“Is that the one? Is that the one that leads the Chiefs to the promised land?”

The above words were spoken by BT Sport commentator Alastair Eykyn just before the hour mark in the 2019 Gallagher Premiership final and I’m still not sure I will ever forgive him.

He was not without reason to say it - Henry Slade had just finished off a slick handling move, coming from a Sam Skinner offload, to score in the corner at Twickenham and send the Exeter Chiefs into a 27-16 lead over Saracens.

Exeter had been at it from the off, scoring after less than 30 seconds. They had survived a yellow card to Slade after two minutes.

Saracens had been error-prone, off their game, and it looked as though this could really be the day the Chiefs got some enjoyable revenge on their perennial tormentors.

But with 58 minutes on the clock? Against this side? Come on, Ali.

Saracens in search of the double - again

The build-up to the game was not focused on Exeter. In fact, when it comes to finals in recent years, it very rarely was on anyone other than Saracens.

The London juggernaut - the Wolfpack - fresh off defeating Leinster to claim another European crown, came into this final in search of their second double in four years.

Their first was considered remarkable but their second would elevate them, in the eyes of many, to rugby immortality.

They had been the Chiefs’ undoing in two previous Premiership finals, with the only time Exeter tasting victory over them coming in a dramatic semi-final down at Sandy Park.

It is a game that lives long in the collective memory for Henry Slade’s kick for the ages.

So it was that all the talk pre-game was about the men from Allianz Park and their illustrious modern history.

More recent events will naturally cast a stern light on those achievements. In the eyes of many, the gloss has been well and truly taken off what Saracens have done.

However, on that warm June day at Twickenham, those thoughts were far from the madding crowd as 80,000 people waited in expectation for a clash to take off the roof.

Chiefs fire out of the blocks but Saracens hit back in frenzied opening stanza

Whatever anyone’s expectations were for the opening of this final, it would have taken a hardy man to predict the start we got.

Kicking off, Exeter scrambled on George Kruis’ spilling of the catch and set up camp immediately within the Saracens 22.

Fresh off the Londoners’ defensive heroics against Leinster the previous month, scoring from that range was no guarantee even for a side as clinical in that area as Exeter.

However, they did not have to wait long as Aussie scrumhalf and fabulous moustache owner Nic White burrowed over after less than 30 seconds of game time.

The Tomahawk Chop rang around the stadium from the ecstatic Devonians, in whose number I count myself having been at Twickenham that day, and there was a sense in the air already that maybe today would be different.

However, Saracens were the perpetual winners for a reason.

They roared straight back at the Chiefs after Slade was sent to the bin for a deliberate knock-on, continuing the offensive and Jamie George eventually rumbled over to make it 7-all and a yellow card inside five minutes.

This was followed by an Owen Farrell penalty and a burrowing score by Ben Spencer to put Sarries further ahead.

But in case you thought it was all getting too one-sided, Exeter than rallied to see Maro Itoje sin-binned and Dave Ewers took advantage to put the Devon side back in front.

It was 14-13 and we’d seen two yellow cards - all within 21 minutes.

Phew.

No quarter given as titans clash

If anyone was in any doubt that they were watching the two best sides in England go head to head that day, it was long forgotten as a match of the highest intensity unfolded.

Chiefs shed the ‘one dimensional’ tag in style as they repeatedly carved open Saracens’ usually watertight defence, culminating in their third try through ‘Mr Levers’ himself - Jonny Hill.

Farrell and Joe Simmonds traded further penalties before the break as Exeter took a 22-16 lead into the sheds.

Despite the interval, the battle resumed with equal ferocity after half-time although the contest became markedly less open.

It became about pure physical dominance. Two sides hardly afraid of contact were battering into each other, looking for any advantage or extra metre they could find.

Nowell embarks on adventure of a lifetime

If there is a subplot to be picked out from the myriad options presented by this fascinating game, it might just be the performance of Jack Nowell.

Starting in his less familiar position at 15, Nowell was a one-man Alamo effort as he took the game to Saracens at every opportunity.

It seemed from the crowd that day that if there was a record in the books for the most first-up tackles beaten by a player in a single game, he might just have obliterated it.

He ran the ball back with purpose and defended like a lion when called upon, delivering one of the truly great final performances and arguably one of the greatest ever efforts in a losing side.

The sight of him hobbling from the field with ten minutes to go, just as Saracens were taking hold of the contest, was the death knell to many Chiefs’ fans hopes that they would find a way back into the game.

The injury would rule him out of a small portion of the upcoming 2019 Rugby World Cup and, by anyone’s measure, it was poor reward for a performance of the highest quality.

Slade score triggers record-breaking comeback

The turning point in the game came around the hour mark and not in the way you would expect.

Slade started the move himself, looping a long pass out to Sam Skinner who was stood out on the wing.

The Scottish international took on all comers, bursting through a couple of shoddy tackles before finding a miracle offload back to Slade, who dotted down in the corner and brought the now infamous words to Mr Eykyn’s lips.

However, as Rocky Balboa found his strength when he got knocked down, so did this score only serve to awaken the Saracens beast.

Reclaiming the ensuing kick-off immediately, Saracens launched an attack that felt almost like clockwork.

Suddenly, the Sarries we knew had come to life, ruthlessly gaining every possible yard with Chiefs seemingly powerless to halt the drive.

Eventually, the ball came back to Farrell and he launched a cross-kick that landed perfectly in the hands of Liam Williams who promptly dotted down.

I know for a fact I was not alone among Chiefs fans at that moment realising the next twenty minutes could now be really hard to witness.

I was not wrong, either.

Saracens, now well and truly in their groove, looked every bit the unstoppable force they had been for years by this stage.

They had all the momentum, their timing was impeccable and everything they touched turned to gold, while it was all Exeter could do to hang on for dear life.

No side before this had ever comeback from more than six points down to win a Premiership final. Within minutes, Saracens had gone from 11 points down to leading as Alex Lozowski went over out wide to put the champions back in control.

As long as there was one score in it, however, Chiefs had hope.

Brutal Saracens enter their own promised land

However, it was not a long-lived hope.

As the clock entered the final four minutes of the contest, Chiefs still believed but they were camped on their own line, desperately repelling a red wave that threatened to engulf them like Eastern Europe in the 1950s.

Their resistance, though brave, was broken ultimately by Jamie George who bulldozed his way over under the sticks to send Saracens fans into raptures and get the fat lady singing.

Even Sam Hill’s consolation try after the siren would do nothing to comfort the Chiefs, but it did put a significant bookend on what was an extraordinary game of rugby.

You would do well to find a game anywhere that so easily married pure unbridled intensity and the kind of flowing rugby that gets crowds off their feet.

Every man involved was spent at the end of 80 minutes, as Chiefs’ beaten warriors littered the battlefield and the victors basked in a hard-won dominance.

Slade himself would later admit it was the “worst he had ever felt” in rugby, and it is not hard to see why when reflecting on the opportunity Chiefs had to finally get one back on Saracens.

Leading Saracens by 11 points is not something that happens every day, let alone in a Premiership final.

However, regardless of what has been revealed since, it is hard not to admire what Saracens could do when they really found their mojo.

It made for without doubt the greatest Premiership final (even in my opinion) that we have yet seen and one that will be talked about for many years as the great last ride of this generation of Saracens.

But let’s forget the politics for a moment and instead just remember 80 minutes of rugby that gave us more than we had any right to expect.

It truly was some ride.