NEW YORK — After winning two gold medals and a silver for swimming in the 1988 Olympics, Chris Jacobs decided it was time to start the second phase of his life.
After taking some time off to finish school and travel, he headed to Wall Street, a stomping ground for many other former Olympians who are drawn to its fast pace and competitive edge.
Jacobs, 37, is a distressed bank debt trader with J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. He still swims a few times a week to keep in shape and "compete a little bit against other older people who have to work for a living," he quipped. Wall Street appeals to him, he said, because, like sports, the harder you work, the greater the likelihood that you'll do well.
Jacobs shares a common bond with a number of former Olympians who have made their way from ski slopes and sports stadiums to office cubicles. Used to competing under extreme pressure, the financial services business offers a good outlet for these athletes.
"The intensity of this business was as close to athletics as I could find," said Otto Tschudi, who skied in the 1968 and 1972 Olympics for Norway and now runs Thomas Weisel Partners' European operations.
Tschudi didn't win any medals in the Olympics, but he continued to ski, spending seven years as a pro before heading into finance. His love of sports also helped nurture a friendship with Thomas Weisel, who himself tried out, but failed to qualify, as a speedskater for the 1960 Olympics.
They met in Sun Valley, Idaho, in 1974. About nine years later, when Tschudi was looking for a career change, he called on Weisel's partner for advice. Discussions led to a job at Weisel's firm, Montgomery Securities, selling research to European institutions. When Weisel left Montgomery to start Thomas Weisel Partners, Tschudi followed soon after.
For many, the road to the Olympics started early. Growing up, Rick Carey, chief technology architect for Merrill Lynch & Co., didn't think he had what it took to be a champion.
But at 13, during a competition, he saw Olympic swimmer John Naber in the stands and offered to buy him lunch. When asked why afterwards, Carey responded: "I don't think that I could have beaten you until I saw you eat." Realizing that Olympians were human was a turning point, said Carey, who won three gold medals in swimming in the 1984 Olympics.
"That's when I started thinking about the Olympics," he said.
For others, however, dreams of Olympic glory came later. Paul Callahan, a 44-year-old investment adviser with Advest Inc., broke his neck in 1980 after slipping on a wet floor, leaving him a quadriplegic. He began sailing in 1994, on an adapted sailboat, and went on to win numerous awards.
Callahan won the right to skipper a boat for the United States in the 2000 Paralympic Games in Sydney, Australia, and finished seventh out of 17 countries. He hopes to win the gold in Athens in 2004.
"It's the best feeling in the world," he said of competitive sailing, adding that it's similar to investing. "You need to have a game plan, belief in your convictions and patience. Along with that comes teamwork, concentration and focus," said Callahan, who has been with Advest, a unit of Mony Group Inc., since May.
One attribute many former Olympians share is that they no longer compete in their sport.
After bobsledding in three different Olympics, investment management consultant Bryan Leturgez had had enough. Training kept him on the road for about six months a year and prevented him from the full-time pursuit of his other passion — investing.
The 39-year-old officially got into the investment business after the 1998 Olympic Games through a networking contact at outplacement firm Drake Beam Morin, which has an alliance with the Olympic Job Opportunity Program. Leturgez has been with IJL Wachovia, a unit of Wachovia Corp., since.
He still misses bobsledding, though. "I really do miss the competition," he said.
Stacey Blumer, one of the Olympic torchbearers as it passed through San Francisco a few weeks ago, also misses the competition but doesn't think her body could handle the stress anymore. An aerial skier, she was set to go to the 1994 Games but tore her Achilles tendon about a month before.
Blumer, now 32, made the team again in 1998 but didn't medal. After that, she packed her belongings and headed to San Francisco from her native Connecticut to begin a two-month internship for Charles Schwab Corp., through its affiliation with the U.S. ski team.
A letter of thanks to Schwab's co-chief executives and a follow-up e-mail to one of them, David Pottruck, got her a one-on-one meeting and, ultimately, a full-time job as a regional bond specialist.