Willie Mullins
Mullin its over
Though grateful for the bounties that have come his way, the future is always more alluring than the past to the Irish and British champion trainer
Words: Daragh Ó Conchúir • Photos: Caroline Norris
Any time you have a health scare is a fright. You don’t take for granted that you’re going to come out the other side of it. It makes you respect life, maybe what you eat and drink more… is it the fecklessness of youth? (Chuckles) You certainly have a lot more respect... yes.”
Willie Mullins is smiling ruefully, maybe a little cheekily too. He still likes to celebrate the good times and there have been a lot of those. So, he hasn’t sworn off ALL of life’s luxuries. That he hasn’t become bored or desensitised by metronomic achievement is noteworthy and laudable. It means, of course, that there is no slacking off. He wants more. Better. Bad news for everyone else.
He enjoys the social element of racing. Conversing over a cup of tea or a beverage with a little more bite. And when there is something to get really excited about, that might just entail the odd late night.
Events that fit that description last season include crossing the 100-winner landmark at Cheltenham to reach 103 and counting; landing the Cheltenham Gold Cup (Galopin Des Champs) and Champion Hurdle (State Man), as well as the Grand National at Aintree (I Am Maximus), the Scottish National (Macdermott) and the Bet365 Cup (Minella Cocooner), to become the first Irishman and Irish-based trainer since Vincent O’Brien 70 years previously to be British champion trainer; securing an 18th Irish championship; breaking Dermot Weld’s all-time Irish record of winners to bring his lifetime number to north of 4,450 by the end of November; setting a new world record tally of 39 Grade 1s in a season to take him to a career total of 392 elite triumphs, prior to Punchestown’s Morgiana/John Durkan weekend and including Wicklow Brave’s Irish St Leger success in 2016 – all started by Tourist Attraction and Mark Dwyer in the Supreme Novices’ Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1995.
There have been a few late nights.
A heart bypass five years ago may have prompted a little more circumspection but it will not turn William Peter Mullins into a hermit. He is off sugar ten days when he plays host to the Irish Racing Yearbook, taking in a brisk constitutional around the facilities that is part of his routine before dishing up a spot of lasagne and apple tart.
That is a lifestyle choice. The only thing he has been banned from indulging in is salt. The sweet tooth can absolutely be pandered to. He might often have six or seven bars hidden around the house, out of the clutches of his wife Jackie and son, Patrick.
“It always amazes me how much people grow when you give them the responsibility and make the job their own, and they make the job even bigger and better”
There are none now, however. Or so he says. But the dinner and dessert are the finest, heated in the Stanley range that was bought on the day Patrick was born, 35 years ago on December 5, and was fired up for the first time when Jackie brought him home.
It was the summer of 2019 when James McCarthy put him under the scalpel. He was a few months shy of 63. For many, it would have been the signal to slow down, pass the reins over to the young lad, who had served a long apprenticeship.
It’s not the way he is wired though. Just as when Michael O’Leary removed 60 horses from the yard in 2016, when Gordon Elliott was about 24 hours away from becoming champion trainer the following April, he came out swinging.
His only concession to the health scare was to adopt the 3Ds advice proffered by one of his owners, Noel O’Callaghan, of Alexander Banquet fame – Decide, Delegate and Disappear. And that has proven beneficial personally and professionally. In the last four seasons he has recorded increasing totals of 182, 213, 237 and 257 winners for a cumulative yield of around €25.5m in prizemoney.
Relentless.
Past glories, even those in the very recent past, are less alluring than the future, however. Particularly in the early part of a campaign when established stars, and potential ones, are back from their holidays.
“We felt it was extraordinary as we were going through (the year),” he says of his annus mirabilis. “We thought we had a good team, but we never dreamt that we would have the sort of success we had. It surprised and delighted us.
“I try to treat everyone the same. The smaller owner with a horse, if his horse is good enough and Paul wants to ride it, Paul will ride, because Paul wants to ride the winner”
“But then the season is over and you start from scratch again. Rather than looking back, we’re always looking forward. This year, next year, the year after. See what you have coming through the ranks.
“It’s like any sports club and that’s what we are. We’re an industry but we’re a sports club as well. The money that we have spent on that gallop alone,” he says, pointing. “The sand gallop, the other gallops. But every year, you look at our pitch and for us that’s the gallop and you look at the maintenance that has to be done by September 1. It’s a huge investment for any trainer because you are hoping to get a couple of years out of the surface.”
The stellar events of the previous six months have been covered in about 30 seconds and though we return to them, at this remove, there is little he hasn’t said about them now. Far more interesting is his shift of emphasis to the persistent ambition and growth, ever since telling the IHRB inspector a white lie about the number of horses he had to get a licence to train in 1988. He was shy of the six required. There are 200 in Closutton on the day of my visit, before the season has gotten into gear properly. There are countless more in pre-training around the land.
He is the bar and his deep gallop is now copied and pasted in more and more yards on both sides of the Irish Sea. It is an amazing journey, given he had nothing when he started. Tom and Tony were exposed to the same upbringing he was, as sons of Paddy and Maureen and have had successful careers as trainers. But they have not been at their older brother’s level. No one has. They, and their generation, came through at the same environment, with the same racing programme.
While he will not talk directly about the HRI announcement that 60 pre-existing races were being ringfenced for every other trainer bar himself, Elliott, Henry de Bromhead and Gavin Cromwell, he is clearly irked by what he sees as a punishment, and seems to want to make the point about what went into the creation of the business and what goes into maintaining it. The new barns being built is just another step. Standing still is going backwards in the high performance world.
The phone rings. It is the first of many over three hours. There are various little matters broached with him on our walk, a chicane that needs fixing, paving that needs to be replaced, travel arrangements for horses racing in France. Many are trifling, some more pressing. One or two prompt a little more animation than others. All are dealt with on the spot.
These are the bits and pieces that go into the day-to-day running of a huge operation employing close on 100 people around the Carlow-Kilkenny region. Ali said it best.
“The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses – behind the lines, in the gym and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.”
It is almost seven years since Dick O’Sullivan listed his principles of leadership for this fascinated inquisitor tasked by The Irish Field with finding out how the cheerful Kerry man had managed to turn Punchestown Racecourse from a basket case in threat of liquidation, to a booming theatre of dreams.
He had no idea about racing but the former vet had proven his managerial chops by leaving his Department of Agriculture job aged 45, to oversee Kerry Co-Op’s operation in Mexico. He had later taken his philosophy to Brazil and was 65 when answering an SOS to help rescue Punchestown. That code of management is as follows:
1. Mission: “That means where I am now, where I want to be. In other words, what’s the ambition?”
2. Strategy: “What’s the plan to get there? And a strategy is mostly looking at what strengths have you and what weaknesses. Now leave the strengths alone and work on the weaknesses. Try and take them out, and the strengths will handle themselves.”
3. Structure: “Most guys in business that are badly run have nothing at the top, or maybe nothing at the bottom. They don’t have a clue what’s going on. There’s no structure. They don’t know who the boss is often.”
4. Capability: “The people you have must have some capability. Now, they don’t have to be geniuses but they must have some capability.”
5. Clarity: “There’s nothing worse than guys in a business trying to do a job and they’re not clear of what is wanted of them. That’s a desperate important thing in any business.”
6. Take responsibility: “Don’t say it’s someone else’s fault. Rubbish. You will make mistakes if you’re any good. The guy that never makes a mistake, never does anything.”
It is a manual Mullins could have written himself. The mission changed when making do wasn’t cutting it. He and Jackie decided to strive for the moon, thinking the stars would be fine. Who knew that they would discover new planets? But there was also the danger that they would crash and burn. There was no guarantee, no back-up plan. No safety net. But they knew, to blast off, they would need the raw material.
So the strategy was to attract wealthy patrons. They would have to source them, seek them out, persuade them that this would be a fun way to spend some of their money. It was all well and good being able to train but neither Jesus Christ nor Harry Houdini could get a slow handicapper to win a Gold Cup. The horses in the stables were the weakness, the ability to train the strength. The limiting factors were removed. Hey presto.
The structure of the operation is very clear and the capability of the team is unquestioned. Speaking on ITV, Megan Nicholls argued that from what she had gleaned from visiting Closutton, they had built the best of everything, staff included. This, remember, is the daughter of Ditcheat leviathan, Paul Nicholls, a man with no intention of throwing in the towel and spending as much, if not more than Mullins at public auction on horses.
Willie, Jackie and Patrick are at the top of tree and then you have David Casey, Ruby Walsh, Paul Townend, Dick Dowling, Danny Mullins, Jody Townend, Rachel Robbins, David Porter, Virginie Bascop, Harold Kirk, Pierre Boulard, Rich Ricci. The list goes on and on.
There is definite clarity. Everyone knows their job within the conglomerate, with a number of separate entities, run as such, but coming together to form an irresistible force.
And clearly, they enjoy working for him. Success helps but Mullins doesn’t do scapegoating. For sure, they must own their actions, but for all that he gives his staff ownership, allows them to do things a little differently even than he might and seeks every little bit of information and opinion they have to offer, the buck stops with the gaffer.
Walsh has always said that the man who has been his boss since 1996 – there is a photo in the porch of Mullins beating the then seven-pound claimer in a bumper that year- and is now a close friend, needs a deadline to make a decision. And that he doesn’t go in for regrets if it goes wrong. There is no blame game. It is on him.
As O’Sullivan himself put it, you empower people, let them grow and assume responsibility. Steve Kerr, Michael Jordan’s teammate at the all-conquering Chicago Bulls where he won five rings, coach of the USA Olympic team that won gold in Paris and more impressively of the Golden State Warriors that have ascended the NBA mountain four times, described it similarly. “80% of coaching is relationships, 20% is the Xs and Os.”
With Mullins, those relationships are everything, from staff, to jockeys and to owners. Pat Doyle is a legend of the point-to-point world, producing future champions for many trainers, Mullins included. He broke dual Champion Hurdle hero Monksfield half a century ago, pre-trained Aintree Grand National winner Minnehoma and then, via his pointing operation, educated countless Grade 1 and Cheltenham winners, Bob Olinger, Appreciate It, First Lieutenant, Shattered Love, Colreevy, Readin Tommy Wrong, Bacardys, Commander Of Fleet, Champ Kiely and Brindisi Breeze in their midst.
He has no doubt what moved Mullins to stratospheric levels.
“Willie Mullins is one of the greatest men of all times to deal with people,” he told me once. “And he’s so knowledgeable. He can sit down and talk to a rugby crowd, golf crowd. I sat with him the other day and he was explaining so much to me about the trotters in France, the headgear they were wearing, the shoes they were wearing.
“Willie Mullins can talk about every subject. If he wanted to talk about opera I’m sure he could because he’s a very intelligent man.”
Dealing with people is key, at all levels. None of the past year, the past five years, the past ten, would have happened were he not able to connect on a human level, to sell a vision and a dream.

Taking the wraps off the statue of dual Cheltenham Gold Cup hero Al Boum Photo, commissioned and presented by grateful owners, Marie and Joe Donnelly

Executive Management: with wife Jackie and son Patrick, after Patrick had provided his father with the landmark 100th Cheltenham Festival triumph on the Munir/Souede gelding Jasmin De Vaux in the Champion Bumper
Yes, the man can train racehorses. But as we know from the calibre of horseman and woman in this country and beyond, it’s not just about that, is it?
Al Boum Photo is back. No, not in the flesh but immortalised in statue in the yard, just across from Galopin Des Champs’ stable. The inanimate form of the horse that gave Mullins his first Gold Cup success in 2019, after 31 years with a licence, and followed up the following season, is a present from his grateful owners, Marie and Joe Donnelly.
Galopin Des Champs has emulated his former stablemate now with a two-in-a-row. The target is to go one better. Emulate Best Mate and Arkle. There are many top-flight challengers to the Audrey Turley-owned son of Timos, who only turns nine in 2025. Some of them are working alongside him, representing other patrons, such as JP McManus and Cheveley Park Stud.
That way with people must be tested most supremely when he is moving the chess pieces around the proverbial board, sometimes choosing a lesser target over a headline one, or else pitching a handful of his charges against one another. How to prevent jealousy setting in, or the notion that another owner is getting preferential treatment?
If his management skills would be appreciated at his beloved Man United, his diplomacy wouldn’t go astray dealing with Ukraine and Gaza. He plays it down, of course. Yet it is showcased when he is asked to pick his favourite horse. That gets a swerve Gary Ringrose would be proud of. Ricci was the one that really moved the dial though. Of that, there is no doubt.
“Different things propel you a little bit more. Tourist Attraction, obviously, Wither Or Which (ridden by the trainer to win the Champion Bumper in ’96), and then buying Archie O’Leary Florida Pearl. All those things happened very quickly and they’ve propelled us up another notch all the time. And then, I suppose, meeting Rich Ricci, which is, I think, huge, because Rich had the ambition to have some really good horses.
“Myself and Rich got on like a house of fire and he loved the Irish angle of jump racing. And that propelled us huge. Now, it built up slowly. It wasn’t that he came in one day and said, ‘Willie, I want 20 horses,’ or anything like that. But every year we acquired a few more. And every year the extra ones, one or two we got, there was always a good one in it, and the thing grew.
“And of course, Rich is such a personality, that was a huge part of it, TV interviews and what not. He brought a bit of fun to the game… and I’m sure that in itself for jump racing too was a big plus.”
The way he tells it, there is never a bother with owners about choosing targets.
“I think the horses usually pick their own races, rather than me and the owners. I think a lot of jump owners are very pragmatic. They know the way the game works. We’re in it to try and maximise the winning potential of every horse. And obviously they’re all going to meet at some stage, but sometimes during the year, they have to take each other on as well.
“And you know, sometimes the choice of jockey might be… everyone wants to maybe have Paul all the time. But the way it works for us, is lots of our second and third choice jockeys win Grade 1s. I think Danny had a huge amount of Grade 1s last year. Everyone gets a sprinkle of Grade 1s, and they all go out with an equal chance. And you never know what happens in a race.”
The owners know that if they are in the race, they are considered to have at least the semblance of a chance, that it will not always be the market selection that prevails.
“I try to treat everyone the same. The smaller owner with a horse, if his horse is good enough and Paul wants to ride it, Paul will ride, because Paul wants to ride the winner. I always felt that’s the way to treat people, that everyone gets treated the same.”
That’s why Michael O’Leary had to go. There would be no special deals.
Once you have the means, then it is about the calibre of the sourcing. Lots of money is spent every year on horses that don’t reach the levels commensurate with their price tags. Renowned British producer, Tom Lacey remarked to me that Kirk is incredibly on the ball in terms of talent spotting, but beyond that, business is conducted swiftly, with no messing. There is no prevarication.
“People say, ‘What’s Willie Mullins doing, that allows him to get all these best horses?’”, Lacey noted for the Trainer magazine earlier this year.
“If you’ve got a good horse and you genuinely believe it’s a graded horse, if you ring Harold Kirk and say, ‘Harold, I’ve got one for you,’ he will say, ‘What do you want for it?’ You’ll name your price and he will say, ‘I’ll have it.’
“That is what Willie Mullins does differently. He doesn’t say, ‘I’ll come back to you in a week’s time.’ The vet’s there within the week and they just get the business done. They do not sit on the fence and allow horses to be sold from underneath them. That is one of the things he does that no one else does. They are so straightforward.”
It’s about having the necessary firepower with which to go to war. Kirk and Boulard are the main buyers but the network is wide and the cast involved numerous.
“The first time I went to France, I didn’t know anyone except Pierre, and I only knew him because he worked for my father. I met him the time of Dawn Run, and then he came over to Doninga and worked there. When I was looking for a horse, I just happened to have his phone number and rang him up. He’d come back from the East. He was either in Hong Kong or Macau or somewhere, and he was setting up as bloodstock agent. And the two of us grew from there. Then Harold came on board. So it just evolved.”
There is no specific Willie Mullins type.
“If you can hopefully get a nice, sound horse. We buy them in all shapes, sizes and colours. If you can just pick out the one that goes faster than the others. That’s the favourite thing.” And then there’s the team. He never liked the idea of an assistant but after his illness, accepted that he could not continue to be hands-on in every aspect of the business himself. He was fortunate that most of the individuals were already there. Patrick was already an executive officer but the support network was there too. So he gave them more to do and as the stats illustrate, they got better.
“It always amazes me how much people grow when you give them the responsibility and they make the job their own, and make the job even bigger and better. You know, that’s been as much fun, watching people coming here, either for the summer or just working as an ordinary rider around the place, and then growing into being a barn manager, a yard manager, assistants. Just running with it and working it. It’s good. Maybe sometimes not doing it a way I would have done it, but once the winners keep going, I’m happy.”
It is not just horses that inhabit Closutton. Munch is a tiny Chihuahua that covers far more mileage on the gallops than the horses through a week. Hattie, a powerful Rottweiler obsessed with stones, retrieving one from a little nook under a seat, in much the same way the human sitting on it might dig out a bar from one of his little cubby holes when the urge strikes. Hettie is very patient with Munch and despite their size differential, play is good-humoured. Jeff is an elderly cock, moved indoors after losing the power struggle outside. He isn’t very patient at all. And from what I hear, not always good-humoured either.
They all contribute to a bustling, happy, hub of activity and accomplishment. They can’t prevent the anxiety setting in at the start of each new campaign, however.
“Horses are coming in and maybe carrying an injury from the year before, and the first or second gallop, next thing, ‘Bang,’ and even before they get that far. And then the likes of Facile Vega (who suffered a fatal injury in his stable in July), you know?
“I used to get my flu vac in September, October, and then by the end of October, I’d be flat. And I was blaming the flu vac for years. And so one year, I said, ‘I’m not going to take it anymore.’ and I was still flat in October, and I reckon it was just… job-related stress is what you call it nowadays!
“All these beautiful horses going around… they get little injuries and knocks, and some of them are out for a year. Others out for six months, three months, which in our game, can be the whole season. I hadn’t realised how much I was taking stress. To me, it was just part of it. “I take my flu vac every year now! And the pneumonia vac.”
All bases covered.

Memories of Mother
Racing followers are still getting used to not seeing Maureen Mullins around, so we can only imagine what it is like for her family. She died on St Valentine’s Day, aged 94. Needless to say, she was at the forefront of her son’s thoughts as he experienced the most extraordinary run of success.
“She was fantastic to go racing with, and always ready at the drop of a hat to go racing or go look at horses or just to go anywhere. She loved looking forward to stuff. She was always great company to have in the car. Would know seed, breed and generation of everyone, as most mothers do.
“That love of the horse was at the core of it. She was a farmer’s daughter. Loved land, loved country life. You could be looking at a farm with her, or something like that. I’d be looking at maybe whether it could be a nice gallop, or what sort of grass, and she’d be over counting bales, seeing how many acres were in each field. Everything was a number with her. How much could you earn out of this? That’s just the way her mind worked.”
She once told a story about taking Willie to a career guidance guru, who suggested that architecture might be suited to such a detail driven individual. He had it banished from his mind before he left the office.
“She was hoping I might be good at something,” he says with a grin. No worries there then.
The shift in the balance of power from Britain to Ireland
“I remember when Ireland didn’t have any winners at Cheltenham, or they had one winner or two winners. The first one we had, I thought, ‘If I never, ever come back here again and have another winner, at least I’ve had one winner.’ And that’s the way Irish trainers thought at the time. You didn’t ever think you were going to come back and win another one. All the good horses were in England. All the good owners were in England.
“Nowadays, we have HRI, which was preceded by the IHA, which was preceded by the Racing Board, and when IHA took over from the Racing Board and HRI was formed, they formed a programme which is the envy of England now, because they’ve seen the benefits of that programme, that the whole thing has turned 180 degrees.
“We probably have most of the best horses, and we certainly have a huge amount of the best owners, which were never in Ireland before. We have tremendous prizemoney. And I think that programme should be held onto and cherished.
“I think a lot of people nowadays in racing don’t remember what it was like when any good horse that was produced in Ireland was just sold abroad. I remember riding beautiful bumper horses for my father thinking, ‘Wow, these could be great chasers and hurdlers,’ and next thing, they were gone out of the yard because Irish owners simply couldn’t afford to race them. Plus the fact that there wasn’t good enough prizemoney to keep them unless you were very wealthy, and we just hadn’t those people in Ireland. But now we have both.
“So I think people should be very careful when they start messing with a programme. When you do little tweaks, you don’t realise the consequences there might be somewhere else. That’s a great legacy that Brian Kavanagh and Jason Morris gave to Irish racing and we should cherish it. “We have such a diverse group of owners. It’s different people winning. That’s the one thing I love about jump racing in Ireland. There is such a broad spectrum of owners. It’s not just one big owner dominating a yard and you can see that in our yard. You can see it in Gordon’s and Gavin’s. That’s great.”