Until a few days ago, I would have guessed that Carl-Henric Svanberg played on the wing for Denmark, but now I learn he is Swedish and that about the only thing he is good at doing with his feet is putting them in his mouth. Svanberg is actually the chairman of BP and last week he scored an own goal so spectacular that it had even English football fans wincing, by breezing into the US after a delightful but poorly timed sailing holiday and referring to the victims of his catastrophic oil spill as "little people".
But even though his PR skills may leave everything to be desired, I like the cut of Svanberg's jib. On April 28, eight days after the explosion in the Gulf of Mexico, he dived in and bought 175,000 of the company's shares, then worth in excess of £1 million (Dh5.45m), bolstering his total holding to 925,000. Hello, I thought. If anyone knows what's going on, surely it's Svanberg - and if it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me.
But then, when it comes to equity trading, I am a shambling amateur. Having failed to persuade my editor to advance me any real money to risk on the stock market, I have signed up instead to The Share Centre, a UK-based retail stockbroking firm that allows account holders to trade online in shares quoted on the London Stock Exchange. They also offer a free practice account, pre-loaded with £15,000 (Dh81,700) in pretend money, which gives punters slightly delayed access to the same prices, charts and advice real traders see, and a chance to hone their skills before they lose next year's school fees.
If anything, the vast amount of information on tap increased my sense of being utterly adrift in strange and treacherous waters, lacking compass, chart and last-known position. Being a keen yachtsman, I'm guessing Svanberg will know that feeling. Funny money or no, when I sat down to pick and buy my stocks, I caught a distinct whiff of the fear and excitement that will have lured many a day trader onto the rocks of ruin.
Playing with money - even pretend money - is fun, addictive and dangerous, especially if, like me, you have absolutely no idea what you are doing. And, I discovered, it can also be morally complex. Having decided to buy BP shares on the ground that the company's stock was near an all-time low and could surely only bob back up to the surface, I found my finger hovering uncertainly over the mouse. After all, 11 men died to put this stock down here, to say nothing of the economic hardship befalling the fishing and tourism industries in the Gulf.
On the other hand, such squeamishness hadn't stopped Svanberg filling his boots, so who was I to demur? I had 10 seconds to approve the price quote and to click "buy". Before disaster struck, BP shares had been steadily climbing to reach a four-year high of more than 655p a pop. After April 20 they fell off a cliff, and were now at just under 392p. It looked like a safe bet. And I looked smarter than Svanberg, who had jumped in too soon; the shares he bought on April 28 were now worth over 36 per cent less. Plus, unlike him I'd kept my mouth shut and hadn't made matters worse.
So I clicked "buy" and became the proud owner of 2,536 BP shares worth a total of £9,938.58. Or, at least, they were. I set up an e-mail alert to let me know if the price dropped and the constant beep of bad news on my BlackBerry became so depressing I cancelled it. After a trading week the stock had fallen further - another 8.7 per cent, to be precise - to 357.5p. Luckily, I have not put all my imaginary eggs in one basket case.
I felt sure there must be a way to benefit from World Cup frenzy and found two: buying shares in ITV, the British television company screening matches in the UK, and in Domino's Pizza, which, as everyone knows, goes together with football on the telly like England teams and World Cup disappointment. Within a week, my £985.38 in Domino's had risen, albeit by less than a tenth of a per cent, to £992.98. My £2,477.47 in ITV, however, had jumped about 1 per cent to £2,568.24.
In a way, it was annoying. If I'd ignored BP and put all my pretend money into these two, I'd be cashing out now and going on a not-well-earned fictional holiday. And talking of vacations, for my final pick I hedged my bets. What do you do if you want to escape the World Cup? You go on holiday and, in the UK, that means good news for FTSE100 travel company Thomas Cook. Well, not bad news, at least; by week's end my 746 shares, bought at a cost of £1,483.05, had risen 1 per cent to £1,497.97, which at least covered the cost of the trade.
In short, in my first week's trading I lost almost £780, slimming my original stake of £14,884 to £14,124, a loss of just over 5 per cent. Over the same period, the FTSE100 actually gained a little ground, so not what you'd call a victory for the little man. Not yet, at any rate. It's early days and I have a plan, although I can't tell you what it is. I don't want to move the market. jgornall@thenational.ae