Exeter Chiefs 7 – Bristol Bears 20
In a dismal week for the country the only ray of light after Boris’s screeching hand break turn was the fact that the top two Premiership rugby teams in the land would be facing off against each other in a modern day Clash of the Titans as elite sport appeared to be pretty much the only thing that survived the culling of Chris Witty and his band of scientific raiders. For Bears fans it also stirred pleasurable memories of the ‘Sandy Park Special’ last season which in many ways marked the start of the our march to top table feasting. I still chuckle at the referee’s comment after the final try that he could see the ball but didn’t know how it had got there despite the 15 man Bristol juggernaut ram raiding the Exeter try line.
Excitement continued to grow throughout the week as the teams were announced, with Bristol naming a 23 so filthy that most fans had to take a shower immediately after reading it. Exeter’s wasn’t too shabby either with most of their international players included bar Stuart Hogg who was probably having to give his artificial lid another week off to recover from the Autumn Nations Cup. It then reached near orgasmic levels after Barf got turned over by Wasps on their cabbage patch and Glaws succumbed to a dose of yet more Geordie filthery, confirming without doubt who the Mummy and Daddy of south west rugby truly were, the only question left being which one would be wearing the trousers at 6.30pm on Saturday evening.
So, it was all set up nicely and while the man in the middle last week was the choirboy-esque Christophe Ridley, this time we had the gnarly Karl Dickson, the sort of fella whose pint you avoid spilling on a night out in a pub. A what, I hear you shout?
With match ups all over the pitch, a pre match interview with Joycey where he appeared to be doing vertical one armed press ups on the post and a ‘we only win or we learn’ soundbite from Pat ringing in our ears it was inevitable that the first 20 minutes of Bristol’s ‘test against the best’, as BT Sports Department of rhyming had devised for their commentators, was a bit of a let down and akin to an arm wrestle competition where no-one actually puts their elbow on the table. Chief miscreants were Jake Woolmore and Harry Williams who were matched in both excessive beardry as well as an apparent inability to pack down properly, so were soon caught in the cross hairs of an increasingly irritated Karl Dickson. Harry Williams is a funny chap. He’s like a human mosaic on steroids and in another life could be a performance artist on Las Ramblas in Barcelona rather than a Games of Thrones extra from Cullompton. Anyway, like a frustrated secondary school teacher who can’t get his class to settle, Dickson went for the risky nuclear option and announced that if they couldn’t scrummage properly then he would find two people that could. Several penalties and numerous resets later he did just that and sent the naughty boys to the stands. The look of bemusement on their faces was a picture. ‘What, you really meant that?’ It was a lesson for all teachers across the land. If you threaten then you’ve got to go through with it or risk being ineffective for life. Make Karl Dickson Secretary of State for Education.They need someone like him..
It was a compelling, rather than exciting rest of the first half and amidst the grunt there were chinks of serious light, mainly emanating from Harry Randall who was a live wire throughout and even had the temerity to score a try from a trademark rolling maul, much to the irritation of ‘double Y’ Bryan Byrne who had no doubt assumed it was his job. Ben Earl was causing mischief at the breakdown, Nathan Hughes was making a play for being the UK’s sole Greco-Roman wrestling representative at this year’s Olympics and Siva Nualago was bringing his army experience to the party by inventing the more rapid yet highly risky ‘blitzkrieg’ defence. That said, the one crumb of comfort that came from Exeter’s equalising try was that Siva didn’t get carded for a deliberate knock on and was withdrawn early in the second half to be replaced by someone from the opposite end of the human spectrum in Ioan Lloyd, albeit no less effective. it reminded the watching viewers that another thing that Bristol have shown this year is that rugby players should come in all shapes and sizes.
If we thought the first half was brutal, then the second took it to another level. Harry Randall continued his ascent up Eddie Jones’s shopping list and the Bristol front row settled down with the appearance of Yann Thomas who took over from big Jake with assured relish. Clearly the biggest highlight of the half was the bagelling of Exeter, a phrase that connoisseurs of the French language and middle class delis in Southville will know means that they got a big fat zero. Interestingly they also got a big fat zero in the second half the last time we were at Sandy Park with sadly the only difference being that there weren’t any Chiefs’ fans there to have to experience it live. There was also a bit of naughty language from Kyle Sinckler after Luke Cowan-Dickie had tried to chop his legs off below his knees with his head but luckily Steven Luatua was on hand like a friendly Uncle to calm him down. You could tell he was angry as he almost talked back to Mr Dickson who no doubt would have felt compelled to put him in detention for at least 6 months. As the half wore on there was this strange sense of calm that descended over the Bears as it became apparent that from about 70 mins in we were going to win. Against the European Champions. At Sandy Park. Again. The cherry on the collective cake was the coup de grace from Semi on the crash ball that finally put the Chiefs out of their misery from what can only be described as a ‘deliciously filthy’ offload from Pier O’Connor.
And so there it was. A victory that will no doubt send tremors around the rest of the Premiership. It’s hard to argue that Bristol don’t deserve their place at the top table and the more they feast, the hungrier they will get. This was a victory born out of collective endeavour but punctuated by individual brilliance and despite the presence of international superstars like Semi, Charles and Sinckler, it was also the engine room work done by the unheralded heroes like Joycey, big Dave Attwood, Bryan Byrne and the imperious Piers O’Connor that got us over the line. And then if that wasn’t filthy enough the two young Jedis, Randall and Lloyd, combined to execute such a ridiculous blindside move involving a floated pass, a catch on the- run, a double grubber and a chase that most Bears fans at home had to have CPR administered by their partners. Exeter will be hurting but perhaps deep down they will be pleased that they have real competitors for the SW crown and it will drive them on
Filthy Rig 