It’s a question only a tiny sporting elite ever face – what to do next after you’ve won it all. Alexander famously blubbed when he had no more worlds to conquer. Emotional incontinence isn’t Willie Mullins’s style, though, and he shows no sign of loosening his grip on the Cheltenham Festival anytime soon.
It is 30 years since the man who has changed the face of National Hunt racing saddled his first winner at the biggest meeting of the year. Tourist Attraction landed the 1995 Supreme Novices Hurdle at 25/1.
Her 38-year-old trainer had taken out a license six years before and still juggled training with riding. In 1996 he rode his third Cheltenham winner as a jockey on Wither Or Which. He was a good rider, champion amateur in Ireland six times. But what followed has proved transformational.
The year before Tourist Attraction, the story of Danoli and Tom Foley captivated racing. A year after it, Imperial Call and his idiosyncratic ex-soldier trainer Fergie Sutherland did the same. Such plucky underdog stories are all but impossible to imagine at Cheltenham any more. The Mullins revolution has dragged the old game into the modern age. Success has bred levels of success that once would have been unthinkable.
Last year Mullins crashed through the “century” mark of Cheltenham Festival winners. He’s on 103 ahead of next week’s action. In 2022 he had 10 winners in a single week. There isn’t a race of note he hasn’t won at least once. Galopin Des Champs, the horse labelled his crowning glory, can join Arkle as a triple-Gold Cup winner this Friday.
[ It’s 100 and counting as Willie Mullins continues stunning Cheltenham runOpens in new window ]
Statistically, perhaps the broader impact of that revolution is underlined by him being champion trainer in both Ireland and Britain right now. More than 4,500 winners in Ireland alone is an all-time record here. Echoing broader trends, a concentration of ownership resources into a handful of training yards means that Mullins has become the most super of superpowers.
To do all this and not generate significant personal animosity in a backbiting business is a dexterous double. Always “William” to his late mother, he is invariably Willie to everyone else. He is an approachable sporting titan. Just as deft a double is how rare it is to get a peek behind the personable exterior and glimpse the driving professional ambition lurking underneath.
Results are the greatest evidence of those understated competitive instincts, and they show no sign of waning. Mullins will be 69 in September. He had big heart surgery in 2019. His son Patrick, the most successful amateur rider of all time, is 35 and an obvious heir apparent. Then again, you’re a long time retired. His English rival Nicky Henderson is 74 and still up for the fight.
“There are three questions always being asked. Will he ever stop? Will he do a joint license with Patrick? Or will he just keep going?” says a friend who has known Mullins for over 50 years. “I would be inclined to say he’ll keep going. His father did.”
Paddy Mullins, the patriarch of one of racing’s most accomplished families, officially retired 20 years ago at the age of 86. Declining health at the end meant his youngest son Tom did much of the heavy lifting. They even enjoyed classic success on the flat during that time. The old man’s eldest son has also won a Curragh classic, but stamina is the family foundation.
There’s also the reality that the cornerstone of the most successful operation in racing history is ultimately rooted in one man’s eye for a horse. A team of talent scouts and buyers focus on every point-to-point in Ireland and juvenile hurdle in France. All of it, though, ultimately depends on a thumbs up or down from the boss.
“He’s always training off his eye,” Patrick Mullins has said of his father who can have up to 250 horses in his Co Carlow yard at any one time. “He doesn’t have lists. He’s on the gallop every morning looking at the horses. That’s always been impressed upon me, that you have to be looking at them every day to see how they’re handling the training.”
Having built up an unparalleled system, the idea of retirement any time soon is surely a big-odds outsider. That’s almost as unappealing a prospect for the opposition as facing into the task of trying to beat 70-odd Mullins runners next week.
A night out with him is not a racing night. He can talk about anything ... He has a wide knowledge and he’s very good on other sports, particularly rugby. He’s also very good on history. He loves history
— Michael O’Donoghue
Recently retired trainer Michael Hourigan says the sport is almost unrecognisable from 30 years ago when he was ruling the roost with stars such as Dorans Pride and Beef Or Salmon. Much of that is due to the man he knew as a kid when riding a winner for Paddy Mullins 60 years ago. He can’t see why the relentless drive for success should start to slip in his former colleague’s case.
“It would be hard to stop when he’s so successful. It’s all running as a well-timed machine,” says Hourigan.
“He has great staff, honourable staff, fellahs that would die for him. That’s a great sign of a fellah. He’s very honourable himself. Paul Townend stood in the shadows for years and eventually fell into Ruby’s boots. David Casey is still there too. He doesn’t step outside his own yard looking for jockeys. If you’ve a fellah in the yard, you can have words with him tomorrow but not on the racecourse. It will reward you the next day,” he adds.
Reports of Mullins losing his cool are rare, although apparently it can be an impressive sight. Much more recognisable are cool diplomatic skills that have allowed him build up a list of hugely rich owners with the financial clout to buy the raw material on which everything relies.
“You couldn’t have a row with him. But you can get a sort of indifference. At the end of it all, though, he’d shrug the shoulders or hold the hands out like the police ‘OK, that’s your way – this is my way.’ And it’s forgotten. He never holds grudges,” explains his friend, the former Turf Club stipendiary steward, Michael O’Donoghue.
That capacity famously paid off when Ryanair boss Michael O’Leary removed 60 horses in a dispute over an increase in training fees. Mullins wished O’Leary well, filled the boxes with other eager owners and squashed talk of a decline by accelerating his success rate even more. In 2022, O’Leary sheepishly returned to the fold. Mullins contented himself by just saying – “We had a difference of opinion.”
Fighting your corner with Mullins on racing is a long shot at the best of times, but it’s also notable the ease with which he switches from professional to personal. Switching off includes a night out with friends at his local hostelry in Leighlinbridge. The old wooden jockeys board with his name on it, that used to be displayed at race meetings, hangs over his favourite table.
“He doesn’t talk much about horses when he goes out. There would be no big interrogation about what you’re running tomorrow, or last winner he had. A night out with him is not a racing night. He can talk about anything – the economy, politics, travel, different countries. He has a wide knowledge and he’s very good on other sports, particularly rugby. He’s also very good on history. He loves history,” O’Donoghue says.
Since Mullins is rewriting racing’s record books with every passing year, an appreciation for the historical context involved might spur him on even more.
