How Millionaire Bankers Actually Work
- Thread starter SunTrader
- Start date
That's the history of Finance in general. I remember reading The Predators' Ball and that describes the lucrative market making of Milken & DBL in the new Junk Bond market. Drexel was literally the only market maker for newly created high yield issues, mainly run through Milken's Beverly Hills office.
That's also how Milken set up his LBO funds by getting his clients who make a lot of money via Junk Bonds to invest in his takeover candidates. Nelson Peltz was one of his biggest clients along with Steve Wynn.
The other day I was watching the tastytrade stream on YouTube. I like them, don't get me wrong, but Tom was trying to describe what they did when they were pros in a very convoluted way and Batista jumped in straight away and said "we were market makers".
Well, there it is.
How about the other ... other side? The comments that follow at that link.
Yes I did, but whether it's good or not is up to you to find out. But I did spill my beans about it earlier this year. Click on the following quote (the arrow at the top will take you to the original thread).
Here's what actually went down after what's written in the article.
"The time for books is fucking over mate. You’re not a fucking kid. You’re here now. You’re in the big leagues. Look at the world with your fucking eyes.”
And that was it. The most important thing I ever heard.
Just after that, toward the end of the year, Chuck called me into his office. I figured he was going to do some kind of “end-of-year-review.”
Since I’d made so much less that year than the previous year, I was pretty disappointed with my own performance. But I’d clawed my way back from more than four bucks in the red, so I figured the review wouldn’t be bad.
As soon as we sat down, Chuck looked me right in the face and apologized.
“Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry. I’m really sorry. I should have known earlier, but, honestly, I didn’t realize until now.”
I looked at Chuck. I had not the slightest idea what he was talking about. His face was not registering a joke. His brow was furrowed, so I furrowed my brow.
“There’s nothing I can do. There’s really nothing I can do. I’ve spoken to HR and I’ve spoken to management. But they both say there’s nothing that can be done. It’s a company-wide policy.”
I was starting to get a little worried now, and was running through a list in my head of all the things this could possibly be. I was coming up blank.
“Look, I’m really sorry that I can’t do anything about it. But I just want to know, are you OK?”
I looked at Chuck and Chuck spoke with the cosmos. I tried to read his eyes for some kind of extra information. I gave up.
“I’m sorry Chuck, but, could you tell me what this is about?”
Chuck spread his huge hands and laughed at me incredulously.
“I mean, of course Gary, of course it’s your salary. But, you know, there’s nothing we can do. It’s a company-wide salary freeze!”
I slowly started to realize what was happening here. Chuck was worried about me and my salary. His concern was, it seemed, on a basic humanitarian level. My salary was £36,000. Plus the £400K bonus, of course.
“I just want to know that you are OK.”
I stared for a while at Chuck’s face. I thought about what this all meant. The guy was not joking. I sighed and looked down at my feet. I reached up and knuckled my brow.
“To be honest Chuck, it’s pretty hard.”
I raised my face up from my hands. Chuck was nodding. It was obvious he really cared.
Chuck placed his hand on my shoulder as I stared out the window.
“Don’t worry Gary, we’ll see what we can do.”
And so Chuck went and spoke to senior management, and they booked me a trip round the world.
THUS, I SPENT THE JANUARY of 2011 in Sydney’s Summer, and Tokyo’s Winter, and I received my bonus on the eighteenth floor of a huge hotel in Singapore, overlooking the Marina Bay.
Rupert was happy to see me. He was living a great life over in Oz. He had a beautiful apartment and a beautiful boat and a beautiful girlfriend, and he was kind enough to line them up sequentially, so I could appreciate them one at a time. We went on a cruise down to Botany Bay, during which Rupert explained in great detail the costs of boat maintenance and I spent the entire time putting on sunblock and then got burnt on the backs of my hands.
Tokyo was cold cold in January. A gray Lego city of bright lights and strong winds. I met the prosaic Hisa Watanabe and the irrepressible Joey Kanazawa. You’ll hear more of them later on.
There was no reason for me to go to Singapore. None at all. There wasn’t even a STIRT desk out there. But Chuck had asked me one time where in the world I’d like to go to, and I had just said to him “Singapore,” without really knowing where it was. So Chuck added it to the tour. It was a bit like when I told my nan I liked Lion bars, and then she got me them for Christmas every year till she died.
Singapore was beautiful. I had friends from LSE there, so I spent the time hanging out with them. And when Chuck called about my bonus on the phone in my hotel room, I was sitting on a bed, high, high up in the sky.
Over the phone, Chuck told me how proud he was about the way I clawed my way back from four bucks in the red. He said everyone had noticed. Not just everyone on the desk, but everyone on the whole floor. I hadn’t realized. Maybe he was just blowing smoke up my arse. He told me that he really believed in me. That he thought I would be something big. That he really wanted me to hit it the next year and he knew that I would. Then he gave me £420,000.
I looked out over the marina. The sun was so bright it was blinding, and it reflected off of everything. The water, the skyscrapers, the gardens, the little lion that shoots water from its mouth.
It wasn’t my sun, it was another man’s sun. I wondered what all of it meant.
OK, I thought, time to go home then. Time to be the best trader in the world.
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Now you know why I threw the damn book. The article that OP posted turned him into some kindn of enlightened guru but, as you can see, he's just another self-serving greedy *&^%$! (fill-in-the-blank).
Thanks schizo.
I kinda got the impression from the vid that he was a guy who had lost (part of) his mind and now was on a mission to save the world. A bit like Harrison Ford's 'Henry'. Still, I might read the book - when I feel a need to have a break from the serious stuff and indulge myself in some drama.
Thanks - I'll check these shortly.
I know right...would we be talking about this dude if he was trading out of his basement? Nope. Are you planning on working for an investment bank? Nope. So he has absolutely nothing to offer you. These guys aren't traders...anymore than vin diesel was in the movie boiler room. The game is rigged in their favour ..the best traders out there are retail traders/reddit traders.
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in 2001, I heard the same thing. There was talk that the trading floor wouldn’t exist in 10 years. Our groups headcount never went down, it only grew: New innovations, more complex risk, greater volumes, and more services.
in those 23 years many many people started as an intern and retired wealthy.