Intellectual players are those for whom the game is no more than an expensive, but still an entertainment that pleases the ego.
It is possible to distinguish two types of intellectual players. The first type includes socially realized businessmen with developed self-regulation, who can afford the exclusive - and therefore expensive - entertainment of "playing at risk in its purest form".
Losing for them is only an emotional shake of the intellect ("tickle of the nerves", which in life and from work they no longer get in such sharp and fresh state), and winning is an abstract goal, which brings purely moral satisfaction, because he managed to win in a knowingly losing condition: "When sometimes you want to warm yourself up, when you really seriously start to include your intuition, then material reinforcement activates it.
Their strategy:
rely on chance and, when you win, prove to yourself that you're not just an undeserved "lucky guy" in life, but that you "deserve" the benefits you have. This attitude fits well with Protestant ethics, which holds that success in worldly affairs is an indication of being chosen by God. This concept dominates the minds of businessmen.
Their tactic:
to play the game "as equals," contrasting blind chance (which has a mathematical probability of excessive risk on its side) with the power of their own professional intelligence. Their motive: to get satisfaction from solving a supertask (which, in principle, is beyond the power of the human mind, but they consider it solved in the case of a significant win).
The second type includes educated, but not socially recognized people. For them, too, the game acts as an opportunity to prove to themselves that "they can achieve something in life," winning acts just as in the first group, a direct confirmation of a person's high intellectual potential, but, temporarily, not able to prove that "there is also a place under the sun for them.
For such players it is important to win, and this is easy to do if you play proven games such as jungle raja.
