
Tosa returned as promised at 10 p.m., expecting another Carmen Room round, but instead, he and his companions were led to a private room, where London police waited. Arrested for “deception”, they remained calm. Tosa was silent, and the Serbian boasted about his skill. The police seized phones and other devices, finding some deleted data but no sign of cheating tools. Payment on the winnings was halted. Tosa and his team were let out on bail that same evening.
Months later, with no proof of cheating and the investigation hampered, questions lingered.
People love to talk, and sometimes what they know isn’t “exactly” the truth.
John Wootten, a security chief at the Ritz, had a grudge from a few years back—when casino execs had laughed at him for warning about the risks of tiny, powerful computers. Now, Wootten had a chance to prove his point. He saw Tosa as a personal challenge, quickly jumping into the investigation.
Wootten called in Mike Barnett, an expert consultant from Australia. Barnett’s tests showed that wheels could develop tiny imperfections over time, which could be a gambler’s goldmine.
Flaws, like a slight tilt, could disrupt a wheel’s “perfect” randomness, giving seasoned players like Tosa a chance to predict outcomes, swinging the odds away from the house.
According to Bloomberg’s Kit Chellel, who tracked down the secretive Tosa in Croatia, Tosa admitted that he’d focused on one specific table at the Ritz, which has since Covid closed permanently. After enough spins, he knew he could beat it—even recognizing it after it was relocated to the Carmen Room.
And then there was the question everyone was asking: Was Tosa using a computer? Physicist Doyne Farmer thought it was possible to predict the ball’s landing spot by sheer focus, even without a computer, if the wheel had a tilt and the rotor wasn’t spinning too fast.
He even likened the intense focus needed to musical talent, suggesting it might activate similar parts of the brain for rhythm and timing.
Mark Billings, author of “Follow the Bouncing Ball: Silicon vs. Roulette” and a longstanding player, compared it to the instincts of an athlete. “At some point, all this stuff just comes together,” he said in an interview, describing how seasoned players simply “look at the wheel” and know.
Tosa just laughed off the computer roulette question, telling Chellel, “If I had that kind of device, you might as well call me Nikola Tesla!”
And yes, Niko Tosa isn’t his real name. Turns out, it’s just another tool in his arsenal of aliases, complete with a stash of fake IDs.
Casinos reacted instantly, like blinking at sand blown in your face. They’ve poured a fortune into tightening security, even hiring experts like Barnett—who understand the hidden tricks—to uncover and fix hidden vulnerabilities. From refining the bowl’s curve to increasing routine maintenance, these updates are a clear response to the fears sparked by Tosa’s success.
To prove that the measures were indeed effective, Tosa, in 2013, eventually had to go as far as Nairobi, Kenya, probably to find a wheel with the rare flaws he relied on. There, he took home 5 million Kenyan shillings (about $57,000). It was the casino’s curious owner who tipped Wootten off about Tosa’s visit.
Tosa’s mysterious style left a lasting impression—stirring admiration and suspicion. While others rely on complex tech, Tosa’s approach remains as elusive as ever, defying replication and adding to his legend.
