7-Up vs. Coke, Part 1: From dot-com darling to disaster, the spectacular flameout of Andrew Gladney. Heir to a fortune, Andrew Gladney went from John Burroughs to Yale and came home to found Savvis Inc. Then he squandered it all.

Gladney wasted little time rebounding from the Savvis heave-ho. In the spring of 1999, at the height of the dot-com boom, he made a cold call to Mark Newman, managing editor of The Sporting News' online edition, and invited him to lunch to discuss a new business venture. The accomplished Newman had recently won a National Magazine Award for revamping TSN's Web site.

In short order Gladney and Newman, along with Robert Cordova, a Yale pal, opened an office on Brentwood Boulevard and prepared to launch MAX Broadcasting Network, a suite of Web sites featuring sports video content.

Gladney partly financed the startup and scoured New York and Silicon Valley for more capital. "There was a little objection because we were St. Louis-based," Newman remembers. "But Andrew's a very powerful personality — very persuasive and energetic."

Gladney put together an initial $3 million and set his sights on raising $30 million in 2000. The goal was an IPO within three years. "I'm sure there will be many other endeavors beyond this one," Gladney told the Post-Dispatch in March of 2000.

In nine months' time, the MAX team rolled out two different Web sites, featuring high-profile commentators including Minnesota Vikings wide receiver Cris Carter, ex-National Football League coach Jerry Glanville and hometown Post columnist Bernie Miklasz.

Former employees say Gladney, a sports fanatic, was extremely passionate and enjoyed appearing as an analyst in the videos. Once in New York, recounts Newman, Gladney got the itch to get in front of the camera. "We were shooting in the production studios of 20/20 and Andrew wanted to get on, so he told me to go over to some shop near the Four Seasons in midtown and buy him some kind of special jacket." Adds Newman: "He's a very snap-your-fingers type of guy."

MAX's former producer, Jeff Fowler, now associate vice president of marketing and communications for Saint Louis University, remembers Gladney as demanding but generous. "He would walk around the office trying to prop you up," says Fowler. "Every Friday he would buy lunch for everybody, and we'd all sit around telling stories."

Gladney's assertiveness didn't always work. "In the big opportunities we had, whether it was NBC Sports or Times Mirror or whatever, Andrew rubbed people the wrong way," Newman says. "I found myself defending him afterwards a number of times. Braggadocio was a very big part of it. He was an evangelist for what we were doing — and I was pretty much saying the same things — but when you go in to meet people from NBC, you don't want to be God. He was pretty much told not to be God, and he was himself. We didn't get that deal."

Those were heady times, when recent college grads were becoming Internet millionaires by the minute, and aspirants like the MAX crew were spending money they didn't technically have. Gladney was one of a number of Savvis alums in St. Louis staking out new Web ventures and hoping to strike gold. "I'm the father of this whole high-tech revolution," he boasted to the Post-Dispatch.

And then the Internet bubble burst. By the end of 2000, MAX was jettisoning staff and preparing to file for bankruptcy. (A judge later ruled the company had to pay back all its creditors.)

Post-Dispatch sports columnist Miklasz says he wrote daily and weekly notes for the site, but that he never met Gladney. "I remember the weekly fee — it was really generous," Miklasz says. "It was a great deal for a sportswriter. As a journalist and somebody who loves multimedia, I thought what they were trying to do was really exciting and I was happy to be a part of it. I thought they had a great vision — it was something you thought: Hey, I hope they can pull this off, because it's pretty cool. But I guess they were a little ahead of their time. They were definitely ahead of their time."

Indeed today, around the clock, sites like ESPN.com and MLB.com do exactly what MAX attempted. "I'm sure Andrew looks back on it like I do, like: Hey, we tried something, and it was worth the risk," says Newman. "I know I learned more then than at any other time in my life, and I don't hold anything against anyone. I fell pretty hard. I got back up. But I don't know what he's done since then. I almost don't want to know."

Asked to elaborate, Newman laughs and says, "It's Andrew."

This is part one of a two-part story. Next week: From multimillionaire CEO to a Jennings jail, Andrew Gladney begins a drug-fueled downward spiral.

Contact the author kristen.hinman@riverfronttimes.com