Feature

Tales Of The New Gold Rush

"If the market starts dropping overnight," he continues, "and all those little companies they're funding start running into trouble, I think their assumption is that they're going to come to larger firms, like us. Well, we won't do anything. We'll have our own companies to worry about."

Most of the younger generation of venture capitalists agree: There will be a shakeout. It just won't involve them. "For the average bear in this space, it's very risky," says Austin. "But we don't view this as risky at all."

For three months now, the Silicon Alley Breakfast Club, a kaffeeklatsch for the city's aspiring dot-commandos, has been sponsoring something called "Touched by an Angel," the ultimate pitchathon for would-be Silicon Alley entrepreneurs. Participants submit their business proposals by either e- or snail mail; a selection committee, in turn, culls through them, chooses five or six finalists, and gives each company five minutes to present its plans to real, live venture capitalists.

Both Austin and Brotman are on today's panel, held in the ballroom of the Marriott Marquis. Brotman arrives early. He struts around and stares skeptically at the crowd, busily feasting on gummy bagels. Farkas and Austin straggle in late, exhausted from an evening of quarreling with a large institutional investor. They were trying to turn down its money. "We'd feel too much pressure to spend it all," says Farkas. "We could raise a quarter-billion if we wanted to."

At 8:30, both Austin and Brotman take seats at the podium. The games begin.

Jim Shaffer, the CEO of Clickshare, is up first. His company, he says, will allow consumers to consolidate credit-card numbers and passwords to create a single account on the Internet to purchase goods, services, and information.

Brotman speaks first. "There are 30 other competitors in that space," he says.

Austin is more diplomatic. "What do you offer that others don't?"

Next.

Phillip Seifert, a baby-faced 28-year-old with slicked-back hair and a silver tie, is the CEO of Enginenumber9.com. As rap music blares, he begins to shout: "What are we about? Commerce and content for Generation X -- but with an edge! We're not about Britney Spears! We're about Brandi Chastain taking off her shirt at the World Cup! We're not a Website! We're a club! An exclusive club!"

He starts pacing back and forth, like Susan Powter on a rampage about fat.

". . . These kids want to make money! These kids get it! These kids came out of the womb with an Internet connection and a T1 line . . ."

His voice has started to tax the sound system. The speakers emit a plaintive screech.

". . . I'm not naïve! But give these kids a platform to change the world . . ."

The insanity stops.

Austin: "I feel your passion. I still have no idea what you do. Give me, in 30 seconds, what you're trying to build."

It isn't much clearer five minutes later.

Next.

Paul Dell, from SportingAuction.com. His impulse-buying site for brand-name, bargain-priced new products is already up and running in Petersborough, New Hampshire, and has even managed to rake in $1 million in revenues over the past year. He says he's looking for a second round of funding -- somewhere between $5 million and $10 million.

The panelists, for the first time, are impressed, though each has questions. (Austin wants to know about how he'll compete with eBay and other sporting-goods stores; Brotman wants to know how he's planning to publicize his site -- "Are you going to buy a commercial during the Super Bowl?") But Dell's answers are matter-of-fact and convincing; the way he tells it, anyway, he's found a niche.

Hmmm. Bookmark that.

Two others follow: Chip Ruhnke, from iStreamTV, and Jeffrey Tannenbaum, of DreamFront.com. Ruhnke, though a lovely and obviously brainy fellow, needs a catalytic converter to translate his pitch from engineer into English. Tannenbaum, though also a lovely fellow, needs a catalytic converter to translate 24-year-old into English. ("We're shooting for the stars!" he shouts at one point. "This is a revolution!")

SportingAuction.com wins.

Afterward, dozens of aspirants approach the podium, eager to chat with Austin and drop him their business cards. A few hardy, brave souls line up to speak with Brotman, too, in spite of how flimsily he concealed his contempt for inane ideas.

Glenn Hauman, the ponytailed CEO of BiblioBytes, which enables users to read books online, watches with amusement. "Since when," he asks, "do these guys get the rock-star treatment?"

Brotman, for his part, has a serious case of pitch fatigue -- an occupational hazard, though there are worse ways to get rich.

"I wish," he mutters, "that I'd had a gong."