G’day friends!
In the aftermath of last week’s finals shocker from Fremantle I wanted somebody to articulate the unique experience of supporting the Dockers, so I reached out to fellow Substacker Mim, whose writing I’ve really enjoyed this season.
I think it’s been summed it up brilliantly.
And yes, this is the second guest post this week. We’re always open to contributors so if you think you have something you’d like to add to this project drop me a line at nick@jumperpunches.com.
Alright, let’s get stuck in.
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The story goes that in 1951, the County Mayo team bus of jubilant All-Ireland winners drove blithely through the hushed contemplation of a funeral procession. An incensed priest condemned this lack of respect for the deceased, and laid a curse upon the revellers: County Mayo would not win another All-Ireland until all members of the offending squad had perished from this mortal coil.
It doesn’t really matter that all objective evidence suggests the funeral procession, the heedless team bus, the wrathful priest are purely apocryphal. County Mayo’s curse spoke for itself: eleven All-Ireland Final appearances, plus two replays, without once laying hands to the trophy.
Then in 2026 (with every member of the 1951 winning team interred, for those superstitiously inclined), Mayo did it. They finally won.
Freo are on a dry spell of their own, which spans their entire existence in the Australian Football League. But Australia does not have Ireland’s propensity for superstition. Ours is a hard-eyed culture, where the world operates by rational, market-driven principles; in Australia, teams lose because they are not good enough. It can drive you crazy, as a Freo fan. At least there’s sympathy extended to blameless victims of supernatural forces. Curses can be broken. What if your team is simply never good enough?
This is the permanent sliver of doubt skewering the heart of every single Freo fan. It doesn’t matter that the team tore apart the competition on a 14-game win streak. It doesn’t matter that we secured a home final. It doesn’t matter that we clinched the minor premiership. That dark, painful shard never goes away. What if we’re not good enough when it counts?
Last Thursday, we weren’t just “not good enough”. We didn’t look close to a premiership winning side.
It was a game so bad you stop thinking about footy and start thinking about death. What if my dad dies without ever seeing a flag? And then, The bastard deserves it for raising me to be a Freo fan.
We missed easy goals. We fumbled easy disposals. We meandered into ferocious Hawthorn tackles. The Sherrin itself seemed to wilfully bounce into opposition hands. And there were the Hawthorn Hawks, once more the executioners of Freo’s highest hopes.
Two teams, two lengthy rebuilds, finally finishing top four. But the difference is, last go around the Hawks won three flags.
Freo rebuilds creep along at a geological timescale, ebbing, flowing, steps forward, steps backwards; then, when that contention finally arrives, it seems to last about as long as that bag of baby spinach at the back of your fridge. Even poised where we are demographically, with theoretical years of contention stretching out ahead, every pre-Y2K birthdate sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not as easy for us as it is for the big eastern state teams, nabbing free agents, feasting on the fallen carcasses of expansion teams and wooden spooners. Freo haven’t brought in a free agent through bidding for years; the team sheet is rounded out by discards and hard luck stories, determined to prove their mettle.
And for most of 2026, they have proven themselves—proven themselves to be the best in the comp. Take Josh Treacy, the ultimate “chip on your shoulder” archetype. Overlooked entirely in the national draft, squeezed onto Freo’s rookie list, he clung to his AFL lifeline with both hands. And like anything trapped between those giant mitts, he held on tight. And then last Thursday, on the biggest stage of all, Josh Treacy once again fumbled, stumbled like a rookie. I don’t single out Josh Treacy because he was uniquely deserving of critique; he was one of dozens of Freo players having an off night. Basically the entire team played below their baseline (except Jordan Clark, who retroactively earned his 2026 AA blazer). But Josh Treacy is the guy who never has an off night.
Here is where you’d like a curse. Sure, the weather was inclement, favouring our opposition’s style of game. Sure, there were nerves for our young list. Sure, some of the umpiring decisions at crucial moments were hard to swallow for the home crowd. External factors were nowhere near sufficient to explain this degree of underperformance. But there’s no curse, either. You have to plainly say “we weren’t good enough when it counted”.
Journalist Matt Price once described Freo as “an antidote to the incurable virus of instant gratification”. He loved Freo, and he never saw a premiership. I’ll love Freo my whole life too, even if I never see a premiership. It’s not just the likes of Treacy, Voss, Dudley, Switkowski with a chip on their shoulder—this is the core identity of Freo, right down to the fanbase. We’ve never had that instant gratification. We never had blissful, simple trust in our beloved club. And we’re still sticking with the Dockers. If you never have doubt, you never need faith.
A shocker like Thursday could shred attendance figures, especially from a fickle fanbase accustomed to success after success. That’s not the Freo fanbase. The Geelong semifinal sold out almost instantly.
Freo are better than this. Freo fans believe that Freo are better than this. This Friday, Freo’s long-suffering fans still have faith that they’ll taste triumph instead of more bitter, dockery despair.
And I’d simply ask Transperth to be very mindful of any funeral processions passing through train crossings.
That’s us all caught up.
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Catch you next week.
This is so well written. Loved it.
Love the Mayo references also.