Best Loser Wins: Why Normal Thinking Never Wins the Trading Game
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
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dear markets from the moment I first came across you. I have been fascinated by you. I probably even fell in love with you. I was too young to know 10 meant. No more than 10 years old. You were featured in a national newspaper, A competition of sorts. I was too young to play with you. So I observed. Time was not on my side. I was born a few decades too soon to participate in trading like it is possible today. I had to go and live my early life. And you went about yours When you went through the devastating bear market of 1973, I was just learning to walk When you roared with anger during the crash of 1987. I was just finishing school When you took the first steps towards the epic 1990s bull market. I was almost ready, but not quite there yet. So you sent me a message that would change my life. And I took you up on the invitation, leaving everything behind me to pursue you. I studied you at university, 2°. In fact, I toiled for hours and hours trying to understand you through the eyes of the conventional economic thinkers. Through the eyes of Nobel prize recipients and through the eyes of well meaning journalists and experts. I wish you could have told me back then not to bother. You are not an equation to be solved. You are far more complex than a model could ever capture. Over and over. You prove yourself to be the elusive mistress, that no one ever truly understands. You are everywhere. And you are nowhere. Universal laws do not apply to you. My love for you was deep. You gave me so much joy. I gave you my all. You were there when I woke up and you were there when I went to sleep. You have elevated me when I was fluid, rewarded me beyond my wildest dreams when I was flexible. You have punished me when I was rigid and stubborn, taking all your gifts back with interest. And boy, did I pursue you? I pursued you like a love struck teenager. I approached you from all angles, from fibonacci ratios to Keltner channels, to Bollinger bands, to trident strategies, as well as mythical vibrations of gan and Murray math. I developed models of the tide swell in the Hudson river to see if he responded to that. I printed out thousands and thousands of charts applying lines and circles trying to find a way to dance with you so that my feet didn't get stamped on so much. I had sore toes. My love sometimes my toes were so sore that I had to go to the beach and just throw stones in the water for hours on end. Angry that you didn't want to do the tango with me. You gave me sleepless nights. You gave me tears in my eyes. Anger in my body, hurt in my soul. And yet I couldn't let you go. I knew there was more to it and I knew I had to keep looking. I gave you everything because you made me feel alive. You gave me a purpose. You gave me challenges so hard, even a drill sergeant would have to give you a nod of respect and I will always love you for it. You kept me on my toes, like a parent wanting only the best for their child. But you made the lessons obscure. You designed it to look easy, but it was never easy. You made everyone believe that you could be danced with through models, through equations, through indicators, through conventional thinking and through logic. But often there is little logic to you and I struggle to dance with you for years. Until one day by chance, you told me your secret, you told me to stop trying to understand you. You told me to understand myself. I stopped trading. I took the time to understand myself and I came back and when I returned to the dance floor, you welcomed me with open arms, smiled and said, welcome back. I see you get it now. Did you bring the band aids? And I did. Best loser wins