To: afrayem onigwecher who wrote (9834 ) 5/10/2002 6:36:39 PM From: StockDung Respond to of 19428 Notes on the bursting of Henry's bubble By Joshua Chaffin in New York Published: May 7 2002 21:45 The pile of Merrill Lynch emails released by New York attorney-general Eliot Spitzer last month support his contention that the broker's internet analysts sacrificed their integrity in order to drum up business for their investment banking colleagues. But read in full, the emails offer something more: a rare glimpse into the life of celebrity stock analyst Henry Blodget at the height of the biggest speculative bubble of modern times. The portrait that comes across is of a young man who is more human - and more uncertain - than the television personality whose words could once make share prices dance. Mr Blodget engaged frequently in debates with his deputies over where to place unproven companies on Merrill's intricate ratings scale. He sometimes advised restraint. "The first bullet is pretty bullish, no?" he wrote to Sofia Ghachem, a Merrill analyst, concerning a glowing report she had prepared on Infospace, a wireless internet company. "You don't have to make writing conform to rating - I'd rather it be the other way around," he reminded her. Mr Blodget could be cavalier about his duties. "No one gives a #### except retail and press," he explained to an executive after coaching him through an investor conference call. But he was also an affable boss: "I don't mean to be a pain on this one, but . . ." was the typical way that he prefaced a request to one of his deputies. Above all, the emails show that Mr Blodget was a very, very busy man. As the arbiter of value in the dotcom era, everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece of him. Internet companies were eager for him to bless their deals. Merrill's investment bankers wanted to rent his services to win new business. And Merrill stock brokers would call on the wonder analyst to understand the latest shifts in the market. The messages create the impression that harried Mr Blodget was not a lonely analyst, locked away in an office studying technical charts and capitalist philosophy, but rather a master painter signing off on the works of a bustling staff. That would help to explain the weary note that Mr Blodget sent a colleague from Florida in February 2001: "I'm going to have to work like crazy for the next few months. Definitely have that burned-out feel. This just ain't a low-stress job." The biggest drain on Mr Blodget's time was not research per se but investment banking. He revealed in a March 1999 memo that he was spending 85 per cent of his time on banking matters. That email was written at a time when the market was frothing with internet deals and a lagging Merrill was under pressure from senior management to catch up with rivals Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley for a share of the business. Research in general, and Mr Blodget in particular, were one way Merrill hoped to rope in dotcom clients. "Do you think we should aggressively link coverage with banking - that is what we did with Go2Net (Henry was involved)?" asked a Merrill investment banker in one message in April 2000. There was a flurry of requests for the star analyst to meet prospective clients, whose stock he might one day tout. "Bankers have a meeting with Arun on the 27th where they promised a guest appearance from you - is that true, cause if it's not, the co will be very unhappy with us," one analyst wrote to Mr Blodget in June 2000. For Mr Blodget and his team, dealing with would-be masters of the new economy was not always all it was cracked up to be. Ms Ghachem once warned in a message to her colleagues about the "prima donnas" from Infospace and their new chief executive. Even as Mr Blodget became the centrepiece of Merrill's internet business, the marketing effort had galloped beyond him. To his astonishment, tech stocks he covered were added to one of the broker's recommended lists. "What is the 'Favored 15' and why is INSP on it?" he wrote to Deepak Raj, a senior executive in the research department, after fielding angry complaints from investors about the list. Unknown to Mr Blodget, the "Favored 15" was compiled by another Merrill group as a selection of "VERY high octane", high-risk stocks based in part on ratings that he had assigned. "Happy days," wrote Mr Blodget when he finally succeeded picking his way through Merrill's bureaucracy and removing a company from the list. When the bubble finally burst, the analyst and his team seemed bewildered. "Shame on me/us for giving them any benefit of the doubt," he lamented after yet another of his recommendations had collapsed. Merrill's brokers were even more critical as their losses mounted. Martin Brown, a 20-year Merrill broker from Grand Rapids, claimed that he was in jeopardy of losing a "massive amount" of clients and assets because of Mr Blodget's calls. Mr Brown chastised the bank for its tendency to downgrade stocks after they had already plunged. "This kind of hindsight my 13-year-old daughter can do us for free," he wrote. Jeffrey Sexton, from Louisville, was enraged when he discovered from a news article that parts of Info- space's annual report were handwritten. "Shame on me for not doing the due diligence that I and other [financial consultants] assume you and other analysts are doing," Mr Sexton wrote. "Tell me they have the wrong Infospace or the handwritten draft of the founder's Harvard B-school thesis." If there was one benefit to Mr Blodget from living so publicly through the tumult of the internet bubble, it would seem to be that it steeled his nerves for the ensuing legal turbulence. He seemed remarkably unruffled in a note to Kirsten Campbell, a former research colleague, last July, just after Mr Spitzer had launched his probe: "Have fun with the lawyers, and don't worry about it," Mr Blodget advised. "I was scared to death in the beginning, but have since learned that these things happen all the time. Look forward to having lunch at some point. H."