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By Root 367 0

called a blog but at the time was just a weird form of communication. He was working sixteen-hour shifts at the hospital, confining his blogging mainly to the hours between midnight and three in the morning. On his blog he posted his stock market trades and his arguments for making the trades. People found him. As a money manager at a big Philadelphia value fund said, "The first thing I wondered was, When is he doing this? The guy was a medical intern. I only saw the nonmedical part of his day, and it was simply awesome. He's showing people his trades. And people are following it in real time. He's doing value investing--in the middle of the dot-com bubble. He's buying value stocks, which is what we're doing. But we're losing money. We're losing clients. All of a sudden he goes on this tear. He's up fifty percent. It's uncanny. He's uncanny. And we're not the only ones watching it."

Mike Burry couldn't see exactly who was following his financial moves, but he could tell which domains they came from. In the beginning his readers came from EarthLink and AOL. Just random individuals. Pretty soon, however, they weren't. People were coming to his site from mutual funds like Fidelity and big Wall Street investment banks like Morgan Stanley. One day he lit into Vanguard's index funds and almost instantly received a cease and desist order from Vanguard's attorneys. Burry suspected that serious investors might even be acting on his blog posts, but he had no clear idea who they might be. "The market found him," says the Philadelphia mutual fund manager. "He was recognizing patterns no one else was seeing."

By the time Burry moved to Stanford Hospital in 1998 to take up his residency in neurology, the work he had done between midnight and three in the morning had made him a minor but meaningful hub in the land of value investing. By this time the craze for Internet stocks was completely out of control and had infected the Stanford University medical community. "The residents in particular, and some of the faculty, were captivated by the dot-com bubble," said Burry. "A decent minority of them were buying and discussing everything--Polycom, Corel, Razorfish, Pets.com, TIBCO, Microsoft, Dell, Intel are the ones I specifically remember, but areyoukiddingme-dot-com was how my brain filtered a lot of it.... I would just keep my mouth shut, because I didn't want anybody there knowing what I was doing on the side. I felt I could get in big trouble if the doctors there saw I wasn't one hundred and ten percent committed to medicine."

People who worry about seeming sufficiently committed to medicine probably aren't sufficiently committed to medicine. The deeper he got into his medical career, the more Burry felt constrained by his problems with other people in the flesh. He briefly tried to hide in pathology, where the people had the decency to be dead, but that didn't work. ("Dead people, dead parts. More dead people, more dead parts. I thought, I want something more cerebral.")

He'd moved back to San Jose, buried his father, remarried, and been misdiagnosed by experts as bipolar when he shut down his Web site and announced he was quitting neurology to become a money manager. The chairman of the Stanford Department of Neurology thought he'd lost his mind and told him to take a year to think it over, but he'd already thought it over. "I found it fascinating and seemingly true," he said, "that if I could run a portfolio well, then I could achieve success in life, and that it wouldn't matter what kind of person I was perceived to be, even though I felt I was a good person deep down." His $40,000 in assets against $145,000 in student loans posed the question of exactly what portfolio he would run. His father had died after another misdiagnosis: A doctor had failed to spot the cancer on an X-ray, and the family had received a small settlement. The father disapproved of the stock market, but the payout from his death funded his son into it. His mother was able to kick in $20,000 from her settlement, his three brothers kicked in $10,000 each of