Becoming a winner

My brother was born upside down.
Because of a gynaecologist who mistook ankles for shoulders my brother lost a lot of what he could’ve had.
So did I.
My prick of an uncle loved this.
Me, the poor cousin.
Though richer is any way you might imagine than him and his vague wife and their fat, precocious daughters.
My father bets a lot on the horses and mostly loses.
I lost something every time my uncle said things like ‘it’s near the T.A.B, you know, where you spent your childhood' and I said nothing, just let him grin like a satisfied shark.
What could I say when I can still quote my father’s T.A.B number by heart?
My granddad’s got Alzheimer’s so my uncle and his bitch of a wife have moved in to care for him.
And to shaft my brother and me out of our share of the property.
My father, always the losing gambler, will probably sell us out.
But this time they'll all get a surprise.
And a fight.
For all the losers, I say:
‘I’m never losing again.’