Visit Exeter to talk about last Saturday’s stunning triumph over Clermont Auvergne and it soon becomes clear it was a big night off the pitch too. The Chiefs’ pre-Christmas party was almost as memorable, with an array of players dressed as elves, reindeer, snowmen, gingerbread men and Father Christmases all hitting the town. Pride of place went to a seasonal turkey in full festive costume. Thomas Waldrom always delivers at this time of year.
While the west country’s carol singers already have their favourite son – “Now-ell, Now-ell: Born is the king of Corn‑wa‑all!” – there is only one Thomas the Tank. The former England No8 has scored five tries in his last two games; barely a week now passes without an arm-pumping “Toot Toot!” celebration from one of rugby’s more idiosyncratic professionals. Even without the turkey outfit he bought online – “I went for the fleecy version … there was an inflatable one but I didn’t think I could trust the boys” – he spreads reliably glad tidings.
For those worried that modern sport now produces only identikit gym rats, Waldrom and the Chiefs are also a refreshing antidote. How many elite sportsmen prepare for big games by attending Cookie Club every Wednesday afternoon? The founders – Damian Welch, Dave Ewers and Ben White – were swift to identify a likely new recruit. “They all looked at me,” says a deadpan Waldrom. “I told them I was definitely the sort of guy who could add a lot.” The idea is that one player either bakes or buys a sweet treat for his team-mates each week. No prizes for guessing who has been raising the stakes. “I like to mix it up. I’ve done mini banoffee pies and a doughnut cake. There were probably four packets of mini-doughnuts in it. It was quite nice assembling it into a tower.”
This, remember, is not a bunch of happy amateurs. Chiefs are currently the second-placed side in England and have just stuck 31 points on the French league leaders. The coaching team of Rob Baxter, Ali Hepher and Rob Hunter run a high-class operation; Clermont remain undefeated at home in Europe for seven years but, despite a lengthening injury list, no one at Sandy Park is fazed by Sunday’s rematch. Their secret is common knowledge: the Chiefs enjoy each other’s company and believe that shared good times off the field help them bond a little tighter on it.
Waldrom knew he had made a good decision within a fortnight of his arrival from Leicester in 2014. His relationship with his previous director of rugby, Richard Cockerill, had soured and the Tigers’ training regime had started to get to him. “The days are gone when you go and do 100 sets of bench-presses. That’s not me. At Leicester that’s what they did. That was the culture and if you don’t buy in you don’t last very long. I probably lost my way a little bit.”
The 32-year-old will forever be grateful to the Tigers for propelling him into Test rugby – he won five caps in 2012-13 – but life beside the Exe estuary has been a breath of fresh air in every respect. “I’m not the typical mould for a rugby player but I enjoy it down here … it fits me better. You’re a professional sportsman but you’ve got to have a bit of fun as well. If you let things get to you, you end up in a dark place. You’re probably not going to see a six-pack on me but I love what I’m doing.”
Exeter also appreciate Waldrom’s keen rugby instincts and deceptive range of skills. No one is sharper off the back of a close-range driving maul; in May he equalled Neil Back’s all‑time record for the most tries – 16 – by a forward in a Premiership season. “It’s hard to put into words the feeling you get from five metres out. Maybe I’m looking a couple of steps ahead of everyone else. That’s what I’d like people to think about me: that when the pressure comes on I make the right decisions.”
Baxter jokes that it may not be entirely down to quick thinking – “I don’t know if it’s reflexes or just body weight” – but, in truth, the doughnut-loving dilettante is a fond caricature. Every pre-season Waldrom goes road‑running four or five times per week; as a kid back in the Hutt Valley outside Wellington he did plenty of athletics, specialising in the shot put, hammer and discus. His elder brother Scott earned All Black selection and his family – his father is a prison officer, his mother manages a grocery store – always loved their sport. “People might not look at me as the fittest but it’s one of the things I pride myself on,” murmurs Waldrom. “We don’t eat biscuits every day – or at least that’s what we try and tell people.”
The Chiefs are undeniably a tight posse. Waldrom and his young family live three houses down from Jack Nowell, while Ewers is a 30-second walk away. It is not quite the gang warfare of Chicago but Nowell heads the main rival to the Cookie Club – the less celebrated Sandwich Club who also gather on Wednesdays for coffee and snacks. “They might be a bit posher than we are … it’s mostly the backs,” sniffs Waldrom. “Most of the forwards are with us. We’ve had some disasters but that’s the fun of it.”
It is a similarly cheerful story in the evenings when, along with full-back Phil Dollman, the Anglo-Kiwi helps coach – and educate – Exeter University’s freshers team. “Me and Dolly have a tradition where we take them out for a night, let them have a few beers and let their hair down. We get told off but it’s what we like to do.” He also makes a point of passing on his old kit to the students, having been a grateful young beneficiary himself before he broke into the Wellington provincial side alongside Jonah Lomu. “He was a top man. Jonah had 15 cars at the time and he’d let the boys drive them around. He was always there for us young guys.”
Stick the whole Christmas package together and Exeter have a substantial asset in every sense. Waldrom suspects his injured back-row colleague Ewers has a brighter England future – “I’ve been lucky enough to play with Richie McCaw and Kieran Read and he’s right up there” – but, even without him, Clermont will find the fun-loving Chiefs no pushovers. Unless, of course, they leave several plates of macaroons in the away dressing room beforehand. Toot! Toot!
