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CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Tony Zingale thought he'd hit the jackpot in April 2012, when he landed a job as a card dealer at the Horseshoe Cleveland Casino.

But just six months later Zingale lost it all -- over a $1.84 can of Red Bull, a popular energy drink.

Today, the 52-year-old father of four is trying to get back behind a card table. He hopes some public attention will turn his luck. I hope the story he shared with me offers more insight into the relatively young and secretive gaming industry in Ohio.

Zingale had been looking for a new career while staying home to care for young triplet sons. His wife, who works as a manager at a hospital, had doubts about his prospects. When he learned the Horseshoe Cleveland was hiring, Zingale assured her that he was on the right path.

Like all casinos, the Horseshoe Cleveland looks for people with charm and the ability to be on stage for eight hours while keeping close watch of cards. Zingale, a former sales rep with a sturdy build and spikey graying hair, fits that description. He'd previously exploited his personality and Italian looks to become an extra in movies shot in Cleveland, including "Draft Day" with Kevin Costner and "Jenny's Wedding," staring Katherine Heigl.

To earn his shot at reinvention, Zingale passed an extensive background check, trained for months and impressed a panel of casino managers. He quickly earned good reviews from his bosses and decent money, between $12 and $21 an hour, including tips.

He enjoyed putting on a casino uniform and entertaining people.

"I just wanted to deal cards," said Zingale, who has nine fingers. He lost one finger in a wood-splitting accident years ago.

His troubles began the evening of Oct. 10, 2012. Zingale, while working a high-stakes table, took his allotted 20-minute break and headed to an employee lounge. There, he grabbed a Red Bull from a cooler and walked to a self-serve kiosk to pay. He swiped his identification card and punched several squares on a computer screen to pull money from his employee account, he said. He then sat down and finished his drink before returning to the gaming floor.

The next night, he was back at work dealing three-card poker, a game in which players compete with each other using their three cards with the dealer's two cards. The dealer has to keep track of the bets and multiple hands. A truck driver at the Zingale's table was on a winning streak and just played a royal flush worth $10,000. Around 1 a.m., a supervisor called Zingale to the casino office.

On his way there, Zingale began to worry that perhaps he had incorrectly dealt the cards to the truck driver. He had not. His supervisor and a manager asked him about the Red Bull he consumed the night before. They told Zingale that surveillance video shows he voided his transaction before leaving the kiosk. In other words, he didn't pay.

Zingale told his bosses that he believed he had paid for the drink. He said if he had voided the payment, he did so unintentionally and he offered to give his bosses the $1.84. They didn't want it. Zingale signed an incident report saying he was rushing to get back to the floor and didn't pay for the drink. His bosses then suspended him.

A few days later, when Zingale returned to work, the casino fired him - a decision backed by a review panel of fellow employees who reviewed his statement and the video.

His career aspirations were crushed like an empty can.

"I went out in the parking lot and cried my eyes out," he told me in a recent interview.  "And there wasn't much sympathy from my wife."

Within a few days, Zingale gathered himself and applied for a job at the Hollywood Casino Columbus, which he said was immediately interested and invited him to an upcoming employee orientation.

In the meantime, the Horseshoe Cleveland notified the Ohio Casino Control Commission that it had fired Zingale, triggering a formal investigation into the Red Bull incident. The commission is responsible for licensing dealers and keeping track of their employment changes and investigating potential misbehavior. Ohio requires casinos to inform the commission when employees are terminated or suspended.

Halfway through his orientation at Hollywood Casino, Zingale said, he was dismissed. He said a manager told him the casino couldn't waste time with him because the commission intended to revoke his license, a claim that immediately alarmed Zingale. This was the first he had heard anything about losing his license, and he wondered whom the manager had talked to.

The commission soon told Zingale in a letter that it planned to take action against him for not paying for the Red Bull and for failing to tell the commission that he had been fired. The commission said he could request a hearing before an independent examiner paid by the commission. Zingale hired an attorney and scheduled a meeting.

During the hearing, Zingale testified that his bosses at the Horseshoe Cleveland refused to show him the supposedly incriminating video, downplayed the incident and coached him to sign a form saying he was rushed to get back to the floor, according to court documents. 

Zingale also submitted his 90-day review, which showed he received high marks as a dealer. He testified he had no financial trouble or legal troubles since getting the job at the casino and, therefore, he is still worthy of the license. A fellow dealer testified on his behalf. This dealer said he, too, had once failed to pay for food in the lounge. But he said he was not disciplined after a supervisor noticed the mistake.

The hearing officer ruled Zingale demonstrated a "failure of good behavior" and recommended he lose his license. The commission agreed and yanked Zingale's license, saying he failed to establish by "clear and convincing evidence that that he remained suitable for licensure."

Since gaming became legal three years ago, the commission has issued 7,000 licenses to dealers and other key casino employees.

It revoked 31 licenses.

Zingale challenged the decision in Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Court. The commission, which is represented by the Ohio Attorney General Mike DeWine's office, pushed back. It argued in legal papers that Zingale's story changed over time and is not supported by the video or his initial testimony. The video shows that Zingale was not rushing when he consumed the Red Bull, as he claimed in the written statement, according to court records.

"The unauthorized taking and consumption of the Red Bull  - like his behavior on the night in question -- is highly suspect," the commission's legal brief states.

Judge Nancy Fuerst upheld the commission's decision.

But the Eighth District Court of Appeals reversed the decision last November. The appellate court agreed with Zingale's lawyer, John Izzo of Columbus, on a key point: The commission erred by placing the burden on Zingale to prove he is a good guy. The court said the commission needed to prove he is not and the commission failed to do so.

The court also agreed in part with Izzo that the commission had not clearly communicated what exactly license holders are supposed to tell the commission about changes in their employment status. (The court's decision has no effect on the Horseshoe Cleveland's decision to fire Zingale.) 

The commission did not challenge the appeal's court ruling and re-instated Zingale's license in November.

But Zingale isn't celebrating.

Since then, Zingale has applied for jobs as a dealer at other Ohio casinos and for non-dealer jobs at the state's racetracks that offer slot machines. He said the casinos and racinos were initially interested but eventually turned him away.

"I feel like I've been black listed," he said, acknowledging he can't prove such a claim.

Horseshoe Cleveland - whose parent company, Rock Ohio Ventures, also owns the Horseshoe Cincinnati and ThistleDown Racino - declined to talk about its internal procedures. Penn National Gaming Inc, which owns Hollywood Casino Columbus and Hollywood Casino Toledo and racinos in the Youngstown and Dayton areas, declined to talk about Zingale.

At the moment, Zingale is working in the shipping department of marketing and printing company. He also deals cards for a company that runs charity poker games. He said he enjoys it, but the work is not as fulfilling as working in a real casino.

"I miss the people," he said.

His hope, like his luck, is fading.

He has until April 4 to renew his license. Dealers are required to renew their licenses every three years. The process costs hundreds of dollars. Without prospects for a dealer job, Zingale plans to let the license expire.

Zingale is also wrestling with personal changes. He and wife have separated since he lost his job, but he said he continues to help with his sons and his teenage daughter.

"Getting fired from the casino changed my life," he said.