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<DIV class=t_msgfont id=postmessage_1449>Plagued in 1994 by massive losses, personnel defections, and internal bickering, Goldman Sachs is once more riding high. Leading the charge is the new guy at the top: Illinois farm boy-turned-trader Jon Corzine.<BR><BR>Everyone loves a good horror story. Particularly the business press. Thus, it's only natural that companies in trouble after a time at the top of their industry attract more than their share of the spotlight. Witness Intel's Pentium chip fiasco. Exxon's public flogging in the wake of the Valdez disaster. The focus on IBM as smaller, more nimble competitors began tearing a chunk out of its hide a decade ago. And the rapt fascination as government-supported Japanese monoliths in the mid-1980s took turns whacking the Xerox pinata.<BR><BR>Then there's Goldman Sachs, which built a reputation over the last several decades as the premier investment bank in the U.S. Until 1994, that is, when Goldman took a cannonball in the solar plexus after a wicked downturn in the bond market. For a time, the company appeared to be in a free fall. As losses mounted, partners jumped ship, tearing a gaping hole in the bank's talented Murderer's Row lineup. To be sure, Goldman's competitors were far from unbloodied. Archrival Salomon Brothers lost nearly $1 billion before taxes last year. But squeaky-clean Goldman - renowned for its unequivocal refusal to participate in hostile takeovers during the M&A mania of the go-go 1980s - was America's Team, and each spot of mud on its uniform was magnified. If Solly was boozy, foul-mouthed, swaggering Babe Ruth, forever craving the Long Ball, Goldman was Lou Gehrig - a clean-living, self-effacing Iron Horse, and the pre-eminent clutch player in the game. Two-bagger in the gap, clear the bases, send them home; all in a day's work. Precisely the type of player Wall Street's down-and-dirties love to root against. Publicly. Off the record, of course. 'Banner headlines proliferate: "The Goldman Standard Slips." Newsmagazine investigations take us "Inside Goldman's College of Cardinals."<BR>Advertisement<BR><BR>It would be hard to sugarcoat Goldman's 1994 slide. Earnings at Wall Street's last major limited partnership collapsed to $508 million from $2.3 billion the year before. But America's Team is back, pumping on all cylinders, and surprising even the skeptics. Earnings in the six months ended in late May nearly matched the figure for all of last year, driven by an increase in underwriting revenue, merger fees, and the rallies in the stock and bond markets that began late last year. Analysts project the firm could earn $1 billion this year.<BR><BR>The prime mover behind this resurgence is the new senior partner, Jon S. Corzine, 48, who took the reins when Steve Friedman announced his retirement last November and became senior chairman. At first glance, Corzine fits the traditional Goldman profile. The son of a central Illinois grain farmer, Corzine spent virtually his entire career at Goldman, signing on as a bond trader in 1975, one year out of the University of Chicago Graduate School of Business. Co-head of the fixed-income division from 1988 to 1994, he was elected chairman of the management committee and senior partner in 1994.<BR><BR>But on closer examination, Corzine is a cat of a different stripe. Painfully sotto voce - even while sitting next to him, listeners must lean close at times to hear him - he represents a marked contrast to former Masters of the Universe such as previous Salomon Chairman John Gutfreund. A self-described consensus builder - no Big Swinging Dick, as Michael Porter of "Liar's Poker" fame called Wall Street's 1980s kingpins - Corzine entered the fray with a commitment to launch a wholesale re-engineering of white-shoe Goldman. He wears sleeveless, pullover sweaters - even in summer - and he sports a beard, a shocking bit of iconoclasm.<BR><BR>When Corzine took office, he vowed everything would be on the table, including compensation, planning, proprietary trading, and the partnership structure itself. Perhaps most critical - and central to Goldman's corporate makeover - is Corzine's commitment to cut costs and overhaul Goldman's risk management procedures. "As we grew globally and took on more activities, we may have paced our growth faster than we should have," Corzine says of Goldman's wild ride in the late 1980s and early 1990s. "We now have to adjust to a slower pace, and a more disciplined approach to investments, costs, and risk issues."<BR><BR>What would Sherman McCoy, the anti-hero of Tom Wolfe's "Bonfire of the Vanities," think of such a restrictive environment? "Things are quieter than they were a few years ago," allows Roy Smith, a professor of finance at New York University's Stern Business School, who retired as a Goldman general partner several years ago. "There are some differences of style and personality." Nonetheless, particularly on the trading side, Smith adds, today's markets hardly lack for excitement. "You have proprietary traders making huge amounts of money with black-box arbitrage systems with a shelf life of less than 12 months - before other people figure them out or markets move and the opportunity closes," he says. "There's the impact of electronic trading and the fact that with most large firms, more than 50 percent of business comes from risky international markets."</DIV> |
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