Dogecoin Traders Are Feeling Lucky—72% Bet Big Despite Price Plunge! 🐕🚀

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In the stifling air of markets, where every hope and sorrow whirls like dust, Dogecoin limped. The price sagged, a mongrel after a long chase, tongue hanging, misunderstood by most, cherished by few. Amid the tumbleweeds of red candles, you’d think folks might cut and run, pockets full of regret and memes.

But no, not these folks. The spirits haunting Binance, that city of digital hope, seemed to catch a peculiar fever. Call it optimism, call it stubbornness, maybe even the foolish heart of a gambler—there’s a tribe of traders staked to the promise of Dogecoin rising again. The data—oracles at Coinglass whispered: 72% of these Binance dwellers were long, holding tickets to the moon, and the rest, a paltry crew of 27%, carried the skeptical torch.

Off Binance hill, though, the landscape soured. Across the wide plains of exchanges, more bet on decline—a tiring parade of shorts adding up to $1.15 billion, gnawing on hope like coyotes at bones. The bulls, fewer, kept company with their wounded dreams; the delicate ratio tilted: 51.86% to the bears sniffling at opportunity, leaving the bulls with naught but 48.19% and a handful of crypto dust.

So why, in Doge’s darkest hour, do Binance folks keep the faith? Is it a collective delusion, a shared joke no one wants to end, or just that old, stubborn dream that fortunes can turn on a dime (or a dog)? Hope clings, even when prices slouch.

Still, open interest wore thin as a Depression blanket. Traders, those grizzled prospectors with callused thumbs, grew wary—less talk of rockets, more mumbling about fear, and clinging to what little they had left. But these are the times when miracles happen—or so the legends say. Quiet as dust motes, reversals begin. No one expects it, not the weary nor the jokers.

There’s talk from the seers—crypto analysts, shifty-eyed and full of chart wisdom. They see a wedge rising, an Ascending Wedge, promising a chase, a rally, and a dream ticket to $1.161. If so, Doge would leave behind its mutt’s life for a king’s feast, exploding 580%—assuming reality doesn’t step in like an angry landlord.

So, the crowds wait, purses clinking with hope and anxiety, eyes fixed on a dog who may yet run. Or, at the very least, roll over for snacks.

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2025-05-07 14:28