I don’t want to limit my golfing to the East Coast, so in 2002 I bought a course along two miles of the Pacific Ocean. What was formerly known as Ocean Trails in Palos Verdes will now be known as Trump National Golf Club, Los Angeles. The course had fallen into disrepair under its previous owners—the eighteenth hole fell into the ocean—so I’m rebuilding it with legendary golf course architect Pete Dye. We’re also planning to build luxury estate homes on the property. When completed, this course will be the best in California.
Dave Anderson, Joe Kernen, me, and Ron Howard at the opening of Trump National Golf Club in Briarcliff Manor, New York.
When we announced the deal, the Los Angeles Times reported, As he has so many times before, Trump has spotted a trend to tap. True, but mostly I was following my instincts and my interests.
Building golf courses is not a big business for me and it’s unlikely that I will ever do another one. I want only the best.
Sometimes I will sell memberships while I am hitting balls on the practice range. People approach me and hand me checks. One recent day at my Florida course, a group of four wealthy friends came to me with checks of $300,000 each. I said to myself:Not bad; I’m playing a game I love and going home with $1,200,000 in my pocket.
I realize that some of you don’t care much about golf. Golf is one of those things that has aficionados, just as opera has diehard fans who will fly around the world to catch a certain performance. To people who don’t know or like opera, that seems absurd.
I can’t make you love golf, but, believe me, once you’ve had the opportunity to play on a beautiful course, it could turn you into an enormous fan, or even a passionate player, no matter how poorly you hit the ball.
If anyone had told me twenty years ago that I’d become a dedicated golf course developer, I would have sent them out of the room for being ridiculous. But golf has a transforming power. It’s a brain game. Yes, there is skill and technique involved, but, just as important, it requires concentration and assessment.
It’s a great way to improve your business skills, to learn how to maneuver. It can even be equated with learning how to negotiate, which is an art in itself.
Golf is also, in essence, a solitary game. Being an entrepreneur, even within a large company, is a solitary game.
Ultimately, the rule here is not just to visit one of my golf courses (though you would be wise to do so) but to turn your passion into profit. The results of that passion will reward you in more ways than you ever could have expected.
Passion is enthusiasm on a big scale. It is all-encompassing and consuming. People with passion never give up because they’ll never have a reason to give up, no matter what their circumstances may be. It’s an intangible momentum that can make you indomitable.
Take out the passion and you will have a fizzle or, perhaps, an okay product at best. Add the passion and you will be in a rarefied realm that every other passionista will recognize—and one that every person would like to enter.
A friend of mine is a member of what I call the lucky sperm club—born into a wealthy family. He followed his father to Wall Street, but he was a total failure. He didn’t like it, and he couldn’t do it. Meanwhile, he became increasingly involved in his Connecticut country club. He was named the head of the greens committee and took on the lead role in rebuilding the golf course. He loved it and was great at it. The club held a dinner for him out of gratitude for his volunteer work. I asked him, Why don’t you do this for a living? You’re not for Wall Street. You’re getting eaten alive there. He told me his family wouldn’t understand if he quit a serious job to work on golf courses.
Well, two years later he took my advice, quit the Wall Street job, and is now working full-time at renovating golf courses. He says he loves getting up in the morning, and he is doing better than ever.
Of course, you don’t have to learn how to play golf to have a satisfying career. But no matter what you do, you must be passionate about it.
There’s no place like home.
Brand Yourself and Toot Your Horn
I was originally going to call Trump Tower by another name—Tiffany Tower, for the famous jewelry store next door. I asked a friend, Do you think it should be Trump Tower or Tiffany Tower? He said, When you change your name to Tiffany, call it Tiffany Tower.
We’ve all seen the power of a brand name, especially quality brand names. Coco Chanel became world-famous eighty years ago by naming her first perfume Chanel No. 5, and it’s still going strong in a fiercely competitive market. Her fragrance, as well as her name, has become timeless. She proved that the right ingredients can create a legend.
Trump has become a great brand name, due to my rigorous standards of design and quality. We all admire Rolls-Royce cars, and I see every one of my ventures as being just that elite. Being a stickler has paid off, because my buildings are considered to be the finest in the world. That may sound like bragging, but it’s also a fact. I’ve never been one to confuse facts with fiction. In 2003,Chicago Tribune real estate columnist Mary Umberger attributed the sales for Trump International Hotel and Tower in Chicago to The Trump Factor. Umberger reported: The sales velocity surprises even experienced real-estate players, who told me at the sales inaugural that they doubted Trump would gain enough momentum because Chicago’s luxury market was—and is—in a lull.
Some people have written that I’m boastful, but they’re missing the point. I believe in what I say, and I deliver the goods. If you’re devoting your life to creating a body of work, and you believe in what you do, and what you do is excellent, you’d better damn well tell people you think so. Subtlety and modesty are appropriate for nuns and therapists, but if you’re in business, you’d better learn to speak up and announce your significant accomplishments to the world—nobody else will.
When I’m setting the price for a luxury apartment, I consider a lot of factors—the market, the location, and the competition. Then I set my own standards. Once, when some top-of-the-line apartments weren’t selling, I upped the prices, way over the competition. They started selling immediately.
I view my work as an art form and approach it with the same intensity and ego as any ambitious artist would. I never planned on becoming a brand name, but the fit of my aesthetic nature with each product I became involved with has resulted in an expanding network of interests. The success of the Trump name worldwide has been a surprise.
It’s been a good surprise. For example, using my name on a building carries with it a promise of the highest quality available and at least a $5-million price tag. That’s just for the name, because it will be worth it to the developers, and they know it. That building will be up to my standards. When I remember the line from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet —What’s in a name?—I have to laugh. What’s in a name can be far more than either the Bard or I ever could have imagined.
We’ve all noticed the ascendancy of brand names and the power they have, from Levi’s to Louis Vuitton. Some people are against this widespread branding, seeing it as another form of labeling. I see it as a viable outlet for creativity.
If you’re on the brink of success in your career, some snob might ask you dismissively, You don’t want to become a brand name, do you? Anyone who asks you that does not have the big picture in focus—and they are usually just envious.
I can get a project off the ground in no time now, whereas an unknown developer would require many months, if not years, to get something going. The number of people I employ to get a project finished reaches into the thousands, and those people would not have a building to work on without a developer to give them a job. Commerce and art cannot function independently—they must work together. That is the beauty of a successful brand name.
Читать дальше