‘Succession’ Presented by Neuman Equine Insurance: Craig Bandoroff, Denali Stud

They say that life is what happens to us when we're busy making other plans. But even in a game where so much turns on chance, for better or worse, you can't just throw your hands up and leave it all to fate. After all, the countervailing dynamic to life on a horse farm is unchangingly cyclical: foaling, mating, breaking, prepping, to everything there is a season. Within those patterns, sure, we know to expect much unpredictability. But that's how horses teach us the long game, to be patient and wait until you can see the whole picture.

Few in our community knows all this better than Craig Bandoroff. His whole life has turned on fleeting episodes of good and bad luck, from the terrible spill that ended his career as a jockey to the serendipitous encounters at university-with a professor from another program, for instance, who reconciled him to a changed relationship with horses; and, above all, with his future wife-that ultimately adapted his gifts to the foundation of Denali Stud. At the same time, Bandoroff and his wife Holly have had many years to think about and plan for the transfer of responsibility for the business they built from scratch to their son Conrad.

As has quickly become apparent in this series, there's seldom a formal and specific moment of transition. But for the past couple of years Bandoroff has progressively backed into semi-retirement, with the combined benefit of expert counsel and his own reflection.

“I think the one thing I've learned in the process is that there's a reason a lot of successions don't work out,” he says. “And the reason is…because it's really hard to do! You need the right balance on both sides. The father has to be of the right mindset. And the son or daughter a) has to be capable; and b) has to be given the time to come into the position and become ready to take over. It's like a relay race. When you're starting out, the successor is the one waiting in the block. And eventually you get there and hand on the baton, and first they're one step away, then they're 10 steps away, and then they're gone.”

In the meantime, however, there's that critical moment when you might easily drop the baton and, to avoid that, for a few strides you both have to be flat out and in step.

“Exactly,” agrees Bandoroff. “Now we did hire a family consultant, to help us through it, and that was invaluable. But at the end of the day you have to do it your way because everybody's different, and every successor is different. So you just figure out the balance. But there are some real caveats. Really everybody says the same thing: at some point you have to give up the control, you can't hover over them. And the ones that don't make it are the fathers that didn't get out of the way, that just wouldn't vacate.”

Bandoroff didn't really have that problem, in that he was positively eager to gear down.

“What happened with me I've learned to be very common,” he says. “You just hit a wall. I was doing it all myself, there are a lot of moving parts, and you just reach the point where you say, 'Man, I'm not 40 anymore, I just can't keep going at the same pace.'”

Again, they were lucky in that Conrad had long manifested both desire and eligibility to take the legacy forward. Neither of those, of course, are ever guaranteed. Neither of Conrad's sisters had ever evinced any interest, instead discovering vocations that put the horse business in due perspective. One, for instance, is nursing at the prestigious Cincinnati Children's Hospital.

“Like I say: we sell horses, she saves lives,” Bandoroff says proudly. “And the other daughter works in government policy for an investment bank, really keeping track of the political stream. We joke that the girls obviously got the brains. But they didn't get the horse gene, and Conrad definitely did.”

And what if he hadn't?

“I guess then you just sell, you take the money and move on,” Bandoroff says with a shrug. “And, in all honesty, that's pretty much what I always expected to happen. But at a pretty early age Conrad showed that this was the direction he wanted to go. And after urging, pleading, begging him to do something else, once we made the commitment to him, it was, 'Okay, if you want to do this, then let's see if you can jump through all the hoops.”

Craig and Conrad Bandoroff | Keeneland

 

Over the years Bandoroff has seen plenty of people fail to meet this kind of challenge, and he put corresponding groundwork into the succession.

“I took it on with a sense that I had to do this right,” he says. “I was dealing with something that took Holly and me 30-plus years to build. That's a lot of sweat equity. And I'm dealing with my son. So we set out on a plan to give him the tools we thought he'd need to be successful. And he embraced everything we ever suggested.”

Both father and son acknowledge a huge debt to the Godolphin Flying Start program, which broadened Conrad's horizons so generously. Even those raised to the best standards at home can only benefit from seeing how other horsemen, in other environments, meet the universal challenges of the Thoroughbred. And Bandoroff, for his own part, not only consulted esteemed peers to borrow lessons learned in parallel situations; he even took a course at Harvard that included a module on succession and family business.

“Thirty years might not be nearly as long as some, but it's still a long time, especially when you've started from ground zero,” he says. “I think if you make the judgment that the successor is not capable, then you need a Plan B. But in our case I saw very clearly that the successor had all the tools. That doesn't mean it's easy. And of course you can think that, and then it doesn't happen. But in this case I feel it's happening. I see it.”

So how about those moments, in the transition, when there were the inevitable disagreements? You've renounced control, but this could be some question of strategy vital to the future of a business that involves everybody in the clan.

“Honestly, or maybe remarkably, Conrad and I have had very few lock-horn moments,” Bandoroff says. “But, yes, that's where you say to yourself, 'Look, I can't screw this up. Because if I do, not only am I screwing up the business that we built, but I'm screwing up my family.' I was never one to sit there and say, 'Oh gosh, look what I did and how wonderful it is.' But you want to keep this thing going. Which is harder: to build the business, or to keep it up there? And the answer is that both are hard. No question, whether it's Conrad or Walker Hancock or Bret Jones, they definitely had a big head start-but it's still really hard.”

The privileges of succession certainly come with commensurate burdens. The clients who lose their favorite mare, for instance: that call is now Conrad's to make.

“Yes it is!” Bandoroff exclaims with relief. “After a storm last year, we had a real bad call that had to be made. And I just sat there and said to myself, 'Well, I'm glad I don't have to pick up that phone.' I still have clients I'm closely involved with. But I've told Conrad, 'Look, you have to be the rainmaker now. I never enjoyed that part of it and I'm not going to do it anymore.' And he gets that. But that's where the pressure comes.

“Every once in a while there'll be something where you say to yourself, 'Hey, this is going to be a bumpy landing.' There was one time I could see from a distance it probably wasn't going to end well. But I made some big mistakes along the way, that cost me a lot, and I know that you don't forget those. The good news is that you're only ever a phone call away. There's going to be a day, hopefully quite a few years from now, where you're not. But at this stage I think we just try not to let the boat drift too far off course at any point. You're never going to let it crash, obviously. But in the end it's going to be harder for them to learn from mistakes, if you're not going to let them make any.”

All that said, when your life and your work have so long been conflated, you can't just sever yourself from decades of routine overnight. Bandoroff still starts every day with TDN, albeit nowadays a winter sanctuary in Bald Head Island, N.C., is embraced with a clearer conscience.

The Bandoroff men at Keeneland November | Keeneland

“At first, this word 'retirement' is out there like some panacea or some oasis in the desert,” he says. “And then you get there and, well, there's lots that's great, but you also realize how some of the stuff you're leaving behind is really important to you, too. So what makes handing off nice is that I had the opportunity to say, 'Look, I still do want to be involved in certain things and not in others.' I get to do what I want to do, when I want to do it; or what I have to do, when I have to do it. The good part is when the 'have to' is over, I go back to the 'want to' and that's the whole key. But as opposed to a CEO who retires from some company and it's over, I was able to do it on my terms. And that's working out great. That's still being able to go into the ring and buy a mare that could down the line maybe become a foundation type for us.”

Certainly Bandoroff is at pains to keep looking forward, and not to dwell on his own past, remarkable as it has been.

“Look, I think everybody knows the story about how my arm was paralyzed,” he says. “And yeah, there were a couple of years after that happened, it was a tough road and a long one. And thank God I had family to support me and help me get through it. And then by happenstance, at the University of Virginia I met this couple who had a farm and hunters and went out to visit them one day. And they said, 'Oh, come on, why don't you get on a horse?' And I did. That gene had gone dormant, but they got it reignited and then it all went in a different direction. And it's a crazy thing to say, but maybe it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Having glimpsed a path, he came to Kentucky for direction. His first mentor here was the “awesome” Fred Seitz; and then the man who was transforming the whole business, Lee Eaton. On top of that, it was transferring to college here that had enabled him to meet Holly.

“I always said that for me it was love at first sight, it just took her a little longer to be convinced,” he says with a grin. “If you don't like Holly, you don't like human beings. She's one of those angels without wings. But once we started our own operation, she had to learn the horse business or she was going to be a very lonely woman. Because it is all-consuming: not a lifestyle, but a life. So Holly embraced that, and became integral to everything that we were able to do. I can tell you, without Holly, there wouldn't have been a Denali Stud to hand off because I would just have just pissed somebody off and that would have been the end of it!”

Apart from anything else, of course, Holly has been a priceless pivot between her husband and son during this whole process of transition; and, moreover, she never let them forget that Conrad also has sisters.

“And rightly so,” Bandoroff says. “Conrad and I spend a lot of time together, do a lot of things together, but his sisters obviously have to be part of the equation. And we're very fortunate that the accountant that set it all up did so in such a way that everybody in the family was tied to the success of Denali Stud.”

One way or another, then, that split-second of disaster at Garden State Park in 1974 ultimately opened the door to a whole new life. Bandoroff impatiently dismisses pointless retrospection. What would have happened, had he renounced horses as intended when going to the University of Virginia? Or, before that, how far might he have gone as a jockey but for what happened?

“Who knows? Who cares, right?” he says with a shrug. “People said I had talent and, looking at the pictures, I look pretty good on a horse. Doesn't matter. Look, it's a good story and it turned out good.

“I'm not going to be arrogant and say we have pulled this off, but I will say that I couldn't be happier with where we are. Conrad has grown into the role as the leader of the company in every way I could hope. That gives me a sense of pride I can't really describe.”

That was enhanced by a note Bandoroff received from one of the great achievers of the global business, remarking that Conrad had clearly inherited his values.

“It's always been really important to me to raise horses in the manner that they have a chance to go on and be good horses,” he reflects. “And I think when people think of us, they associate us with quality. We've always wanted a person to walk up to that barn and say, 'I really like this horse-and these people have sold good horses before.'”

Bandoroff feels that our walk of life makes a rather better job of succession than most others.

“The statistics tell you that in the 'real' world a large percentage fail,” he says. “I think the success rate in our cottage population is very high. I think what makes it different, for us, is the land. There's something about both the land and the horse that's a little different from inheriting machines that push out widgets.

“One of the real joys now is that we can both be at the barn and, instead of somebody coming up to me, they go up to Conrad. Maybe for some people that would hurt their feelings. But, to me, it's the greatest feeling in the world. It took a long time to get to that spot.

“Conrad started with me eight years ago, which is honestly hard to believe. In many ways, he has the baton now and he's moving farther away on his own. I feel like he and Claire are the faces of Denali Stud now. It's their company. As I look out at the ocean, that's a wonderful thing to be able to say.”

The post ‘Succession’ Presented by Neuman Equine Insurance: Craig Bandoroff, Denali Stud appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

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How to Beat the Odds and Have a Successful Succession of Your Horse-Related Business

By John Wollenberg, JD, CPA, and Leonard C. Green, CPA, MBA

Editor's Note: Chris McGrath's popular TDN series “Succession” about horse racing-industry businesses passed from one generation to the next sparked this column by Len Green and John Wollenberg.

The odds are frightening that only 50% of family businesses that are successful are passed to the second generation.

Only 10% are successfully passed on to the third generation.

There are many reasons for this and volumes of material have been written on this subject.

But few provide you with the answers on how to successfully do it.

We are going to give you a strategy and business plan to succeed.

 

We will start by listing:

  1. The challenges
  2. The strategies
  3. Some of the best tools
  4. Tax considerations

 

CHALLENGES

 

Structuring a succession plan should evaluate:

  1. The current owner's desire to retain control during his or her lifetime and the willingness to transfer interests now or wait until death.
  2. Weighing the importance of an income stream if transfers are made now.
  3. The skills and qualifications of the next generation.
  4. Family dynamics and relationships.
  5. Equalizing asset transfers to family members who will not be participating in the business.
  6. The welfare of employees and preserving the goodwill that has been built up.
  7. A plan to meet the new demands of the business.

 

STRATEGIES

 

Discussions and implementation should facilitate:

  1. Assemble a team of both inside and outside experienced people who have expertise in your business and the industry.
  2. Compose a business plan with objectives.
  3. Provide alternative structures and possibilities for discussion purposes.
  4. Hire an appraiser to perform a valuation.
  5. Evaluate liquidity needs, including life insurance.
  6. Discuss a buy/sell agreement with a professional.

 

CONTENTS OF THE PLAN

 

Benefits of a written plan would include:

  1. Provide a blueprint to resolve differences and reach a consensus.
  2. Establish transitional timetables, including gifting of interests.
  3. Put in restrictions which could substantiate valuation discounts for minority interests, lack of control and limited marketability.

 

ESTATE TAX DEFERRAL

In order to alleviate liquidity problems, an attractive provision is available to offer relief from the necessity of a “distress sale” of a business solely to pay estate taxes. By spreading out the period for payment of the liability, the estate tax could be paid from future earnings, enabling the beneficiaries more time to raise funds to pay the estate tax, thereby “keeping the business in the family.” This 14-year elective deferral is available if the decedent owns an interest in a closely held business that exceeds 35% of the adjusted gross estate. The Green Group can work with you to determine whether your estate would be eligible.

For more information, contact Len Green at The Green Group at 732-634-5100.

The post How to Beat the Odds and Have a Successful Succession of Your Horse-Related Business appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

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‘Succession’ Presented By Neuman Equine Insurance: De Meric Sales

“It's a really difficult thing, to let go of something that you've spent your whole life building,” acknowledges Nick de Meric. “I don't know if 'letting go' is quite the right way to put it. But to actually cut that umbilical cord, it's a leap of faith.”

The Ocala horseman, who reflected on a colorful past in yesterday's TDN, now turns his attention to the future. For the evolution of a successor program, parallel to his own, makes the de Meric family a particularly pertinent case study for our series on how horse people handle the challenges of dynastic transition.

And, really, Nick couldn't have used a more apposite analogy. The “umbilical cord” to which he refers, of course, is the one extending four decades to the foundation of the pinhooking and pre-training business he operates with his wife Jaqui. Albeit not by much, it even predates the advent of their son Tristan and daughter Ali. But while that literally umbilical connection between parents and their children is never truly severed, the handover of a family business requires long habits of filial duty and parental authority to be gently renounced. And that's a process that demands imagination, flexibility, generosity.

As so often in these situations, Nick and Jaqui first had to establish whether, through nature or nurture, they had passed on a sense of vocation around horses-not to mention the accompanying skills.

“The guys I grew up with in the business, they're mostly around my age,” Nick remarks. “Some have kids who are looking like they're ready to assume the mantle; others don't. And when you've devoted your whole career to building a business, it's gratifying to have someone who can carry the torch forward for you, rather than just having to end it.”

Brandon and Ali Rice | Photos by Z

Ali married another who was born to the game, in Brandon Rice, and in 2009 they started their own program very much in the same manner as Nick and Jaqui around 25 years previously. They scraped together enough for a couple of cheap yearlings, notably a $7,000 colt who made $200,000 at OBS the following April before going on to become a graded stakes winner. Building on that remarkable start, Ricehorse Stables has proceeded to become a respected presence on the national sales scene.

Tristan and his wife Val, meanwhile, have become integral to the home operation, while maintaining a degree of independence that has evidently worked well on both sides. That they, too, know what they are about is evident from the fact that they and prepared subsequent champion juvenile Corniche (Quality Road) to make $1.5 million at OBS.

But perhaps an even bigger turning point, for Tristan and Val, had come when Gabriel Dixon put back on the market a 60-acre tract he had previously bought from Nick and Jaqui, with access to their Eclipse Training Center complex.

“Tris and Val were looking for something to invest in, so they jumped at that chance,” Nick explains. “And since then two more barns have been built, which they're able to lease out and so make the real estate itself turn into a good investment.”

(Again, this has strong echoes of Nick and Jaqui's own story: we saw yesterday how they once paid off their own mortgage in much the same way.)

“So their business runs adjacent and parallel to mine,” Nick explains. “They use our racetrack. We pinhook together, but they also do plenty independently and so do I. And I hope that eventually this way of doing things will make for a fairly seamless transition.”

So was this incremental model a deliberate strategy, or did it just evolve organically?

“I would say a little bit of both,” says Nick. “In life generally, but particularly in our business, we all know that the best-laid plans can go sideways in a heartbeat. So I would not so much say that it was my plan, but that it was my hope. Because while you can't project anything in cast-iron, at the same time you at least need some drift and direction.”

With both their children, Nick and Jaqui imparted their horse lore more by osmosis than by formal instruction.

“Ali was always obsessed,” Nick recalls. “If I left for the barn in the morning without taking her, and I'm talking like 5:30, she would have a meltdown. She used to come with me to the Keeneland 2-Year-Old Sale, I'd let her out of school for a few days. And later she worked sales in Korea, Europe, all over the States.

“Tris was always more of a homebody, and not so much engaged in the horses as a kid: it was baseball, dirt bikes, boy stuff. So when he did decide that this really was his thing, it surprised us how much he had absorbed, just from being around us, from conversations at the dinner table and that kind of thing.

“Certainly he didn't come round to it through any pressure from us. This business is tough on a good day, and I would never press anybody to enter it unless they're passionate. But ever since then, he's taken it and run with it.”

Evidence of Tristan's inherited flair emerged during what are perhaps the two most critical weeks for all these programs, in scouting the September Sale at Keeneland.

Tristan de Meric | Photos by Z

“We all know how that's as much an exercise in logistics and stamina as in horsemanship,” Nick says. “You've just got to keep plugging on, and Tris was right there doing a very good job. And from early on I found, more and more, that I could absolutely rely on his eye. I could send him ahead to do this or that barn, and we could compare notes later. I was always super impressed with how analytical and critical an eye he had for horses, at such a young age. Some things you can teach, some you can't, and he just had that knack.”

And that trust has become the foundation of their teamwork ever since.

“It's a totally subjective thing,” Nick stresses. “It's about judgment, intuition, instinct. So you don't always agree on everything. But he not only could pick athletes, but also had a very good fix on the economics of what we do. Picking the right horse is not always the hardest part. Actually, getting them brought at a price you can make sense of, that's a big part of the equation too. And knowing what you can and can't live with, in terms of vetting and conformation. He's done incredibly well with all of that, way beyond anything I can take credit for.”

So much for the innate skills. In terms of structuring their professional responsibilities, however, the together-but- separate model appeals as one that other families might usefully emulate.

“On a normal training day at home, when we're just doing our thing in the winter, we're right next to each other,” Nick explains. “I'm usually on a pony, and Tris is right there, either on a pony himself or in the viewing stand with Valerie. So we're actually talking all the time. We're watching each other's horses.

We help each other out, whenever we can, or need to. But those over there are his horses, his riders; and these over here are my horses, my riders.

Tristan, Nick and Jaqui | Christie DeBernardis

“We have clients in common, a lot of friends in common. But they have a following all of their own, which to their credit they have acquired quite independently of Jaqui and me. Conversely, most of my clients are now very familiar with them, and understand that we overlap a lot in our businesses. During a sale, they know they can talk to any of us and get all the information they may need.”

Nick is absolutely not going to pretend that it has been plain sailing all the way. At the best of times, it's never easy for one generation to know when and how much rein should be permitted to the next; and that's harder yet when the decision-making doesn't just affect personal development but the prosperity (or otherwise) of the whole family.

“I don't know if 'baggage' is quite the right word, but there's all the history that led you to this point,” Nick agrees. “As they say, the child is father of the man. So for someone in my position, who with his wife and partner has been making all the decisions, for better or worse-financial decisions, training decisions, client decisions-there comes a point when I have to say, 'Okay, you're in charge, it's your baby; I'm taking a sabbatical, I'm stepping back.' So far I've been easing back, but not pulling back.

“Sometimes you will see things a little differently. And that's where you have to learn to bite your lip and say, 'Okay, I might have done it this way instead-but I understand where he's coming from, let it go.' But most of us in this business, almost by definition, are control freaks to some extent. Because we have to be on top of everything. So that's a transition, too.”

That, however, is a price he considers well worth paying in order to see a life's work taken forward by his own flesh and blood. He cites friends whose children have no interest in doing that, and who will just have to call in a realtor someday.

“Neither Jacqui or I have any interest whatsoever in cashing in our chips and moving to a gated community,” Nick admits. “We are farm people. We have more dogs, cats, peacocks, goats, chickens, cows than you could count. Same for all the pets buried in the woods behind the house. We'd never move off the farm unless we absolutely had to. Behind every rock and tree, there's some little memory. And we're always going to ride, as long as we're physically capable.

“But that doesn't mean we have to keep going hammer and tongs. We've had so little time to really enjoy the farm for what it is. Just to get up in the morning, take a stretch, tack up our horse and just go wandering around. We've always been pedaling the bike.

“And we can see Tris and Val are doing a great job. It's great what they have done, working independently of me and alongside me. I can see the buyers are completely comfortable interacting with them. And that's allowing me to take a little step back. Maybe not quite as fast as Jaqui wants me to, but I'm working on that! I do worry, for both our kids and their families, about the collective legacy we're handing them in this sport. But I couldn't be prouder of what they have accomplished.”

The post ‘Succession’ Presented By Neuman Equine Insurance: De Meric Sales appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

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‘Succession’: A New TDN Series – Walker Hancock of Claiborne

In our walk of life, nothing succeeds like succession.

As with any other form of agriculture, a horse farm is not just a business but a legacy sometimes shaped by several generations of rain-or-shine toil and kitchen-table lore. The balance sheet may happen to be in the black, or in the red–but that's just a moment in time. How does one put a price on the decades of patient nurture that have gone into land and bloodlines?

Yet there's never any guarantee about the next generation, whether in terms of its enthusiasm or eligibility. And, even if both those are present, there are bound to be sensitivities over the timing and structuring of transition. In this new, occasional series, TDN will visit with people who have experienced such challenges: whether those who hand over a life's work, or those charged with taking it forward; sometimes, we'll hear from both.

No better place to start than with Walker Hancock, whose accession as president at storied Claiborne Farm at just 25 was, in this context, just about as conspicuous a transfer of responsibility as you'll ever see. Incredible as it must seem, both to Walker himself and to those originally startled by his precocious promotion, this year he will already complete his first decade at the helm. His father Seth has been duly rewarded for that bold vote of confidence, then, the farm now being in hands still full of youthful vigor and ambition, while far more seasoned than could generally be expected in one of Walker's age.

To a degree, of course, the gamble was emboldened by the fact that Seth had been even younger when himself appointed president. At the same time, whatever the similarities, the single factor that most sets their respective situations apart could not be more crucial. For Seth was only elevated so giddily because of the abrupt and premature death of his own father, “Bull” Hancock, such a towering figure in the Bluegrass that people far beyond Claiborne felt that they, too, had in some measure suddenly lost a patriarchal influence. (There was also the incidental drama of Seth's older brother, Arthur, quitting to achieve his own, epic vindication down the road at Stone Farm–and we'll be calling on Arthur and his daughter Lynn later in this series.)

So while Seth had to find his feet in the throes of bereavement, not to mention fireworks between his brother and the powerful advisers presiding over the transition, Walker remains blessed to be able to turn to his father for counsel.

“Dad had a trial by fire, literally had to figure it out on his own,” he says. “So after he gave me the reins, it was comforting to know that he's still in the background, and that I can always run things by him. I can say, 'Well, I'm not quite sure what to do here,' or 'I can't figure out a mating for this mare, what do you think?' So that's been a luxury for me. He never had that. It definitely takes a little pressure off, makes things a little more comforting, at least when you start out.”

That said, just about the first thing Seth was able to do was syndicate a horse called Secretariat.

“So he got things figured out pretty quickly,” Walker says with a smile. “Because he had to! I certainly didn't make that kind of a splash. But maybe one day…”

The common denominator in all these situations is how a relationship based on parental authority, through years of upbringing, can evolve so that a son or daughter, if only in a professional dimension, has the confidence to say: “Sorry sir, sorry ma'am–but I'm the boss now.”

The Hancock Family at Keeneland | Keeneland Photo

“We've always got along for the most part, but like anybody, we're going to disagree on some things,” Walker says. “Thankfully, they've been few and far between. When you work with your father, you're younger and sometimes you'll see things differently, which is fine. But I give him credit: especially in the last few years, he's really kind of said, 'You're in charge. If that's what you want to do, go ahead.'”

Walker suspects that his father had taken note of equivalent handovers faltering precisely because of inflexibility in the older generation. And that's certainly a delicate challenge, whenever a filial relationship extends into business. As from any parent, growing up you receive instruction and discipline–but suddenly they have to back off and leave you, if necessary, to learn by mistakes.

“I think it was hard for me to understand that, at first,” Walker says. “It was like, 'All right, whatever he says, I'm going to do.' Because that's what I've done my whole life. But then there comes a time where you have to say to yourself, 'Well, you're in charge now. You're going to have to stand up to him at some point, if you feel something isn't going right.' But it feels very successful, because we have still managed to maintain that father-son relationship.”

There were bumps on the road, for sure: the little test cases. It sounds as though the opening of a visitor center at Claiborne may have been a case in point.

“It was kind of a big deal for us, in terms of commercializing a brand that has always been pretty close-knit,” Walker acknowledges. “I just felt like that was really what we needed to do at the time, and my sister [Allison] and I had a plan to make it happen. But whenever Dad and I have gotten a little sideways with one another, at the end of the day I think he can appreciate that I'm just trying to do the best I can, and move the farm forward, and that sometimes it might be a little more progressive or at least different from the way he'd do it.”

And, in fairness, Walker stresses that his father always showed due sensitivity to the unique pressures of succession–right back to when he was a kid. It was made perfectly clear that Walker and Allison could chart their own course in life, according to whatever preferences evolved as they grew up. Allison, indeed, never made quite the same connection with horses, albeit remains part of the family operation, heading up the visitor center and merchandising.

“Again, I give credit to my dad: he let me find my way,” Walker says. “At an early age he told me, 'If this is something you don't want to do, don't feel any pressure. You don't have to do this. We can sell the farm, whatever. Because if you don't have a passion, there's no sense doing it. If you don't really, truly love it, you're not going to be successful.' And actually because he didn't pressure me, I think that's one of the reasons I gravitated towards it. If he'd been waking me up at five every morning,  saying, 'Get to that barn, you got to clean stalls!' I probably would have resented that, or maybe got burned out.”

As it was, Walker was able gradually to absorb the enchantment of the Thoroughbred from the environment in which he was growing up.

“At the farm, I started at the bottom,” he recalls. “Weeding double fence rows, whatever. At the time we still did a lot of hay and straw, put it in the barns for a couple of summers. I really did work my way up and can now really appreciate the hard work that so many people have to put in. And at least they all know that I did it at one point, as well, so it's like, 'Well, if he did it, I can do it.'”

By high school, Walker had recognized that he was not going to make a baseball professional–the single menace he ever admitted to his Claiborne destiny. But even once his heart was set on the family business, his parents made sure he went away to college so that he could encounter people from other walks of life, and sample the kind of Main Street existence he'd be turning down. So he went to the University of Florida, majoring in Animal Sciences.

“The idea was that I needed to go away, do something else for four years and figure life out for myself,” Walker explains. “And honestly it was the best thing I ever did. I was able to grow up, make new friends and connections, learn how to deal with uncomfortable positions. You can get stuck in this bubble here in Central Kentucky: you're so used to horses being a part of your life, going to Keeneland in the fall and the spring. And now here were all these people that, if they'd heard of the Kentucky Derby, wanted to know why a horse couldn't run in it twice! So it was really good to be exposed to a different culture.”

So while ever grateful for being raised at Claiborne, Walker could become his own person and develop his own perspectives. In the same way, since taking over, he has had to put his own stamp on things while on keeping aboard clients whose own families have a generational relationship with the farm. There literally came a day, for instance, when “Mr. Phipps” told him: “Walker, you need to call me Dinny now!”

“It's just another part of the transition,” Walker says with a shrug. “You're no longer the little kid they saw at the races. You develop more of a client relationship. That was definitely challenging. Thankfully, we have a lot of outstanding clients that have been with us for a long time. But at some point we need to start bringing in some younger people, too–and that's another challenge, finding the right kind of people to keep the farm special while also moving forward.”

Bernie Sams and Walker Hancock | Fasig-Tipton Photo

Walker feels blessed, in embracing these challenges, by a priceless rapport with Bernie Sams, whose official title as Stallion Seasons and Bloodstock Manager is barely adequate for the deep knowledge and down-to-earth style that guaranteed continuity to all parties: Seth, Walker, the clientele.

“He's been unbelievable, awesome,” Walker says. “We've traveled the world together. He's taught me so much and pretty much been a mentor to me. It certainly gave me a little more confidence to have someone like Bernie around, that's been with Claiborne for 20-plus years and understands so well what we do.”

He feels similarly indebted to farm manager Bradley Purcell, and also to his aunt, Dell Hancock.

“Aunt Dell has also been a tremendous supporter of mine throughout the transition process,” Walker stresses. “She's always there to cheer me up after a bad result in the sales ring or racetrack. Her positivity has helped me persevere through some low times, and I can always count on her to lift me back up and find the bright side of every scenario.

“As for Bradley, he's so professional and level-headed that I couldn't do the job without him.  I never have to worry about the day-to-day operations, thanks to his knowledge of horses and understanding of the Claiborne brand. I can be away from the farm and know that everything will continue to run smoothly, which is very comforting.”

But if some faces and practices stay the same, in other ways even a farm as symbolic as Claiborne must adapt to a changing market. It was striking, for instance, that as many as 171 mares were granted a date with rookie Silver State in 2022. Following the defeat of the proposed 140-mare cap, farms like this one must decide where to strike a balance: should they protect their clients from the inundation of catalogues, the clear risk at more industrial operations? Or should they seek the accountancy advantages of a bigger book, whether in writing a check for a stallion or hiring him out at a milder fee?

“Ideally, we'd only breed our stallions to 120 to 140 mares,” Walker says. “But if a bigger book is how we stay competitive in the marketplace, then that's what we'll have to do. It's right by the horse, because you have to give them a chance to succeed. It's right by the clients that support him, and the syndicate members that own shares. I mean, it's probably not what we want. But the market's changing, and while I wish we could be stubborn and stick to our old ways, we'd get left behind.

“And I feel like we've found a good balance. We're never going to do over 200, or anything like that, but we probably have to beef our numbers up from what we were doing at 120, 130. It's hard to syndicate a horse if the shareholders know that money will be left on the table because you're not breeding as many mares as they'd get investing in another stallion. So, yeah, it's a changing environment and a difficult one. But I'm sure people had a fit when stallions went from 40 mares to 60, and again when they went to 100. The reality is that we have to keep up, or get left behind.”

Walker has not enjoyed missing out on potential new stars for the roster because rival offers were predicated on huge books of mares.

“You get beat so many times,” he says. “And it's like, 'Well, do we just keep doing this in the expectation of a different result?' But that's just not going to happen. So you're better off figuring out ways to change things up a little bit and stay competitive. In today's world it's hard to maintain your traditions and your values, with the market forcing your hand. But I do feel like there's a balance and hopefully we have found it.”

As things stand, the roster is headed by a venerable stallion in the sunset of his career, War Front. But Walker and his team are certainly sticking to their principles with their younger guns: they have gone back to the Danzig mine for Silver State, for instance, besides two of War Front's own sons, War of Will and now Annapolis. The unusual versatility of War of Will on the racetrack, meanwhile, is underpinned by the kind of deep pedigree that has always been a Claiborne hallmark. In other words, even as Demarchelier (GB) opens lines the other way, this is still a farm that can transcend the Atlantic divide.

War Front | Sarah Andrew

“We have a lot of unproven young stallions right now,” Walker says. “We're out there to find the next War Front, a horse that can keep carrying the water for us. Again, it's about trying to find a balance. Because it also makes things difficult that people want to sell these horses right after they win their first Grade I. To me, in the long run, that's a losing proposition.”

So some old principles will stand. Claiborne will continue to seek wholesome genetic models for replication. But the farm will continue to adapt, too. After all, that's just what Bull Hancock did in his day.

“And I'm sure dad did things differently than my grandfather, likewise,” Walker remarks. “When my grandfather died, it was in his will that we had to sell everything. Well, after 10 or 12 years my dad felt, 'You know what? This isn't the way we need to do things.' And Swale came out of the first crop where he kept horses.

“It would be awesome if we could just run Claiborne the same way as we did in 1948. But the fact is that the industry has changed, even in the last five years; sometimes it feels like it changes almost from year to year. And you have to be willing to respond. For the old timers, I think they'd say the industry has gone too far by them. Dad is probably glad that I'm in charge now.

“I'm a fifth-generation horseman, fourth generation to run the farm. You don't want to let any of your forefathers, grandfathers, fathers down by dropping the ball. So you definitely feel that pressure. Keeping places like this going, through families, is not easy. Hopefully my kids are interested, and their kids too. But with the times changing so rapidly, who knows what the future looks like? All we can do is live in the present, and try to do our best.”

The post ‘Succession’: A New TDN Series – Walker Hancock of Claiborne appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

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