For the time being, Jobs and Sculley were able to convince themselves that their friendship
was still strong. They professed their fondness so effusively and often that they sounded
like high school sweethearts at a Hallmark card display. The first anniversary of Sculley’s
arrival came in May 1984, and to celebrate Jobs lured him to a dinner party at Le Mouton
Noir, an elegant restaurant in the hills southwest of Cupertino. To Sculley’s surprise, Jobs had
gathered the Apple board, its top managers, and even some East Coast investors. As they all
congratulated him during cocktails, Sculley recalled, “a beaming Steve stood in the background,
nodding his head up and down and wearing a Cheshire Cat smile on his face.” Jobs began the
dinner with a fulsome toast. “The happiest two days for me were when Macintosh shipped and
when John Sculley agreed to join Apple,” he said. “This has been the greatest year I’ve ever had
in my whole life, because I’ve learned so much from John.” He then presented Sculley with a
montage of memorabilia from the year.
shrieks that erupted. Instead of basking for a moment, it barreled ahead. “Unaccustomed as I am
to public speaking, I’d like to share with you a maxim I thought of the first time I met an IBM
mainframe: Never trust a computer you can’t lift.” Once again the roar almost drowned out its
final lines. “Obviously, I can talk. But right now I’d like to sit back and listen. So it is with
considerable pride that I introduce a man who’s been like a father to me, Steve Jobs.”
Pandemonium erupted, with people in the crowd jumping up and down and pumping their fists
in a frenzy. Jobs nodded slowly, a tight-lipped but broad smile on his face, then looked down
and started to choke up. The ovation continued for five minutes.
After the Macintosh team returned to Bandley 3 that afternoon, a truck pulled into the parking
lot and Jobs had them all gather next to it. Inside were a hundred new Macintosh computers, each
personalized with a plaque. “Steve presented them one at a time to each team member, with a
handshake and a smile, as the rest of us stood around cheering,” Hertzfeld recalled. It had been a
grueling ride, and many egos had been bruised by Jobs’s obnoxious and rough management style.
But neither Raskin nor Wozniak nor Sculley nor anyone else at the company could have pulled off the
creation of the Macintosh. Nor would it likely have emerged from focus groups and committees.
On the day he unveiled the Macintosh, a reporter from Popular Science asked Jobs what type
of market research he had done. Jobs responded by scoffing, “Did Alexander
Graham Bell do any
before he invented