That they were willing to do it at all was the result of four factors: Joe Cohen, Maria Lewis, Skadden Arps, and prayer. Having the country’s leading law firm in our corner no doubt helped calm down Cowen every time a new problem came up. As to prayer, each person has to make his or her own judgment.

Maria and Joe were the crucial players, though. Cowen is known as a research firm. Their industry position is due largely to the prominence of their analysts. Obviously, Cowen can’t afford to pay its analysts what Goldman Sachs does, any more than the Milwaukee Brewers can afford to pay a freelance pitcher what George Steinbrenner can. They can, however, offer the analysts an independence of decision making, status, and position within the firm that the big guys couldn’t match. The handful of ranked analysts who accepted this in lieu of higher monetary compensation elsewhere were, in my opinion, Cowen’s crown jewels. They had to be coddled and handled with respect.

Once Maria took the position that we were a great firm that should be underwritten, this decision was not easily reversible. When she went further and personally went to bat for us, there were few in the firm who could oppose her without consequence. Not only that, but Joe Cohen’s pledge proved to be unshakable.

Some people stick by their commitments no matter what. I had no way of knowing it at the time, but Joe is such a rare individual. All the theories in the world about gatekeepers are fine, but in a world of men, sometimes one or two determined individuals in the right position can create an exception to any rule. (Take Gorbachev, for instance. In independently acting differently from anything that was to be expected of a Politburo member, he probably is among the ten people who’ve had the greatest impact on the history of our world.) Fortunately for us, Joe and Maria were exceptions and so, much to my delight and surprise, the offering actually came off.

Clearly, not everyone at Cowen saw things the way Maria did. She told us on the Road Show just to be ourselves. People would love us. The banker, though, insisted I hire an elocution coach to polish my rough edges and make me seem more corporate. I agreed to keep peace till I found out that this female Henry Higgins was going to charge me $2,000 per day to turn me from a street urchin into a proper gentleman. At $2,000 per day! “Are you nuts?” I asked the banker. Instead, I hired my own coach, someone well known for coaching Fortune 500 CEOs. She was willing to coach me for $1,000 a day, and I thought maybe I’d like her better.

On the first day of the elocution lesson, though, I could see things weren’t going well. She didn’t like the way I walked or stood. “Carry yourself more like a CEO,” she whined. She didn’t like my jokes. “Try to be more serious, like a CEO.” She didn’t like my honesty. “Don’t tell people you’re not sure about the future. Be assertive and pretend you are like a real CEO.” That was it! That did it!

“Okay, you want me to be assertive like a real CEO?” I fumed. “I’m starting now. This lesson is over. I’ve got more important CEO things to do all day than just keep repeating this speech. I’ll pay you for today and tomorrow because that’s what we agreed, but please leave now! Is that CEO enough for you?”