From an emotive point of view we can define Gambling as an unstable compound based on Escape, Competition and Betting. In our experience, these ingredients can appear both separately and in combination in different proportions, but they remain the fundamental elements of every type of game. Escape is that phenomenon which involves a pause from the real and the rational, in this way allowing evaluations to be made on a conventional level, that of the “rules of the game”. This abstraction is in itself a source of relaxation, but its emotive depth and the addiction it induces may lead to the brink of the pathological. Whenever the “vice of gambling” is mentioned, people always think of the game of chance alone. The desire to hurry to dismiss it on an easier level, the immediately practical level, thus prevents gambling being condemned to a wider and more rigid extent. People tend in fact to forget about video games, role games and even card games which do not involve betting, games that for some people in some periods can become so important that they might even lead to alienation. Nothing serious: things almost always put themselves right in the end. In any case, the investigation that encourages many to condemn is put forward by us for the sole purpose of understanding. When these facile sentences are passed, we as Knights find ourselves among the public and perhaps among the defendants, but never among the judges and the executioners. Competition is the ritual and bloodless transposition of the activity of war, as well as the fight for supremacy between the members of a group. It is therefore a simulation of war, of alliance, of heroism and of other moves and situations that would lead to extreme consequences if they took place in reality and which are therefore better limited or avoided. Betting is the ritualisation of the Risk. Throughout history, Man has always and everywhere dreamt up the oddest ways to risk his neck. As a proof of courage in Indonesia, men used to jump into space with only one foot attached to a liana. No sooner had it been demonstrated they were savages than the whole world imitated them. Fear is so important in the psychological economy of our fellow human beings that it is always worth banking on. Think of the cinema and the Fun Fair for example, where most of the attractions are based on Man's desire (or need?) to face Fear. And Fear is the certain reward of Risk. Uncertain rewards may follow, but to gain them you have to be one of the winners. Nick the Greek, the legendary chemin de fer player, used to say that after playing and winning, the next best thing was playing and losing. De Cubertin, who possessed neither the gambling vice nor a similar eloquence, said almost the same thing in his famous motto “the important thing is to take part”. The expression has remained in use even among gamblers, though the first is much more appropriate for them. Neither expression is banal, containing as it does the knowledge that gaming, either the Olympic or the table variety, is a reward in itself. Winning is good; playing is life. We Guardians are in favour of all gaming activities, though the focus of our interest is the Game of Chance. This has been the subject of constant crusades, particularly in Italy, and it is not yet forbidden to discuss it for the sole reason that anyone who does so ultimately talks ill of it. It is worth noting that in literature, in films, on television, in any situation where a gambler is portrayed, he is always, whatever happens, described as a desperate character (Casablanca); a braggart (Indecent Proposal, Rat race); a trickster (The Sting); a worm (the Italian film Regalo di Natale); a depraved person (The Gambler by F. Dostojevskij); an idiot (various films by C. Vanzina); or a criminal (many examples). He always appears in the guise, whether dark or sad, of the outsider, the loser, the ambiguous and negative character whose destiny has been cast. In this monotonous chorus, only Ian Fleming has been able to show gambling as it really is, with its unpleasant situations and characters and with the innate pleasure familiar to those who know and love it. The book Moonraker, which inspired the film of the same name, with its description of the Blades club and the sensations flooding through Bond's mind and body as he hears the sounds of the gaming room, is a unique example in literature. Cinema has managed to respect this style: the first scene where James Bond appears on the big screen is filmed in a gambling house, with our man lighting a cigarette and holding a fortunate bank of chemin de fer against the latest beauty (Doctor No, or 007 Licence to Kill). Still today the gesture with which he pulls out and deals the cards is a moving example of class and composure. Since he failed to receive the Academy Awards Oscar, let our small and persecuted tribe of satisfied gamblers assign him one in our hearts. Gambling is the training ground of great human qualities, a place to show the best of oneself, a fascinating display in which we are sometimes spectators and other times actors. It is the triumph of the individual and individualism, an area of free decisions in which to enjoy the subtle pleasure of having immediate contact with the consequences of our actions. Whatever the technique, the intervention of fate is almost a taste of divine power and as such, if favourable, it excites us more than any other success. We have to know how to savour these strong sensations in the right place, time and company, dominating them with the most effective antidote: common sense. Doing without them is not a sign of wisdom - indeed the just and the wise do not consider themselves to be beyond passion for this reason.