BEN KEITH’S BLOG: Bagging The Elephant: Part 3

So, to translate his opening gambit, it probably meant that he gets a million credit and he can bet any handicap to win four hundred grand.

I nod slowly and make a pensive face, as if I believe what he’s said is true.

‘Mr Gekko, I have come here today to offer you a matching five million dollar facility. That means that if you deposit five million dollars, we will match that with five million credit. We will also lay you any handicap to win five hundred thousand dollars.’

Next to me, I hear Gaul Wood’s chair creak. Every muscle in his body has just gone into a spasm. Blind Ambition is electrocuting him and an invisible smoke is about to start fuming out of his ears like a whistling camping kettle. As usual though, he betrays no emotion, and the duel continues…

Gekko holds us on tender-hooks and doesn’t come back with a response. This is play-time to him, and he wants to savour the agony of the hunter, before giving-in to what he really wants anyway.

‘So tell me, we got a mutual friend right?’

I look at him interested to hear more.

‘The Baron.’

I sit still now wanting him to speak on. Gekko has just uttered the name of the finest client in Star’s history. Of course, of course, they would have known each other, Blog. They would have run together in the old days, comparing moves, and sharing tricks of the trade.

‘Yes, Mr Gekko. The Baron. An old sparring-partner. And what strength of character.’

‘Yeah, yeah, but like me, that strength will take a bit of a battering inside.’

The Baron followed Gekko…all the way to jail. He too though will find his way back to the front in time…

We reflect for a moment. Even Gekko, basking in the glory of forcing his way forward again, shudders at the memory of seven years in prison for insider-dealing. Seven years, of coming to terms that, even he, is not omnipotent on Wall Street.

‘Mr Gekko, tell me, how is your daughter’s business, that one we heard all about in Wall Street 2?’

Gekko bellows out a sarcastic laugh as if playing to a theatre audience, and looks to his computer for a moment, fiddling with his mouse.

‘Oh that old pile of crap?! Yeah, that went down like all of the rest of those stupid non-profit, so called businesses!’

I can’t help but release a little smirk myself too.

He goes on.. ‘But she’s now running the Gekko Come-Back Foundation. Its a charity for ex-cons, giving them a chance to set up small and independent businesses.’. He nods at me, paying himself a little bit of deserved respect. ‘I keep a special eye on it myself too, you’d be surprised, we’ve produced quite a few winners…’

‘Mr Gekko, I have the utmost respect for your charity and have heard much about its good work.’

Now my killer card…

‘And I would like to offer you a cash-back of 10% of any losses you may incur to go to your foundation as a donation.’

He smiles, half-impressed. But like all hard-ball operators, he knows that its at the first meeting you acquire any real and lasting advantages. He’s got no intention of making this one easy.

‘What’s all this matching credit shit, Ben? What, you saying my name is no good? Why have I got to pay on?!’

Like all punters, he has an aversion with actually parting with any money up-front. Now I must stand firm though. Now is the moment that may break the deal.

‘Not at all, Mr Gekko. Five mill is a huge credit line, and we want to see you make a serious pledge, in your deposit, to show your seriousness in covering any debts.’

(What he doesn’t know though, is that as his five million dollars arrive, half of them will immediately make their way to Charlie Tarr for Star Property!)

We are now, in our bodies, sitting in the seats in his office. In our minds and sub-conscious though, we are flying around above his desk, swords in our hands, taking playful swipes at each other. These are the moments that any deal-maker really craves and savours in the corners of his mouth, like a rich and bloody bit of steak. The moments, ever so close to that magic final act; the kill…

I know the offer, on my part, is good and fair. It’s certainly competitive enough to get him going.

‘Well, you know, I think I can do better, Ben. You’re not offering me anything I’m getting elsewhere.’.

He’s bowled me with a yorker. I’m stranded at the wicket, my stumps shattered and flying up into the air. I can hardly reconvene with Gary in the middle of his office. I can’t offer him millions in credit without seeing anything up-front. He’s a US citizen for Christ’s sake. There’s no option to sue. And I’m already flying through any chance of agreeing bet-size limits with Gaul Wood. If I go any higher, he’ll explode!

I have to risk it. I have to call his bluff. I’ve come this far. I have, at least, formed a relationship. I can work on him. Punters situations change, and so may his. Oh, but to have come this far!

I can’t show him anything though. I’ve got to play it cool. Got to sit back, hey, it doesn’t matter to me…

My eyes meet his now, for one of the first times during direct communication. Whether he proceeds or not, he must know that I’m not a roll-over.

‘I’ve considered the account before coming here today, Mr Gekko. I think the credit-line and bet-size limits are very fair indeed, in-fact unprecedented. Also, the charity cash-back offer should be a great incentive to you.’

I’m hanging in the air now. He’s going to catch me, or he’s going to let me fall into oblivion.

He is already standing up though, and starting the walk towards his office door. It’s clear that mine and Gary’s period of usefulness to Gordon Gekko has come to an end.

As he reaches the door, he turns, and holds, firmly into my eyes this time, his gaze, waiting for me to back-down…

I hold my hand out. He meets mine with his, and as doing so, says ‘Thank you, gentlemen. I wish you good luck in New York.’. We reciprocate. The meeting has ended; his bluff called.

The sudden loss of nervous energy that has had us so wired-up is quite debilitating. We don’t want to give any of the vile brokers a hint that we got the knock back though, and this time, as is so often in times of trouble, Gaul Wood takes the lead. We start the walk of shame, back through the brokers-room, empty handed.

The hot and humid New York air smacks us in the face as we leave the chill of the air-con. I go first..

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, not good.’. Gaul responds.

There’s no way to dress this one up. Its been a bloody long wait for that chance, and a more than bloody long way back home, with nothing to show for our patience and scheming.

We loosen our ties and stroll slowly down Wall Street, covering ourselves in the shade where possible. Our heads are down though, and there is no consolation. Pam Statements and Lukey have both sent texts asking how it went but neither of us have replied yet. We just want to press a button and be sitting, via the use of a time-machine, back at our desks in Hove. The magic button doesn’t appear though, and we walk on, back towards the hotel.

At times like this, myself and Gary look to bolster each other. We focus on the positives and ways forward in the firm. Gary nudges me and says the bingo, or this or that, is going pretty well.

I just keep going forward though, trapped in my racked feelings of failure. This was the big one. We put it out there and got firmly knocked back.

For a moment I lose myself in the crowd walking along the pavement, and then, I feel a vibration in my pocket.

My phone is ringing.

I look down, and see that it is a New York number calling me.

Surely not?

I answer the call ‘Hello’.

‘Yeah, alright, kid. You got me. Helen’s wiring the five mill now. Let me know when the dough’s arrived and I’ll get playing on tonight’s baseball.’

The line has gone dead. Gekko doesn’t want to hang around to admit his bluff was called and that the punter deep inside him gave in to someone else’s rules.

I turn to Gaul Wood. He knows from my face. We fire our arms up into the air and join in a huge hug in the centre of the packed street. The happy times are back and we have struck once again, this time, far from home, in a foreign land.

We got Gekko!!

The fire in our veins, for the first time in over a year, is cool. There is a summer breeze running through our bodies and business life seems like an easy place. We walk on, in a rare moment of contentment (Gaul not knowing about the $2,500,000 going to Charlie Tarr for student property yet!).

Gaul says that we had to go a ‘bit big’. I utter the usual words at this time which are ‘don’t worry, we’ll just have to beat him early..’ and he laughs out a knowing bellow of laughter to himself. Its like the old days again; just him and me, taking on the world.

The street, Broadway, continues on and on, and we rejoice, whilst trying to burn off this huge and sudden high. But… gradually, but gradually, we return to our usual settings.

I look to the left and see a run-down building. ‘Surely there’s a move in buying that, Gaul?’. He nods pensively, still moving forward.

Further along the road, there is a huge sports-bar on the right. Gaul disturbs the moment of victory and says ‘a betting unit in there would fly on Sunday nights.’. I agree with him immediately and note down the address.

The fire is slowly returning.

Blind Ambition does not rest for long.

There is always another deal…and there is certainly…always another punter.

Ben x

This blog is, unfortunately, a fictional account, created in my deluded mind, of myself and Gary, going to New York to meet Gordon Gekko. It is dedicated to my dad, Lindsay. He hasn’t been a well boy of late and I send him all of my love and care. Your soft and kind shoulder has always been there for me to cry upon, and it’s also always been so strong to bounce back off again, back into the big-wide-world. This story is written for you and I hope it may ease some pain. Ben xx