The art of predictive gambling is not unlike any other skill. It is not dependent on raw talent, but rather on dedication, focus and practice. To truly comprehend this concept, imagine a simple scenario: the differences between luck, capability and skill.

One young basketball player I coached, standing at just 5 feet 4 inches tall, possessed a decent vertical leap, reaching about 18 inches. Unfortunately, she could never slam dunk a basketball. Her height and leaping ability serves as a reminder that one’s capabilities do not determine their level of skill in a particular area; skill is ultimately determined by their determination and effort put into honing those skills. Nevertheless, she will never be capable of dunking because that particular element of basketball has little to do with skill development.

Basketball has always been a true passion of mine, consuming every moment of my life since I can remember. From the early morning hours spent practicing on the court to the late nights studying film and perfecting my skills, there was nothing I loved more than this game. Despite playing in college, I never came close to the level of excellence I had hoped for.

I vividly recall one college game in Vallet City North Dakota. I matched up against a towering opponent who would go on to be drafted by the Chicago Bulls in the 5^th round. We exchanged a firm handshake before tip-off, both determined to dominate the game ahead. As the final buzzer sounded and we shook hands again, his grip strong and victorious while mine felt weak and defeated, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy mixed with admiration for his 54-point performance. Yep, he tore me a new one.

Despite the obstacles I faced, my love for basketball never wavered. In fact, it only strengthened as I transitioned from playing to coaching. I coached players at many levels but with my work and family responsibilities, I focused on volunteering and youth coaching predominantly. With each new team, I witnessed growth and progress on the court. It brought me immense pride to see how my guidance and support helped them develop into stronger players. Yet, I also recognize that it was the players’ determination and relentless effort that truly fueled their success.

As a coach, I always understood that my role was to nurture and improve a player’s skills. This seemingly simple concept is often overlooked by others in the field, but for me, it is at the core of my coaching philosophy. But let’s turn our attention back to my 5’ 4” basketball student.

I could have poured all my effort into teaching her the mechanics of dunking a basketball, pushing her to improve and excel. I could have crafted specialized exercises and drills, exposing her to the overlooked details that most coaches tend to miss. I could have honed in on her upper and lower body coordination, designing targeted workouts to enhance her athletic abilities. But even after all of this, would she have been able to soar above the rim with ease? Would she have felt the weightlessness and thrill of success?

Even with a significant five inch increase in her vertical leap, she still fell short of the basketball rim on her attempts to dunk. If only I could have magically boosted her vertical leap from a modest 18 inches to an impressive 40 inches, she would have soared effortlessly to the rim. But alas, she was not blessed with the stature and physical abilities necessary for such a feat. Her petite frame and limited height were simply not conducive to dunking a basketball. Despite her determination and hard work, she was ultimately limited by factors outside of her control.

The significance of this seemingly trivial basketball dunking example lies in the fact that I was able to elevate my student’s basketball skills to a much higher level. Against all odds, she became a formidable guard on the court, utilizing her left and right hands with equal dexterity. However, as impressive as her improvement was, it was clear that her physical limitations would never have passed the rigorous standards of a WNBA tryout. Still, she had become a vastly improved basketball player and her skills improved.

Every day, I am struck with disbelief by the sheer incompetence of coaches and leaders in both sports and business. These dreadful individuals spend their time daydreaming that they are legendary figures like Knute Rockne, John Wooden, or Jack Welch. They waste precious moments on meaningless strategies, obsessing over x’s and o’s, participating in pointless outdoor excursions, or endlessly revising company mission statements.

It is a tragic reality that coaches and leaders squander valuable time that could be used to nurture and develop their team members’ skills. Instead, they put them through grueling and poorly-designed plays in sports, or send them off on frivolous sensitivity retreats in business. What a shame.

Rather than striving to improve their organizations and empower individuals to reach their full potential through skill development, these incompetent leaders consistently fall short. They are quick to point fingers at their team, labeling them as lazy or lacking the necessary talent to succeed. Rarely, if ever, do I come across interviews where these knucklehead coaches and business leaders take accountability for their subpar efforts. It’s a shame that their narrow-mindedness hinders progress and growth, both within their organization and in themselves.

Skills can be developed like muscles under tension—though thankfully without the sweaty gym selfies. This book won’t magically boost your intellectual horsepower; your mental capacity remains as fixed as a 5’4″ basketball player who still thinks she’s one growth spurt away from WNBA stardom. Your IQ won’t suddenly skyrocket, nor will you transform into Nostradamus after reading these pages. But even if your brain is more “economy model” than “luxury sedan,” you can still learn to make better predictions—weighing probabilities like a Vegas bookie with a mortgage payment due. These decision-making skills will improve everything from your morning stock picks to your midnight Tinder swipes, though I can’t promise either will end well.

I’ll never forget the corporate circus I was once invited to join—the kind where the clowns wear suits and the high-wire act is performed without a net over a pit of quarterly reports. After my team developed a reputation for pulling rabbits out of hats in other departments, I was asked to visit the CEO in his corner office. His mission for me: salvage the tech division, a digital Titanic that had been enthusiastically hitting icebergs for months. Our transaction volume was so massive that our systems were essentially having daily nervous breakdowns.

What did I find when I peeked behind the curtain? Leadership had hired the Rolls-Royce of consulting firms—you know, the kind where recent Ivy League graduates charge you $500 an hour to explain what a computer is. These consultants had been “solving the problem” for nearly a year, burning through cash faster than a lottery winner at a Ferrari dealership, with results you could fit on a Post-it note. I rounded up my usual suspects—a team that had previously helped me turn water into wine—and together with the resident management team and our expensively educated consultants, we prepared to face the dragon. Or at least teach it how to reboot properly.

My initial question to the entire group went something like this: “You’ve all been experiencing these infrastructure downtime issues for a year now, correct?” Heads nodded in unison, a wave of silent acknowledgment spreading across the room. “And we still continue to face downtime issues, right?” Another series of nods followed, like a ripple in a pond. “Are the issues the same today as they were six months ago?” After some discussion, they reached a consensus that some problems remained unchanged, while others had evolved. “Alright then, could you show me the Pareto chart of all the recorded downtime issues over the past year?” At that, they exchanged puzzled glances before the managing partner from the consulting firm hesitantly turned to me and said, “We can get you that.” I replied, “Great, go get it.” Suddenly, a palpable tension filled the air, and everyone in the room turned as pale as a sheet. The partner then explained that they would have to sift through all the downtime logs and create the chart I had requested.

Of course, in my usual kind manner, I felt the blood rush to my face as I leaned forward and said through clenched teeth, “You son of a bitches have been working on this for a year and cost our shareholders thousands of dollars in the process, and you can’t even delineate the causes of downtime?” I then proceeded to rip everyone in the sterile, fluorescent-lit conference room a new asshole, my voice echoing off the glass walls as my six team members stared down at their untouched notepads. I knew I had just asked for the most basic and beginning tool utilized by anyone ever trained in statistical science, quality or problem solving—the equivalent of asking a surgeon if they’d remembered to wash their hands.

The next week I summoned one of my team, a former Marine Corps Captain with two Masters degrees, into my office. I instructed him to terminate all fifteen consultants who had been occupying our east wing conference room for months. “I want that room cleared out by 9 AM Monday,” I said, watching his jaw tighten with determination. I then kiddingly said, “if they’re not gone, you better be.”

After dismantling the ineffective management team through a series of tense closed-door meetings, we rolled up our sleeves and attacked the problem methodically. Our team worked through the weekend, fueled by takeout and determination, creating a detailed Pareto chart that revealed the critical failure points. By the end of the month, the infrastructure hummed efficiently, network speeds had tripled, and the infrastructure that had plagued the company for far to many months finally performed flawlessly.

In every realm, there are coaches who have failed to understand the importance of curriculum focused on knowledge, quality and skill development. As a consequence, their players struggle and falter while opposing teams, led by skilled and devoted coaches, consistently triumph over them game after game, year after year. It is a constant cycle of defeat and stagnation for those under the guidance of ineffective coaches.

A fiery anger burns within me as I witness this injustice. These coaches and leaders are often overlooked until it’s too late, their actions causing irreparable harm. Innocent children and young adults are manipulated and wrongfully blamed in these systems, yet they are forced to adhere to the rules set by the very coaches responsible for their well-being. These individuals are nothing more than destroyers of people, their actions fueled by ignorance and arrogance. As I watch with a heavy heart, a sense of fury boils inside me at the sight of hopeful, wide-eyed kids being torn apart by a group of ignorant and selfish assholes. It sickens me to my core.

Years ago HBO had a show called “John from Cincinnati” that captivated my attention. I was enamored with its unique characters and gripping storyline, but unfortunately, it was cancelled after just one season. One of the main characters, John, had a habit of saying, “Some things I know and some things I don’t.” This simple yet profound quote perfectly acknowledges the reality of human ignorance.

No matter how intelligent or wealthy a person may be, there will always be subjects on which they are uninformed. It serves as a reminder to approach life with humility and remain open to learning and growth. Even in our modern age of information and technology, there are still mysteries waiting to be uncovered and explored. “John from Cincinnati” may have been short-lived, but this quote continues to resonate as a powerful truth about the human experience.

The distinction between ignorance and intelligence is often blurred. It is not uncommon for individuals with high IQs, such as a bible-thumping duck commander or a wealthy, racist basketball team owner, to also possess ignorant and manipulative tendencies. Despite their intelligence, they may hold strong biases and disregard proven scientific facts. Perhaps they choose to ignore the complexities of relationships, or fail to acknowledge the importance of morals and respect in society. Their ignorance extends beyond mere lack of knowledge – it is a willful neglect to educate themselves on these important matters. By choosing to remain ignorant, they do a disservice not only to themselves but also to those around them.

Like the mysterious John from Cincinnati, there are countless things I am ignorant of. The truth is, it has been almost 50 years since I last set foot in a school. Yet, if there is one thing that I do possess knowledge about, it is variation – an understanding of life for me, built upon a body of predictive knowledge that few can comprehend.

Skills can be developed like muscles under tension—though thankfully without the sweaty gym selfies. This book won’t magically boost your intellectual horsepower; your mental capacity remains as fixed as a 5’4″ basketball player who still thinks she’s one growth spurt away from WNBA stardom. Your IQ won’t suddenly skyrocket, nor will you transform into Nostradamus after reading these pages. But even if your brain is more “economy model” than “luxury sedan,” you can still learn to make better predictions—weighing probabilities like a Vegas bookie with a mortgage payment due. These decision-making skills, like creating a Pareto chart, will improve everything from your morning stock picks to your midnight Tinder swipes, though I can’t promise either will end well.