NBC had spent a sky-high sum to buy the Olympic broadcast rights, originally counting on exclusive previews to drive ratings.
Now, great—the netizens had all run off to Silicon Valley Online to check the schedule.
"Can we sue them for infringement?" an executive asked.
"The Legal Department has reviewed it. The schedule is public information, so it doesn't constitute infringement. And they've even marked our channel number beside the schedule. In name, they're helping direct traffic to us," the assistant replied.
The executive had nothing to say.
Silicon Valley Online had become a massive intermediary stretching between the television networks and the audience.
The audience had taken the initiative into their own hands, turning on the TV only when the events began. The rest of the time, they soaked online, reading side news and joining discussions.
The Nasdaq trading floor.
Two in the afternoon.
Traders stared at their terminal screens.
SVOL's order book showed unusual movement.
Buy orders from several major institutions suddenly poured in, directly pushing the stock price up from its sideways range around 45 US dollars.
"Silicon Valley Online got the Olympic online sponsorship rights!"
The news spread through the trading floor.
The bearish reports the analysts had issued that morning turned into wastepaper.
After go.com's Olympic zone went live, its clicks per unique IP ushered in a second explosion.
Those netizens who had originally treated email as nothing more than a tool began lingering on the website for long stretches in order to customize their own Olympic channels.
The growth in clicks directly drove GG quotes soaring.
The GG agents for traditional big brands like Coca-Cola and Nike began frantically contacting Silicon Valley Online's Marketing Department.
In this plaza where netizens from across America gathered, even a GG spot in one corner offered better value for