Every player was a hero in pulsating extravaganza
NOTHING has ever come easy for Exeter Chiefs in their 149 years, so only the most optimistic of Chiefs fans -watching remotely in their homes or Covid-regulated bars -would have anticipated anything other than a stomach-churning nail biter at Ashton Gate yesterday. And that's what we duly witnessed.
In fact what transpired was one of the best European finals in its 25 year history. Yes, error strewn at times and occasionally erratic and random but also a pulsating, engrossing contest full of wonderful skills, monstrous hits and dramatic twists.
This contest above almost all others deserved a beery, colourful 80,000 crowd going delirious with excitement, but instead it was played out to the echoing sound of solitary voices in the stands while even BT Sport, for whatever reason, decided to cut the ambient noise and cheering they normally feed into our Premiership games.
Given all that you can only praise every single player from both sides who took the field yesterday. Somehow they conspired to serve up a high octane rip snorter. Heaven knows where they conjured up the physical intensity and inspiration amid the morgue like stadium but they did and frankly we are in awe of them.
It was moving, and instructive, seeing many Exeter players immediately reach for their smart phones on the touchline after the final whistle, desperate for some face time with loved ones and friends. They badly wanted that nod of approval and human contact, that sense of sharing, that makes all these things worthw while.
Most sports stars dislike the presumption that they must also be role models, though most try their best, but it's games like this when they achieve just that. Such professionalism, endurance and passion in the most difficult of circumstances. That's not a bad message to be preaching in this of all years.
Exeter were joyous afterwards – Rob Baxter lighting up the place with a big smile after a fraught early evening when for the first time anybody can remember he looked sick with nerves and tension. If the coolest man in the Premiership was feeling it imagine how his players felt.
You could criticise the otherwise brilliant Luke Cowan- Dickie for fluffing three of his first four lineout throws or you could just acknowledge that's what big Cup Finals do to you. Nobody is immune.
It certainly affected Racing who started in a wildly erratic and profligate fashion with the normally reliable Teddy Irabaren all over the place. In no time at all they found themselves 14 points down but Racing are a very particular team, those who follow them knew there would be a reaction.
They play like millionaires at the roulette table, not because most of them probably are, but because it's in the DNA of the club based on the Parisian sporting elite of the late 19th century. They like to compete, and win, in style and with panache and perform with a whiff of danger and have always acknowledged that such an approach can backfire. Not that it bothers them, they press on regardless.
“For the first time anybody can remember Rob Baxter looked sick with nerves”
The Parisian dandies don't drink champagne at half-time anymore or wear pink bow ties but they still wear their hearts on their sleeves.
Racing rarely retreat into their shell, instead they invoke the spirit of the greatest French cyclist in history, Bernard Hinault. Asked what he did when he was exhausted, feeling faint with fatigue and hunger and suffering like a dog he replied: “Attack, always attack.”
Ditto Racing. Staring down the barrel yesterday they got even more outrageous and for long periods it seemed like that daring approach might win the day. That's what made for such a fantastic final.
It's difficult to fault such an approach, but I will anyway. Getting the balance right is still important. One point down in the middle of a barnstorming 19-phase attack on the Exeter line with about six minutes to go it was surely worth Finn Russell dropping back into the pocket for the routine drop-goal? There were three points on offer which would have made Exeter need to score again to win the Cup. Put the pressure on.
As for the Chiefs, what more is there to say. They are the modern day success story of English rugby who to a certain extent embarrass the RFU because there could or even should be more clubs like Exeter who have risen steadily from a lowly station. They are living, breathing testament to the vast potential of English rugby but also a reminder of a system that often manages to strangle and thwart most of that potential.
The essence of their success is patience and consistency. They didn't roar up the leagues with the introduction of professionalism in 1995 when they found themselves in National Four. It's been a long steady plod.
They didn't make it to National One until 2000 and they spent ten years in England's second tier building the base of the pyramid, a process which included the important move to their purpose built Sandy Park ground in 2006, which was in massive contrast to the increasingly shambolic County Ground back in the city centre.
The head coach Pete Drewett had done a pretty decent job since joining in 2006 with two runners-up spots and a fourth place – and remember winning promotion meant getting better than the likes of Northampton, Quins, Leeds and Bristol as they came down from the Premiership.
Drewett had clocked the coaching potential of Rob Baxter at Exeter University and appointed him forwards coach; he had signed inspirational Irish skipper Tommy Hayes, points machine and cult figure Gareth Steenson and built a squad including the likes of Matt Jess, Tom Johnson, Chris Budgen, Neil Clarke and others. It was basically going in the right direction but not quickly enough and in 2009 Rowe turned to Baxter.
It was an inspired choice, Baxter was the man for the final push. And some. He had skippered them to a National Three title in 1996 and now, yesterday, he has coached them to the European Champions Cup. Where will it all end?
