Taylor worked in Saratoga one summer for pioneer Lee Eaton and as early as 1978, dipped a toe in the same water. A seven-year first batch at Keeneland including a first deposit winner — since then 126 Tier I winners have been raised or sold, including 10 in the year alone. last.
“It was a natural extension of what we did: lots of customers that you came to to sell,” says Taylor. “And I thought, if Lee Eaton can sell a horse for $100,000 and make $5,000, that’s how much I can ride for a whole year. At the time, people were charging a commission for RNA. They may hate me, but the first thing I say is, ‘Damn, you can’t bring a guy’s horse in there and run it through the sale, and it sells for $200,000, and you want 10,000. dollars when he doesn’t even sell his horse!’ So we need a minimum commission; and then if we sell, we get paid. Of course our customers loved it, and now everyone does. “
Success, however, brings its own set of challenges. Taylor remembers customers queuing up for sales, wanting to talk about stocks, discussing action on their horses. But he did seek some expert advice, and was told that Taylor Made – meanwhile had also launched a stallion campaign, starting with Unbridled’s appearance (or return to be exact) But in 1997 – developed in isolated “vaults”. The solution they came up with was to assign Master Advisors to different clients, maintaining continuity across the board. Taylor commented: “From problem to opportunity. “Every customer now has their opinion. And that’s what allows us to continue to grow, while keeping that familial, familial feeling. ”
Even with such a mandate, the brothers maintain a conspicuous presence in front of the house: if the helpers wear a tie and are loose, so does their boss. “We wanted them to share in the loving spirit of the family,” Taylor said. “We are not on any pedestal, we are there next to them working. And the fact that we’re not just one business owner but five of us coached by the same owner, united so that when I win, Frank wins, Ben wins, Mark wins and Pat wins: all of them we win together.
“It’s all about the innate core values that have helped us, whether in terms of size or how we hold our dominant position. We’re always looking for ways to be better, internally and externally, not because it’s some grand strategic plan but because it’s our nature to wonder how we can do it. better “.
He suggests the first of the three key values is honesty. “It’s not that I’ve never lied in my life, but if I did, I feel like crap; beat myself up forever,” he said. “And then we want to take care of the client and their horses and each other like family. And the rest is always looking for a better way, so just because we’re doing something now doesn’t mean we’re going to do it two or three years from now. “
Photo Fasig-Tipton
But while Taylor Made will certainly continue to absorb his enthusiasm as it faces the future, doing the same is up to the broader industry. For Taylor, it is heartbreaking by the bigotry that our sport has against the kind of adventure that has long maintained its own business.
“I have a lot of ideas,” he said, sounding rather exasperated. “I don’t know if they’re any good, but I’ve told all the executives I can and there’s something about this business, people just don’t seem to use the common sense. often.”
His opening premise is simple: the purse goes up as the handle goes up, and that’s clearly the key to doing the best you can for horse owners. But so many racetracks have become so obsessed with being casinos that the core product is neglected and poorly delivered.
“Let’s say we’re in the ice cream business,” he said. “It’s like we have a liquorice ice cream stand and say, ‘If you don’t like our licorice, we don’t want you to be a customer. We won’t give you cherries, oranges, grapes, we won’t give you the flavors everyone loves. We are only here to sell our licorice, go elsewhere. ‘”
Any newbie trying to follow is bewildered. “It’s like you need to learn Chinese or Russian to play the game, and it’s going to take you too long to learn it,” Taylor complained.
Although he is not a gambler himself, and is therefore incapable of designing his own alternatives, he is appalled that the staking product has remained essentially unchanged for a century. . “No bets for those who just want to bet and have fun,” he said. “They are not interested in learning how to accept. Like playing a slot machine versus playing at a craps table: one is wisdom; remaining. ‘Let’s bet and have a little fun.’
“And I will tell you the problem of not focusing on the customer. In 1890, Dan Taylor was born. That’s my grandfather. Everyone has a horse, everyone loves riding, that’s the culture he grew up in. In 1924, Joe Taylor, my dad was born: the car was just invented, but Joe rode to school, and you went to the Hawthorne Derby in Chicago and there were 100,000 people watching. People are still part of that horse culture. In 56, Duncan Taylor was born. And it’s all about the damn car. Out of the 100 kids in my class at Lexington Catholic, about four love going out on the track. After 30 years, and my son Marshall was born. And the kids in his class know as much about a giraffe as they know a horse. When the usefulness of the horse was reduced, as a mode of transport and an agricultural tool, so we lost our competitive edge.”
Taylor reveals the complacency he had over the years when horseback riding was the only gambling game in town. “We were like kids at the same table, mom always brought him food, never made him work,” he said. “And he turned into a big fat kid who didn’t know what to do and couldn’t get a job anywhere. With the exclusivity we have, we get lazy and get fat, we have a terrible culture and never think about the customer.”
After all, who is that customer? Not the owner of the horse. “Because he’s like a sportsman, providing talent,” reasoned Taylor. “He is Wilt Chamberlain, he is performing. Customers are racers who are betting on the owner’s horse. Yet we look down on him as if he were a tramp and an idiot, we don’t value him at all. And no business can treat customers like second-class citizens and last very long.”
Taylor said he suspects that some people really don’t want to expand the sport’s reach: that they don’t want to build our industry on Mount Everest, but just be happy to be. king of anthill track. But he looks around the game and sees people of extraordinary wealth and influence, capable of reinventing betting technologies and selflessly racing.
“I still think we have a great product,” emphasized Taylor. “That’s the thing, we have something very special. How much better to be around these beautiful horses, with a really nice atmosphere, than sitting pulling a lever in some fancy casino with the lights on and off. ”
According to Taylor, the person who has done the most to spread the word in our lives is Michael Behrens of MyRacehorse. “The 60,000 people he’s signed up with now have a reason to try and ‘learn Russian,'” he said. “A percentage of those 60,000 people will become millionaires, even billionaires. Who knows? One of them could be the next John Magnier.”
A New Generation: Brooks Taylor, Logan Payne, Marshall Taylor, Katie Taylor, Joe Taylor, Alex Payne | Photos of Laurel Donnell
Or even the next Duncan Taylor. Happily, for Taylor Made and for our industry, he’s not going anywhere. He will remain in the office every day, mentoring his brother Mark in the role he has abandoned, and everyone else on the team; and he will never stop yearning, both for the name of a business and the viability of its trading environment.
“We’re not perfect at Taylor Made, by all means,” he said. “I’m sitting here now, retired from being CEO, but I’ve been thinking a lot about how we can improve. You know, I’m not the greatest horseman. I’m not the greatest businessman. I’m not really the greatest. But I have a characteristic in me that I just need to really try, no matter what I do, I have to focus and keep working. I think that’s really my gift to the company: I always pay attention to it and always try to remember the big picture.”
But what’s really important, he insists, remains the same as what the brothers sought to live up to Father Joe’s example: doing things the right way, doing things together, sharing a sense of family made by Taylor create.
“There are so many people who have worked with me over the years — customers, team members, suppliers, family — who have been part of Taylor Made’s success,” he said. “I am grateful to each and every one of them. The person I owe the most is Carol, my beautiful wife. She is a lot like my mother, always putting our family first. She raised five beautiful children, and that’s worth more than anything I’ve done.”
As a new cycle unfolds in this remarkable dynastic saga, the appropriate final word is delivered by Taylor’s brother and successor as CEO. Mark Taylor recalls how important influence John Gaines was on their father, honoring Daddy Joe not only as a complete horseman, but as “an agronomist, builder, geneticist , caretaker, nutritionist, salesman, businessman, operator, promoter, accountant, planter, midwife, trader, diplomat and handyman. ” Joe, Gaines said, “was really a man all season but anyone who knew him understood that his real business was helping people.”
It’s stereotypical, and Mark feels that’s exactly how his brother presided over Daddy Joe’s legacy. “In many ways, Duncan is all of this and more to our family, our team members, our customers and their horses,” he said. “Our plan is to free him from many of his previous duties as CEO, while tapping into his drive for customer service and innovation towards the next chapter. follow us.”
