Payback Time

In an alternate reality I could have been a Harlequins fan.

Let’s face it, I only moved to Exeter in 2006 and while there’s plenty of family history in the city, I was largely raised in the London suburb of Teddington – arguably Quins territory. You could see the national stadium from the college I did my A Levels at(heck any midweek matches at that stadium, from the ’99 RWC to the varsity games meant that we got a day off). I’m also pretty sure it’s within a stone’s throw of the Stoop.

However, while by the time I moved to Teddington I was already a fan of international rugby, getting into the club game was another matter entirely. I’m pretty sure the first club rugby game I watched wasn’t a Chiefs match but the next two certainly were(including a Cup final vs Rotherham at Twickenham) and then I moved to the city and the rest is history.

So the year is now 2011 and the Chiefs are now a Premiership side and still doing pretty solidly at that though we’d yet to win a Premiership game this year and are now out of both Cups. Furthermore when we visited the Quins at The Stoop earlier in the season, we got blown out of the water so badly that I’m glad the majority of my old crew from the London burbs aren’t club rugby fans.

Anyway, that didn’t stop the likes of Jeremy Guscott from thinking we’d win the encounter. I for one was not so optimistic. I had bigger concerns though, namely where was my brain. I got down to St Davids station to catch the bus and then realised I was carrying the ticket for the Leicester game! Doh! So, back home, catch a later bus, bus driver goes the wrong way but we get to Sandy Park eventually.

As I approached the Karrimore I realised that it was a lot more packed that usual and half the reason for that seemed to be a stag party who clearly hadn’t been to Sandy Park before(though they seemed to be supporting the Chiefs when they weren’t firing chants at each other)! Anyway, time to rumble.

Well due to the Karrimore being packed I didn’t have the greatest of views – particularly when the play was down the southwest corner but still there was no doubt that the Quins were there for a battle, thing is, Rob clearly had the Chiefs well trained as we seemed to be able to match their every move, force the Quins on to the back foot, then they conceded the penalty after a dodgy scrum and Steeno did what he does.

After that, well, no quarter taken and none given...though we were let off the hook when their kicker Nick Evans blew his first penalty and Steeno then showed him how it should be done not long afterwards. Evans did finally slot a pen but overall...well, the talk pre-match was on how fast the Quins can move and how we’d gotten outpaced by them on their turf but the fact is...we were matching them this time around. Steeno kicked another couple of pens but the Quins then drove us to our line looking for a try just before half time. They failed and only then did it sink in what the Chiefs were achieving.

Half time meant grabbing a pint and listening to my grandfather rave about the look of grim determination on Rob’s face. 40 minutes still seemed a long time but...it felt doable.

The second half came and I’m not sure I’d even finished my pint by the time I saw us surging down the far corner and everyone cheering as we touched it down, Johnson being given the credit.

After that it was just a case of holding on and not collapsing but the fact that the Quins fans were talking about – “we can still get a bonus point – a losing bonus point” told you all you needed to know. In the meantime Evans and Steeno exchanged kicks and the afternoon took on a sense of unreality that had little to do with some of the stuff the stag party was coming out with(does Budgie eat that many pies?)

Bottom line though, well...was this our most important win of the season? Well, they’re all important surely but the Quins fans on the bus back into town certainly knew who’d been the better side that night.

In an alternate reality I could have been a Harlequins fan, but ours is the only reality of consequence.

To my alternate self, the guttedness. The grin was mine.