When a child steps onto a professional sports field, it’s rarely just about their own ambition. For Honey Kerslake, the 18-year-old rugby prodigy now signed to Exeter Chiefs, the weight of legacy is as tangible as the grass beneath her boots. Her father, Jerry Collins, a revered All Blacks legend whose life was cut tragically short in 2015, isn’t just a name on a trophy case—he’s a ghost that haunts every tackle, every sprint, and every moment of doubt. This isn’t just a story about rugby; it’s a collision of personal history and professional destiny, and it raises a deeper question: How do we honor the past without letting it suffocate the future? Personally, I think Honey’s journey is a masterclass in navigating that tightrope. Her signing with Exeter Chiefs isn’t just a career milestone—it’s a cultural statement. What makes this particularly fascinating is how she’s turned grief into fuel, transforming her father’s memory into a driving force. It’s easy to romanticize such narratives, but what’s often overlooked is the sheer psychological burden of carrying a family name. Honey’s not just playing for herself; she’s playing for a legacy that demands perfection, yet she’s managing to carve out her own identity. That duality is what makes her story so compelling.
Let’s talk about the numbers. Jerry Collins played 48 times for New Zealand, a stat that feels almost quaint compared to the modern era of rugby. But his impact wasn’t just in caps—it was in the way he embodied the sport’s ethos. Now, his daughter is stepping into a world where women’s rugby is finally getting the attention it deserves. Exeter Chiefs’ decision to sign her isn’t just a nod to her talent; it’s a calculated bet on the future. Oli Bishop, the assistant coach, called her ‘exceptional,’ but what’s more telling is the fact that she was the only player promoted from U18s to U21s this year. That’s not just a personal achievement—it’s a seismic shift in how women’s rugby is developing talent. What many people don’t realize is that this kind of vertical progression is rare. Most athletes take years to move up, but Honey’s leap feels almost inevitable. It’s as if the sport itself is aligning with her trajectory.
But here’s where it gets interesting: Honey’s path isn’t just about rugby. She’s a product of the English education system, having completed her A-Levels at Exeter College before joining the Chiefs. This isn’t just a tale of athletic prowess; it’s about the intersection of academia and sport. The fact that she balanced school with underage rugby—captaining England U18s and debuting for U21s—speaks volumes about her discipline. Yet, I can’t help but wonder: How many young athletes are forced to choose between education and sport? Honey’s story is a rare exception, and that’s why it’s so significant. It’s a blueprint for the future, where talent isn’t sacrificed at the altar of grades.
And then there’s the symbolism of Exeter Chiefs themselves. This isn’t just any club—it’s a powerhouse in women’s rugby, with a clear pathway from school to professionalism. Their investment in Honey isn’t just financial; it’s ideological. They’re betting on a generation that’s redefining what women’s rugby can be. But what does this mean for the sport as a whole? If clubs like Exeter continue to prioritize young talent, we might see a seismic shift in how women’s rugby is structured. The ACE Girls League win with Exeter College last year was just the beginning. Now, Honey’s moving to the professional stage, and the world will be watching.
What this really suggests is that women’s rugby is entering a golden age. The fact that Honey is being compared to her father—a man who was a giant in the sport—is both a compliment and a challenge. She’s not just filling his shoes; she’s forging her own identity. And that’s the most important takeaway. Legacy is a double-edged sword. It can inspire, but it can also paralyze. Honey’s story is a reminder that while the past shapes us, the future is ours to write. As she steps onto the pitch for Exeter Chiefs, the world should be watching not just for what she achieves, but for how she redefines what it means to carry a legacy forward.
