Deacon Blues and the Trader’s Journey
Keep pushing forward—just like gold is dominating stocks right now.
There’s a reason Deacon Blues by Steely Dan hits differently when you’ve lived through risk, failure, and the slow grind of pursuing something uncertain.
"I’ll learn to work the saxophone, I’ll play just what I feel"—that’s the dream, the illusion of control.
The belief that if you just put in enough time, enough effort, enough obsession, you’ll get it right.
But then comes the reality as a trader. The markets don’t care about effort. Talent doesn’t always pay the bills.
Probability humbles even the most confident players.
And then comes the most haunting line in the song:
“They got a name for the winners in the world, I want a name when I lose. They call Alabama the Crimson Tide—call me Deacon Blues.”
This is a song about embracing loss, about choosing a life where you’re likely to fail, but choosing it anyway because the pursuit itself is what matters. Every trader has to face this moment—when they realize that mastery doesn’t guarantee success, and success doesn’t always mean security.
But nothing encapsulates the trader’s experience more than:
“I cried when I wrote this song, sue me if I play too long. This brother is free, I'll be what I want to be. I'll drink scotch whiskey all night long, and die behind the wheel.”
That last line. That’s the one that stays with you.
Trading is the art of controlled recklessness. You spend your life studying the craft, backtesting, journaling, refining your edge. But at the end of the day, you’re still stepping into uncertainty.
You can have all the tools, all the data, and still—one trade can take you out.
One moment of greed or one lapse in discipline.
Dying behind the wheel isn’t just about the literal crash—it’s about knowing the risk, knowing the odds, and still deciding to get in the car.
A.K.A. Putting on the next trade.
The true traders, the ones who make it, are the ones who respect the machine but don’t fear it. They understand the weight of what they’re doing, but they don’t let that weight crush them.
In trading, as in Deacon Blues, the ones who last aren’t the ones who win the most.
They’re the ones who can sit in the pocket of uncertainty, who can take the losses, the volatility, the doubt, and still press forward.
Following their system and risk management models.
They’re the ones who understand that every time they put on a trade, they could—at least metaphorically—die behind the wheel.
Or take a loss.
And yet, they wouldn’t have it any other way.