The Investing Game
It was 3 a.m. and I was logging into Robinhood, unable to sleep as I obsessed over my Oatly shares. Four days ago, I didn’t even know Oatly was a publicly-traded company. Robin Hood was just a man in tights, and I slept blissfully every night. But now I’m sucked in, waking up at the opening bell to check my earnings, tinkering with the stocks widget on my phone like it’s Candy Crush. I joined r/wallstreetbets, the subreddit stocks forum for degenerates, which now included me.
I’m playing The Investing Game.
This all started innocuously enough. Megan and I were talking about where we wanted to go to dinner later the following week. She wanted Italian, I wanted Thai – I always want Thai. We started to talk about a fun way to make a game of it. Rock, Paper, Scissors is too trite, and who the hell has the time for Catan? No, I had something better. I’d been mulling over a game I wanted to try out, and after a brainstorm, we hammered out the details. The rules were as follows:
Each person puts $50 into a Robinhood account.
We can invest in any way we want – crypto, penny stocks, blue chips, etc.
The game lasts two months.
Whoever makes more money gets to take both investments, pick a place for date night, and we ball out.
Valentine’s Day was around the corner so we upped the ante: winner’s choice of restaurant.
Knowing nothing about the stock market, I needed an excuse to learn. What better way than a friendly competition? Plus, anything we put in would be withdrawn and spent on a meal, so there’s not much to lose. Try this game out with your partner, your book club, your sewing circle, or your fantasy football league. Here are our journals.
Chasen’s Journal:
I’m lying stoned in bed when I make my first ever stock purchase. “Is this going to be the new me?” I ponder.
Until now, my ignorance had insulated me. But see, I’ve adopted a foolproof strategy, and it’s called Let’s Ride. I thought I’d be investing in heavy players like NVIDIA or Disney, but 50 basis points a day on a $50 investment ain’t gonna take Megan and me to Peter Luger. After a quick peruse on Robinhood’s penny stock section and a lot of warnings from my boss not to make the move, I sink all my money into Oatly.
I’m riding the train to work and my hands are shaking. One culprit is the cold brew I slugged before I walked out the door. Another is the ab workout I decided to do for the first time in three months. But mostly, it’s Oatly.
I’m bathed in regret. I’ve lost $16 in a day, a whole 32%. I’m ruined. Meanwhile, Megan’s bragging about some mystery stock that’s blowing loads.
Now, my cold sweat is thanks to Oatly plunging to a 52-week low, a day after I bought 50 shares. Who buys 50 shares of an oat milk company after reading a candlestick chart he doesn’t understand? A moron, that’s who! This is gambling, just abject gambling. How is this legal?
I’ve only lost $16, but that $16 was an order of candied yams or a gin fizz. And now thanks to the dribbling butthunks in charge of Oatly, I’m short an appetizer.
SELL CONFIRMED: Oatly, (OTLY), $34.66
Something predictable, a rate of return I can count on, that’s the ticket.
But what if there is a company with my name on it? At home that night, a quick search and half a j-bone leads me to Chanson Intl. Close enough. Bet.
BUY CONFIRMED: Chanson International Holding, (CHSN), $34.66
Hold on, have I learned nothing? I don’t even know what Chanson Holding is, let alone if it’s a worthy investment. Does the government really let folks throw their money away like this? I can’t stomach it. I turn my phone off and pass out.
The next morning I open Robinhood on the train. A bright green hockey-stick graph greets my eyes. Chanson Holdings up $11 today -- an acquisition went public? No, a competitor’s CEO was nabbed for embezzlement. I’m back, baby! I must have The Touch after all. Better get out now, cash out while my hand is hot.
SELL CONFIRMED: Chanson International Holding, (CHSN), $45.18
With the first month of the game already ending, I need to take it to the next level. I’ve honed some tactics for Let’s Ride. At the beginning of every week, /r/wallstreetbets posts a schedule of company earnings calls. My plan is to scour the list for stable, recognizable companies (no oil barons or oat milks). Then I’ll open up Robinhood and let it fly.
This week: Lowe’s – ass; Dick’s – ass; Jack in the Box – unfortunately, like their egg rolls, ass. Now Abercrombie & Fitch? Hubba hubba. ANF has gone up 20% in the last week and 70% in the last month. Look at the gazoongas on those trendlines. I still think the market is stupid, but it takes two to tango and my dance card is open.
And that, friends, is how we Ride, a $45 gamble on ANF with a dream and a prayer that their market earnings call will shoot my portfolio into the lead after three weeks of getting my ass kicked by Megan.
BUY CONFIRMED: Abercrombie & Fitch, (ANF), $45.18
So, Abercrombie & Fitch. A rocketship, right? Turns out I’d bought the peak just before the seasonal slump I should have seen coming. As time dwindles and desperation grows, I go crawling back to my exes Oatly and Chanson. It’s painful to think that if I’d just trusted my little darlings from the get-go, I’d probably be well over $100 by now. Instead I played chicken-shit, buying where it made no sense and selling as soon as it dipped.
My total? $25.66. But what did I learn? That the stock market is just like Vegas – without a plan, you’ll leave broke, ashamed, and smelling like cigarettes. No wonder people go to school for this. Average Joes just don’t stand a chance these days. Wall Street’s got us by the balls, and we’re just pawns in their game.
Ultimately, the goal of the game was to learn about the stock market. And while I’m convinced that trading options might never make sense to me, I know a whole lot more about stocks in general than I did a few months ago. My only real regret is that I brought Megan down with me. I just wanted to make a little scratch and spend it on someone I love. I guess we’ll get hot dogs.
Megan’s Journal
Bitcoin.
SELL CONFIRMED: $101.38