In my last article, I gave you a mission: "Be a detective, examine the brands in your life." Do you remember?

Today, I’m going to tell you how I did this detective work when I was just a student with barely enough pocket money scraped together. This story isn't about complex analysis software worth thousands of dollars; it’s the story of a careful pair of eyes and a simple pack of biscuits.

This is the story of my first "Home Run," and at the same time, the first slap I took from the market. If you’re ready, let’s head to the supermarket shelves.

When my investment adventure began, I was confused. Today my portfolio might hold funds, crypto, or gold, but back then I was just trying to understand the world of "stocks." Twitter (X) was full of soaring stocks and complex charts flying through the air. But I didn't know any of them.

I made a decision: I would only partner with businesses I knew.

From the catering company at the university cafeteria to the bus I rode, from the computer I used to the detergent in the market, I started looking at everything as a "potential stock." As the famous investor Peter Lynch said: "Would I want to own this business?"

I eliminated brands I didn't like or found to be of poor quality. Only one thing remained: That biscuit.

One evening on my way home, I stopped by the local chain supermarket as I always did. I noticed that the biscuit brand I had been tracking for months—but couldn't find everywhere—was now filling the shelves. Not just one variety; everything from their orange tarts to their rusks had arrived.

I immediately caught a store employee:

"Excuse me, did these just arrive?"

"Yes," the employee said. "A new deal was made with the firm; these products will now be in all branches."

Lightning struck in my mind. This information wasn't on the news, nor was it on financial websites. I ran home and examined the balance sheets. The company was already cheap. If this chain market deal was as big as I estimated, doubling their profits wouldn't be difficult at all.

I had only $150 in my pocket.

That money might seem small to you, but for the "me" of that day, it meant months of skipped meals out, missed movies, and sacrifices. It was my entire fortune.

At a price of $0.15 per share, I bought 1000 shares with all the money I had. And I began to wait.

The first few days were a nightmare. I was constantly checking the screen, fearing "Am I broke?" when it dropped a dollar, and dreaming of riches when it rose a dollar. This was not sustainable.

I trusted my strategy. I set an alarm for the company's next earnings call date and deleted the stock market app. This was one of the best decisions of my life. I shut out the noise and focused on the data.

When earnings day arrived, I couldn't sit still from excitement. I watched the meeting live. The company spokesperson explained the deal—the one I had seen on the market shelf months ago—as if it were an ordinary daily event.

When the numbers hit the screen, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a profit explosion even bigger than I had expected.

The market loved this news. The stock climbed first to $0.56, then to the $0.83 level.

My poor little $150 had seen $830 at the peak.

That’s a 5.5 times (x5.5) increase! I felt like the world's smartest investor, a stock market prodigy.

And right at that moment, that sweet poison seeped into my veins: Ego and Complacency.

I had found a great stock, bought it at the bottom, and I was right. The problem was: I thought this rise would last forever.

I risked the money I earned by observing the market, by stopping my observation of the market.

A year passed. Those biscuits started to decrease on the market shelves. Stocks weren't being replenished. If I had continued my "detective work," I would have realized the market hadn't renewed the agreement. But with the complacency of "I'm rich anyway, this stock will fly," I was only looking at the profit on the screen.

At the new year's meeting, reality hit like a slap: The deal was over, revenue expectations were lowered. The stock began to crash.

I placed a panic sell order. I managed to sell my shares, which saw a peak of $0.83, at the $0.69 level during the downtrend.

I was lucky. After I sold, the stock retreated to $0.11—even lower than where I bought it.

This story didn't just make me money; it gave me experience that money can't buy. Here are the notes I kept in my pocket from this adventure:

1. Observation Beats Analysis: The best investment tip isn't on Bloomberg screens, it's on supermarket shelves. Focus on the product you use, love, and see growing. (What I did right).

2. When the Story Ends, the Love Ends: Don't form an emotional bond with a stock. The moment the reason you bought it (in my case, the market deal) disappears, it is time to say goodbye to that stock. (What I did wrong).

3. Complacency is the Enemy: Your first success might be luck, it might be talent. But what usually sinks you is saying "I've made it." Never stop checking.

4. Profit Belongs in Your Pocket: Catching the absolute peak is impossible. Instead of being sad I didn't sell at $0.83, I learned to be happy that I bought at $0.15 and sold at $0.69.

This was my first adventure. I both won and learned.

In the next article, we will scale things up a bit. See you in the next lesson, and keep your eyes on the market shelves! 👋

In my last article, I gave you a mission: "Be a detective, examine the brands in your life." Do you remember?

Today, I’m going to tell you how I did this detective work when I was just a student with barely enough pocket money scraped together. This story isn't about complex analysis software worth thousands of dollars; it’s the story of a careful pair of eyes and a simple pack of biscuits.

This is the story of my first "Home Run," and at the same time, the first slap I took from the market. If you’re ready, let’s head to the supermarket shelves.

When my investment adventure began, I was confused. Today my portfolio might hold funds, crypto, or gold, but back then I was just trying to understand the world of "stocks." Twitter (X) was full of soaring stocks and complex charts flying through the air. But I didn't know any of them.

I made a decision: I would only partner with businesses I knew.

From the catering company at the university cafeteria to the bus I rode, from the computer I used to the detergent in the market, I started looking at everything as a "potential stock." As the famous investor Peter Lynch said: "Would I want to own this business?"

I eliminated brands I didn't like or found to be of poor quality. Only one thing remained: That biscuit.

One evening on my way home, I stopped by the local chain supermarket as I always did. I noticed that the biscuit brand I had been tracking for months—but couldn't find everywhere—was now filling the shelves. Not just one variety; everything from their orange tarts to their rusks had arrived.

I immediately caught a store employee:

"Excuse me, did these just arrive?"

"Yes," the employee said. "A new deal was made with the firm; these products will now be in all branches."

Lightning struck in my mind. This information wasn't on the news, nor was it on financial websites. I ran home and examined the balance sheets. The company was already cheap. If this chain market deal was as big as I estimated, doubling their profits wouldn't be difficult at all.

I had only $150 in my pocket.

That money might seem small to you, but for the "me" of that day, it meant months of skipped meals out, missed movies, and sacrifices. It was my entire fortune.

At a price of $0.15 per share, I bought 1000 shares with all the money I had. And I began to wait.

The first few days were a nightmare. I was constantly checking the screen, fearing "Am I broke?" when it dropped a dollar, and dreaming of riches when it rose a dollar. This was not sustainable.

I trusted my strategy. I set an alarm for the company's next earnings call date and deleted the stock market app. This was one of the best decisions of my life. I shut out the noise and focused on the data.

When earnings day arrived, I couldn't sit still from excitement. I watched the meeting live. The company spokesperson explained the deal—the one I had seen on the market shelf months ago—as if it were an ordinary daily event.

When the numbers hit the screen, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a profit explosion even bigger than I had expected.

The market loved this news. The stock climbed first to $0.56, then to the $0.83 level.

My poor little $150 had seen $830 at the peak.

That’s a 5.5 times (x5.5) increase! I felt like the world's smartest investor, a stock market prodigy.

And right at that moment, that sweet poison seeped into my veins: Ego and Complacency.

I had found a great stock, bought it at the bottom, and I was right. The problem was: I thought this rise would last forever.

I risked the money I earned by observing the market, by stopping my observation of the market.

A year passed. Those biscuits started to decrease on the market shelves. Stocks weren't being replenished. If I had continued my "detective work," I would have realized the market hadn't renewed the agreement. But with the complacency of "I'm rich anyway, this stock will fly," I was only looking at the profit on the screen.

At the new year's meeting, reality hit like a slap: The deal was over, revenue expectations were lowered. The stock began to crash.

I placed a panic sell order. I managed to sell my shares, which saw a peak of $0.83, at the $0.69 level during the downtrend.

I was lucky. After I sold, the stock retreated to $0.11—even lower than where I bought it.

This story didn't just make me money; it gave me experience that money can't buy. Here are the notes I kept in my pocket from this adventure:

1. Observation Beats Analysis: The best investment tip isn't on Bloomberg screens, it's on supermarket shelves. Focus on the product you use, love, and see growing. (What I did right).

2. When the Story Ends, the Love Ends: Don't form an emotional bond with a stock. The moment the reason you bought it (in my case, the market deal) disappears, it is time to say goodbye to that stock. (What I did wrong).

3. Complacency is the Enemy: Your first success might be luck, it might be talent. But what usually sinks you is saying "I've made it." Never stop checking.

4. Profit Belongs in Your Pocket: Catching the absolute peak is impossible. Instead of being sad I didn't sell at $0.83, I learned to be happy that I bought at $0.15 and sold at $0.69.

This was my first adventure. I both won and learned.

In the next article, we will scale things up a bit. See you in the next lesson, and keep your eyes on the market shelves! 👋