Jobs Turns the Tables

The suite fell quiet.

The investment bank representatives exchanged glances.

A price of twenty-two dollars meant Pixar's valuation would reach an almost absurd level.

For a company that had only just released its first feature film, this ran counter to traditional financial valuation models.

Hollywood's box-office miracle, Silicon Valley's technological halo, and Sega's sales endorsement in the game market—three forces intertwined, telling Wall Street an unprecedented business story.

"Deal," the lead underwriter's chief said, bringing down the gavel.

Wednesday, November 29.

Nasdaq Stock Exchange.

At 9:30 in the morning, the electronic opening bell ticked over, and PIXR was officially listed.

The market makers on the trading floor stared fixedly at their screens.

Under the usual process, the opening price would fluctuate around the offering price.

This time, the computer system matching trades ran into trouble.

Sell orders were few and far between; buy orders surged in like a tsunami.

The twenty-two-dollar offering price was left behind in the very first second of trading.

The bid price kept jumping upward.

Thirty dollars.

Thirty-five dollars.

Forty dollars.

Because the orders were severely imbalanced, Nasdaq had already been forced to delay PIXR's opening.

Only when the system barely found an equilibrium between buyers and sellers did it complete the first trade.

Opening price: forty-seven dollars.

California, Pixar headquarters.

Jobs did not go to New York to ring the bell.

He stayed in his office, with a Bloomberg Terminal connected to real-time quotes in front of him.

The numbers on the screen kept jumping, and the intraday high touched forty-nine point five dollars.

Lawrence Levy pushed the door open and walked in, holding a printed trading brief.

The two men looked at each other. Neither celebrated out loud.

Jobs looked at the screen.

Ten years of lying low, the trough after being driven out