This story comes from Fall 1996, my first semester as a college professor. I was teaching a Precalculus class, and the topic was vectors. I forget the exact problem (believe me, I wish I could remember it), but I was going over the solution of a problem that required finding . I told the class that I had worked this out ahead of time, and that the approximate answer was . Then I used that angle for whatever I needed it for and continued until obtaining the eventual solution.

(By the way, I now realize that I was hardly following best practices by computing that angle ahead of time. Knowing what I know now, I should have brought a calculator to class and computed it on the spot. But, as a young professor, I was primarily concerned with getting the answer right, and I was petrified of making a mistake that my students could repeat.)

After solving the problem, I paused to ask for questions. One student asked a good question, and then another.

Then a third student asked, “How did you know that was ?

Suppressing a smile, I answered, “Easy; I had that one memorized.”

The class immediately erupted… some with laughter, some with disbelief. (I had a terrific rapport with those students that semester; part of the daily atmosphere was the give-and-take with any number of exuberant students.) One guy in the front row immediately challenged me: “Oh yeah? Then what’s ?

I started to stammer, “Uh, um…”

“Aha!” they said. “He’s faking it.” They start pulling out their calculators.

Then I thought as fast as I could. Then I realized that I knew that , thanks to my calculation prior to class. I also knew that since the graph of has a vertical asymptote at . So the solution to had to be somewhere between and .

So I took a total guess. “,” I said, faking complete and utter confidence.

Wouldn’t you know it, I was right. (The answer is about .)

In stunned disbelief, the guy who asked the question asked, “How did you do that?”

I was reeling in shock that I guessed correctly. But I put on my best poker face and answered, “I told you, I had it memorized.” And then I continued with the next example. For the rest of the semester, my students really thought I had it memorized.

To this day, this is my favorite stunt that I ever pulled off in front of my students.

I'm a Professor of Mathematics and a University Distinguished Teaching Professor at the University of North Texas. For eight years, I was co-director of Teach North Texas, UNT's program for preparing secondary teachers of mathematics and science.
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