Heartbreaking moment: Willie Mullins breaks down in tears as he says goodbye to four legendary racehorses after their owners chose to put them up for auction
In the rolling green hills of County Carlow, Ireland, where the air carries the faint scent of hay and the distant thunder of galloping hooves, a scene unfolded on September 18, 2025, that left even the hardest hearts in horse racing shattered. Willie Mullins, the 69-year-old titan of National Hunt racing, stood in the auction ring at Goffs, his trademark tweed cap slightly askew, as tears streamed down his weathered face. The occasion? A forced farewell to four equine legends—Hurricane Fly, Vautour, Quevega, and Faugheen—that had defined his extraordinary career. Their owners, citing financial pressures and the relentless march of time, had made the agonizing decision to consign them to the sales block. For Mullins, it was like burying a piece of his soul.
The auction house buzzed with the usual mix of sharp-suited buyers, eager grooms, and industry insiders, but an unusual hush fell as the first lot entered the ring: Hurricane Fly, the diminutive gray gelding who had stormed to two Champion Hurdle victories at Cheltenham in 2011 and 2013. At 19 years old, his coat still gleamed with a silver sheen, but his eyes held the quiet wisdom of a champion who had faced down giants like Zarkandar and Binocular. Mullins, who had nurtured Hurricane Fly from a quirky novice to a equine icon, approached the barriers with trembling hands. “This one’s my heart,” he whispered to a nearby reporter, his voice cracking like dry timber. As the bidding climbed to €450,000—snapped up by a syndicate led by a Middle Eastern investor—Mullins turned away, shoulders heaving. He buried his face in his scarf, sobs echoing softly amid the auctioneer’s staccato calls.
It was a moment that encapsulated the fragility beneath the glamour of jump racing. Mullins, with 113 Cheltenham Festival winners to his name and a record 10 triumphs at the 2025 edition just months earlier, has long been the unassailable king of the sport. His Closutton yard, a sprawling empire of stables and gallops, houses over 200 horses and employs dozens of dedicated souls. Yet, as he later confided in a raw post-auction interview with RTE Sport, these four weren’t just runners; they were family. “They carried me through the dark days, the injuries, the doubts,” Mullins said, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Hurricane Fly taught me patience; Vautour, sheer power. Saying goodbye feels like losing four old friends at once.”
The backstory to this dispersal sale is as poignant as the scene itself. The horses’ owners, a consortium including long-time supporter Rich Ricci and the late Michael O’Leary’s Ryanair-backed group, had grappled with mounting costs. Post-Brexit feed prices, veterinary bills inflated by global shortages, and the economic ripple effects of the 2024 equine flu outbreak had strained even deep pockets. “It’s not about the money for us,” Ricci explained in a statement released that morning. “These horses have given us everything—Cheltenham roars, Grand National dreams. But at their age, retirement demands security, and the auction ensures they’ll go to buyers who cherish them.” Vautour, the bold bay who claimed the 2014 JLT Novices’ Chase and 2016 Ryanair Chase before a career-ending fall, fetched €520,000 to a U.S. breeding operation in Kentucky. Quevega, the iron mare with six straight Mares’ Hurdle wins from 2009 to 2014, drew €380,000 from a French dressage enthusiast. And Faugheen, the “Machine” who bulldozed rivals in the 2015 Champion Bumper and Hurdle, commanded €410,000, heading to a retirement paddock in New Zealand.
Mullins’ emotional collapse rippled through the racing world like a shockwave. Social media lit up with tributes: “Willie’s tears are ours,” posted jockey Ruby Walsh, who partnered many of these stars to glory. Patrick Mullins, Willie’s son and the 2025 Grand National-winning rider aboard Nick Rockett, arrived mid-auction to wrap his father in a bear hug. “Dad built this sport on their backs,” Patrick said, his own voice thick. “It’s a reminder that even legends fade, but the stories endure.” Fellow trainer Gordon Elliott, Mullins’ fiercest rival, sent a bouquet of wildflowers to Closutton with a note: “Strength, Willie. They’ve made us all richer.”
Beyond the tears, this moment underscores a broader truth in horse racing: the delicate balance between passion and pragmatism. These horses weren’t mere athletes; they were architects of Mullins’ legacy. Hurricane Fly’s unyielding grit inspired a generation of trainers to chase the impossible. Vautour’s explosive leaps redefined chasing prowess, while Quevega’s dominance in mares’ races paved the way for gender parity on the track. Faugheen’s relentless drive mirrored Mullins’ own—unstoppable until fate intervened. Their departures evoke memories of Dawn Run, the mare trained by Mullins’ father Paddy, who in 1986 became the first horse to win both the Champion Hurdle and Gold Cup. “History rhymes,” Mullins reflected later, over a quiet pint in the local pub. “But it doesn’t make the hurt any less.”
As the sun dipped below the Irish horizon, casting long shadows over the auction grounds, Mullins lingered by the empty stalls. A young groom handed him a bridle from Hurricane Fly’s final race, and for a fleeting second, a smile cracked through the grief. “They’ll run free now,” he murmured. “And that’s the best send-off.” The racing calendar marches on—Punchestown looms, with Mullins already plotting his next assault on Cheltenham records. But on this heartbreaking evening, the sport paused to honor not just the man, but the unbreakable bond between trainer and thoroughbred. In a world of fleeting victories, some goodbyes etch themselves into eternity.
