Robert Kitson - Exe Men: The Extraordinary Rise of Exeter Chiefs

EXE MEN

A beautifully-written, amusing and insightful book that gets to the very heart of Exeter Chiefs a rugby club with one of the most remarkable stories in British sport. Exe Men is the best rugby book Ive read in years

Donald McRae, twice winner of the William Hill Sports Book of the Year

Forensic, funny, captivating, a story told with relish as well as insight

Mick Cleary, The Telegraph

No Exeter fan should be without this book, nor any sports fan who loves a fairy tale grounded in professionalism. Splendid stuff

Stuart Barnes, The Times

Exeter Chiefs the community club that grew into a European giant. This is how they did it. A quite brilliant combination of great story and great storyteller

Tom English, BBC Sport

Beautifully told, this is a rare insight into the remarkable rise of the Chiefs, from their homespun roots to the pinnacle of European rugby surely one of the most heart-warming tales in all of British sport

Alastair Eykyn, BT Sport

Punchy and penetrative, Robert Kitson has done justice to one of sports greatest stories. If you dont already love Exeter, you will now

Alan Pearey, Rugby World

So much more than a rugby book and full of genuinely funny anecdotes, this is a read for anyone interested in building a winning team

Chris Bentley, Express and Echo, Exeter

First published in 2020 by

POLARIS PUBLISHING LTD

c/o Aberdein Considine

2nd Floor, Elder House

Multrees Walk

Edinburgh

EH1 3DX

www.polarispublishing.com

Distributed by

ARENA SPORT

An imprint of Birlinn Limited

Text copyright Robert Kitson, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-913538-01-9

eBook ISBN: 978-1-913538-02-6

The right of Robert Kitson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

The views expressed in this book do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions or policies of Polaris Publishing Ltd (Company No. SC401508) (Polaris), nor those of any persons, organisations or commercial partners connected with the same (Connected Persons). Any opinions, advice, statements, services, offers, or other information or content expressed by third parties are not those of Polaris or any Connected Persons but those of the third parties. For the avoidance of doubt, neither Polaris nor any Connected Persons assume any responsibility or duty of care whether contractual, delictual or on any other basis towards any person in respect of any such matter and accept no liability for any loss or damage caused by any such matter in this book.

Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and obtain their permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library.

Designed and typeset by Polaris Publishing, Edinburgh

Printed in Great Britain by Clays, St Ives

For Fiona, Alex, Louisa and Greg.

And for Dad, who would have loved the Chiefs.

The roots run deep, in this rocky red ground

And I could feel that pull, every road I went down

Growing Up Around Here, Will Hoge

I begin to think there is something in the air of Devonshire

that grows clever fellows. I could name four or five, superior

to the product of any other county of England.

Thomas Gainsborough, 17271788

PROLOGUE

The thwack of deflated rubber on damp tarmac is unmistakable. Oh no. Not now. Not tonight. At least there is space to pull over on a steep terraced street in Bristol but the bigger picture is a concern. Barring a laptop malfunction on deadline imagine Edvard Munchs The Scream with a set of posts in the background being late for an important game is every sportswriters recurring dread.

What to do? Hidden in the recesses of the boot is one of those strange-looking space-saver tyres. There should be time later to replace the punctured original with this temporary, slim-fit alternative. Right now, though, the only option is to run the final mile and a half to the Memorial Ground, as people of a certain vintage still call it. Shouldering my heavy laptop bag, I set off down the hill, alternating between a stiff jog and a hobble. Its a glamorous life, working in the media, until the ticking of the clock drowns out all else.

Luckily there is one seat left for a sweat-soaked, dishevelled latecomer in the tightly packed press box. Immediately to my right are some unfamiliar faces. A second glance suggests they are the visiting sides coaching staff. This is no time, though, for idle chat. If Exeter Chiefs can defeat Bristol in this Championship play-off final second leg they already hold a 96 lead from the first leg and win promotion to English rugbys top tier it will be the greatest achievement in the clubs 139-year history.

It also means that, by accident, the Telegraphs Rob Wildman otherwise known as Borneo and this correspondent have the best seats in the house. Thrashing away at my keyboard, praying for a readable first-edition piece to emerge, it strikes me how unnaturally calm the Exeter contingent seem. For the most part there is no great shouting or arm-waving. It is almost as if everything on the field is pre-programmed. When the head coach speaks which is seldom he is composed, precise and appears at least three phases ahead of the play. Out on the field his team look similarly well drilled. Where are the supposed nerve-riddled underdogs? With the weather worsening there is only one winner long before Simon Alcotts last-minute try caps a 2910 victory on the night. The Chiefs are going up.

On-the-whistle filing, sadly, allows scant time for leisurely reflection. There is the aggregate scoreline to get right, for a start, plus the small print the teams, scorers, attendance etc. and the headline facts. If Guardian readers want poetry they will have to find another newspaper. With a flurry of breathless adjectives safely sent, the next job is to squeeze out of the press box in the main stand and scuttle around the clubhouse to the distant media Portakabin where the post-match press conferences will be happening. If ever there was a night for gushing Were over the moon, Brian quotes, this is surely it.

Except they never come. The same tall, strong-jawed head coach who has largely kept his counsel during the game aside from the occasional clench-fisted celebration towards the end now speaks at length, without a trace of hyperbole, about his belief that this is just the start. This hasnt just happened overnight, he tells the anorak of reporters clustered around him. Weve been planning this for years. After he leaves, his audience are briefly silent. Blimey, says someone eventually, that Rob Baxters impressive, isnt he?

The slow crawl home offers an opportunity to mull over a few more things. The Kitson household has always looked west with affection. My father was raised in the Quantock Hills outside Taunton, his father lived and farmed on Dartmoor and there are strong Devon links on both sides of the family. Dads job as a land agent took him away to rural Hampshire but almost every family holiday involved a pilgrimage back down the A303 or A30. His timeless local sporting heroes Harold Gimblett, Arthur Wellard and Bertie Buse were similarly embedded in our consciousness, the County Ground in Taunton a spiritual home from home.