It could be an ability to spot weaknesses in trading algorithms used by the big banks, Murakami says. Or maybe it is the simple fact that he does not get rattled, says Masahiro Kawata, a trader who plays mah-jongg with CIS.
That is more profound than it sounds, according to Hersh Shefrin, a professor of behavioral finance at Santa Clara University in California and author of “Beyond Greed and Fear,” a 2007 book about the role of psychology in investing. The human mind is hard-wired to bet on reversals, Shefrin says.
Instead, he keeps his ears open in chat rooms and his eyes glued to bid-ask screens, on which he monitors the market’s appetite for its 300 most heavily traded stocks. If there is one basic principle, he says — repeatedly and slowly, as if instructing a child — it is this: “Buy stocks that are being bought, and sell stocks that are being sold.”
He found success after a friend gave him a piece of advice: Forget the fundamentals. CIS does not subscribe to the Nikkei or any other newspaper. Nor does he scrutinize earnings reports or parse central bank statements or spend much time looking at moving averages or other price chart patterns normally associated with technical trading.
That is how he now plays the stock market. CIS says he bets wrong four out of 10 times. The trick is to sell the losers fast while letting the winners ride. For him, a well-played stop-loss is just about the most beautiful trade there is.
“I was a pretty confident player, but just like in the real world, the more opponents you have, the worse your chances are,” he says. “You lose nothing by running.”
Wicked keyboard skills were a must. He memorized more than 100 keystroke shortcuts — control-A to guzzle a healing potion or shift-S to draw a sword, for example — and he could dance between them without taking his eyes off the screen.