So as Fremantle ascended into a genuine Premiership contender this year, I've found myself trying to explain why a 9 year old from a town of 4oo people in the middle of Tasmania would support Fremantle.
Many would say it could only take an eternal optimist to support the Dockers. The optimism wasn't hereditary though. I'm the son of a St Kilda man who was 10 years old the last time the Saints raised the premiership cup. Growing up with the likes of Stewart, Breen and Howell, it was a no brainer for the man that led West Launceston Primary School to a famous grand final win to support the Saints. 47 years on and the joy of those days are long gone. The agony of '97 was there to see first hand. A decade later I was 'fortunate' enough not to bare witness to those two loses in the presence of my dad.
My mum on the other hand...... well she hasn't been able to watch a game since Darren Glass' shiny shoulders departed our screens. Only this year, as the Tiger bandwagon gathers steam has she dared to watch a game.
With that family history behind me, I had the choice when the Dockers entered the league. I wasn't tied to any team (though the Bulldogs were the team of choice thanks to Danny Del Ray). Here was a new team, formed on the back of the Eagles success out west with the power of the WAFL and East Fremantle's success. They had bright new colours (obligatory in the 90's) and and a theme song that was the envy of the code(maybe).
As I ran around the back yard as a fully fledged member of the imaginary team, I played alongside the likes of Parker, Mann, Chisholm, Kickett, McManus and Waterhouse. However as the backyard premierships, Brownlow's and Coleman's mounted for the centre half forward named Booth and his team (I did let someone else get the Brownlow one year), the Dockers struggled on the field.
Through their first 8 years the Dockers were no higher than 12th. Through 11 years they played one finals game (a home finals loss no less and I remember the party I was at). It took 12 years to win a finals game and crack the top 4. They have also never back to back finals appearances.
Until now! If you haven't heard it already the purple army is gathering in strength. For the first time in my life I genuinely believe in my team and the premiership chances. It may be dangerous and could very well end in disaster and tears (very likely). I feel this is what it must be life to support Hawthorn or Geelong for the last 6 years. To know your team is not just a chance, but a contender. A team that should win and does. To take care of business. To dispatch the weak and challenge the elite.
Growing up I was lucky enough to travel to Melbourne to see them play. My first trip was out to the old Princes Park/Optus Oval to see them take on my Dad's beloved Saints. A young Nick Riewoldt was in that Saints side. The Dockers lost, Dad didn't think Riewoldt had what it took and it started a trend of not seeing them win when I was there. Trips to York Park/Aurora Stadium were frivolous, as were the trips across Bass Strait to the old Telstra Dome. It took my move to Brisbane (and the company of my future wife) to finally witness a win. That win, the Quentin Leach kick after the siren and the victory over Geelong were until a month ago the Dockers greatest games.
Then came the Carlton game 4 weeks ago. It was in my eyes a perfect game and a perfect illustration of what this team has become. The first half saw the best attacking defense I've seen. They swarmed on every Carlton player who touched the ball. The forwards protected the ball leaving the 50 with a fervor rarely seen. A team once
For a team that kicked 100 points 6 times last season they have already done it 10 times in 2013 (not including a 99 point game). At the same time they are happy to bog down and win by kicking scores in the sixties as they've done twice this year. They concede on average 67 points, 8 points clear of the next best team the Swans.
Ross Lyon has instilled a culture, a system and a belief not just into the players but into a fan group. His methods have honed at his time at St Kilda. Proven on all but the biggest stage (and if it weren't for the ball bouncing at right angles in front of Milne..... sorry Dad). He has turned Suban from a sub to a star. A team previously reliant on Pav and Sandi, now sees them just as another cog in the machine.
Two years ago the Dockers came to a crossroad. To continue down the path of intermittent success, of finals football without a plan. Or to veer right, court controversy and divide the fans and go all in. All in it was with Lyon.
Two years later here we are. Fremantle fans believe, as does the rest of the AFL world. This September may mark a crossroads for my own sporting future. It could lead me down the same path many a generations of my family have walked or it could pave the way for a life free from the cynicism, giving me that grand final my father never had. Let's hope for my sake its the later.
