PICK ONE OF THE ABOVE

By David S. Jackson/San Francisco

WILLIE BROWN HAS NEVER WORKED so hard in his life. As speaker of the California assembly until last June, he was one of the wiliest and most powerful politicians in the state. Last week he was at a subway stop in San Francisco, grabbing for the hands of voters as they rushed for the perennially late trains. "In San Francisco politics is a contact sport," says Brown. "All my campaigns added together haven't been this hard! You have to personally shake hands with every single person in this city. And if you don't, they're insulted!" As if to make the point, a commuter comes up to Brown and says, "I think you're going to be mayor. But don't get cocky. It's going to be close."

That could prove to be an understatement. Brown, 61, is up against incumbent Frank Jordan, 60, a former police chief who came to office as a pro-business "non-politician," and Roberta Achtenberg, 45, a former Assistant Secretary of hud and lesbian activist who is hoping to tap into the city's sizable gay vote. The result is the most closely contested mayoral race in the nation. When voters go to the polls on Tuesday, Nov. 7, they must choose among a low-key pragmatist like Jordan, a well-connected professional pol like Brown and a seasoned social activist like Achtenberg. "San Francisco was one of the first cities in the nation to test whether people who aren't professional politicians can run governments as well as or better than politicians who have been in office for years and years," says independent pollster David Binder. "What's going on now is a referendum on whether that was a good thing." So far that referendum is just about a dead heat, with Jordan slightly ahead at around 29%. But 20% of voters are still undecided.

Four years ago, San Francisco voters started what became a nationwide trend by throwing out Art Agnos, a liberal Democratic mayor, and electing Jordan, a moderate Democrat. Jordan's promises to clean up the streets, balance the budget and get the city back on track offered a welcome change from an incumbent who had allowed the budget deficit to soar and the downtown civic center to deteriorate into a campground for vagrants. To Jordan's credit, he has pretty much done what he promised. FORTUNE magazine last week chose the San Francisco Bay Area as the best city in the U.S.--and the second best in the world--for business. But despite his successes, San Francisco still has plenty of problems. Crime has made some streets dangerous even in the daytime. Public housing is a mess. The police department is fighting charges of corruption and abuse. And the poorer sections of the city desperately need jobs and development.

Jordan, a shy, soft-spoken man, still seems uncomfortable on the stump even after four years in office. But not Brown ("Slick Willie," as Jordan calls him), who leads all the candidates in endorsements--the major unions, many of the Democratic clubs ("Machine," Achtenberg says dismissively) and a healthy collection of ethnic organizations. Achtenberg, meanwhile, has issued a flood of position papers on everything from immigration to the environment. Her most inventive proposal: a council of neighborhoods that would give the city's diverse residents a voice in city hall.

Nevertheless, while Brown promises to win the ear--and funds--of Sacramento and Washington, many see him as a captive of special interests. He has had to defend the $1 million in campaign contributions he has reportedly received from the tobacco and gambling industries over the years (he stirred up more controversy when he suggested exploring the idea of opening a casino at a local naval base). Achtenberg, for her part, cannot count on a solid gay vote. Some are angry that she quit her Washington position, the highest ever held by an openly gay federal official. Indeed, she is likely to take only half the gay vote.

The Nov. 7 vote could be an anticlimax. If no candidate wins more than 50% of the votes, a runoff between the two front runners will be held Dec. 12. Most analysts say Jordan has a better chance to survive the first election than a second, in which he would face the combined opposition of those who voted for Brown and Achtenberg. It is still not fashionable in this liberal, pro-union city to have a mayor who rousts vagrants from downtown, criticizes union rules and appeals to Big Business to stay in town and create jobs. Says Jordan: "I've been a public servant for 37 years. I'm not looking at a future career in politics. I just want to make the city work." Brown, characteristically, is less modest. "The city needs my skills," he says. "I want to bring back the magic."