Torquay’s fightback – how one football club is rebuilding a team, a business and fan community

While the budgets at the top of the footballing pyramid in England keep getting bigger and bigger, clubs lower down remain on a financial knife edge, while being arguably, more integral to the community they serve. One club which is making great strides both in the town and on the pitch is Torquay United. David Granger spoke to its new CEO.

The stories of legendary, historic football clubs in Britain facing tough times were rife this year. From Morecambe to Sheffield Wednesday there was a real danger that teams which had played from more than a century could go under. 

Eighteen months ago Torquay United AFC were also arguably on that list.

But 18 months ago, a group of fans came together to save the south coast club after it hit the lowest point in its 125-year history.

That group has not just rescued Torquay United, they have revived it and put it firmly back on the road to if not the Football League, then heading in the right direction. Regular gates of over 4,000 are now seeing a club that wants to succeed, with fans at the heart of it. 

Torquay United was rescued from financial collapse after the Bryn Consortium; a group of seven local businessmen (and importantly Torquay United fans) completed their takeover of the National League South club. 

The fan-led group took their name from a police dog that famously bit a Torquay player during a crucial 1987 relegation battle*, agreed to settle all debts within six months. The financial crisis they inherited had forced the club into administration in April 2024, resulting in a 10-point penalty which contributed to their 18th-place finish. 

The takeover marked the fourth ownership change at Plainmoor since 2007, with footballing legend and former Gulls manager Neil Warnock advising the consortium on their bid to save the Devon club.

Part of the plan was to bring in outside experience to assist the new owners with getting the club back on financial track.  With that in mind, they appointed Mark Thomas. While the Members of the Bryn Consortium all had local connections to the club, Thomas was recruited while working in Shanghai where he was running a Formula One hospitality project. But while he had a 20-year career in global sports – and commercial consulting – football wasn’t part of his immediate plans.

But after a video call with Torquay’s new owners, he took on the role. Or as he puts it, the challenge. What he found, and the consortium could see in Torquay was a passionate fanbase, a historic club, and a town with enormous untapped potential. 

Thomas said: “The club almost collapsed. It had fallen down the leagues. And we’re playing in a league below where we should be. We’ve got the biggest crowds, the biggest fan base, and the biggest commercial upside. And those fans care so much. “They deserve better than what recent history has given them.”

The consortium have been sensitive to both the needs and sentiment of the fans. While there will be tough calls, there is also a place on the new board for the Supporters’ Trust which means the fiercest of critics of previous regimes now find themselves with a place at the decision-making table. 

And not just onboard decisions either, the Supporters’ Trust has also put its collective hands into its pockets, recently investing in upgraded goal nets. It’s this combination of good financial housekeeping while involving the people who have kept the faith during some turbulent years which form one of the principles Thomas works on.

Community alignment is one principle, in conjunction with financial stability, revenue growth and cost control. 

“The new owners needed stop the bleeding, build the runway, and make smart investments. It sounds simple – make more money, spend less – but with all the emotion in football, it’s a challenge.” 

A big part of his strategy is separating capital expenditure (stadium, infrastructure) from operational spending (players, staff). “We’ve got a roof that needs fixing and floodlights that need funding, those are capital issues. They can’t be funded from our day-to-day matchday revenues.”

But if the infrastructure and the involvement of the community the club serves is important, what happens on the pitch is also going to help raise community spirits, and attendance numbers,

The 2025–26 squad is stronger than last year, with upgraded positions and a better style of play under head coach Paul Wooton. “We can never guarantee promotion. But we can promise a team that plays with pride and a club the fans can be proud of.”

Thomas is clear about the task ahead, and realistic about what success will look like: “In 12 months’ time, success is this: we’re in the National League, financially sustainable, and writing a break-even budget for 2026/27.”

And the blend of business and sports is what Torquay United have strived to achieve over the last 18 months. Thomas returns again and again to the human, the emotive side of the club. “Torquay is a stunning part of the country. But when you dig under the bonnet of what a club like this means to its community, it’s profound. Almost religious.” He credits the Bryn Consortium who like many of the fans and local, lifelong, loyal fans with rescuing the club in both spirit and structure. “There’s no property play, no celebrity agenda. Just people who care.”

Thomas said: “Promotion. Financial sustainability. And pride. That’s the goal. These clubs are precious community assets. We have to treat them like that. And right now, we’re doing that in Torquay.”

*The name Bryn Consortium? In 1987, Torquay United faced Crewe Alexandra to avoid relegation from the Football League. With minutes remaining and trailing 2-1, things looked bleak — until Bryn, a police dog, leapt into action sinking his teeth into Jim McNichol’s thigh. The Torquay right-back hit the deck, and the subsequent injury delay gave Torquay the extra time necessary for Paul Dobson to score a goal and secure a 2-2 draw — enough to keep Torquay up. Bryn is remembered as the dog whose bite rescued a team — one of football’s strangest survival stories.