For three decades, the AFL’s minor premiers received the McClelland Trophy. Now they get squeaky bum syndrome. Prior to the introduction of the pre-finals bye in 2016, there was a nine-year stretch where the minor premiers beat the fourth-placed team in the qualifying final. The average winning margin in those games was 45 points.
The bye saw a marked shift, however. In 2016, GWS bashed and bludgeoned the top-placed Swans at ANZ Stadium. Three years later, Collingwood jumped ladder leaders Geelong. They nearly did it again in 2022, narrowly going down in one of the great finals of the modern era. The top-placed Pies only just scraped through against Melbourne the following year, in a game remembered for Brayden Maynard’s high blow that ended Angus Brayshaw’s career. In 2024, the fourth-placed Giants lost to Sydney after being five goals up in the second half. And last year, Collingwood rolled into Adelaide like a band of hired assassins and beat the top-placed Crows.
There’s a pattern here. Qualifying finals that were once jolly romps are now often nerve shredders. The week off appears to have narrowed the gap between fourth and first. Both Craig McRae and Chris Scott spoke earlier in the year about the benefits of being the hunter rather than the hunted. The top side, they said, is always studied, copied and plotted against. Both stressed that just because you finish 12 points clear on top of the ladder doesn’t mean you get a 12-point advantage on qualifying final night.
Fremantle spent nearly four months on top of the ladder this season. As they go into Thursday night’s qualifier against Hawthorn, Champion Data’s boffins say the Dockers have the best premiership profile since the 2022 and 2007 Geelong sides. They had five players in the All-Australian team, and several who were unlucky to miss out, including captain Alex Pearce. They have thrown up bangers nearly every time they’ve played at Optus Stadium. One of their few losses, against Melbourne at the MCG, was arguably the best game of the home-and-away season.
And they’ve had the kitchen sink thrown at them. Opposition coaches have tried everything. They’ve gone fast, slow and sideways. They’ve flooded and tagged. In at least half a dozen games, there have been moments where the Dockers look like they may have been found out, where they may be too good to be true. In every instance, they absorbed what the opposition threw at them, adjusted and put their foot down. There’s no fat or filler in there. Every player contributes, and every player has a defined purpose, even the WAFL reserves.
Their late season slump, if that’s what it was, can be explained away. In August, with two home finals secured, they could be forgiven for asking themselves “what exactly is at stake here?”. They just trundled along at times. They left good players back in Perth. They’re a team, and a midfield in particular, that needs to feel blade against the skin to be at their best. They’re not a team that banks instantly forgettable four-goal wins. They’re not cut out for sleepy early Saturday afternoon shifts at the Docklands. They need jeopardy.
They got that the last time they played Hawthorn. It was a game that tested every aspect of their coaching, their commitment and their talent. They never threw in the towel, even with Nick Watson pinging like an arrow from the bow, even with Jack Gunston operating in more acreage than Jason Dunstall at Waverley.
On the night before games, especially on interstate trips, Sam Mitchell sometimes relaxes by reading passages from the Bible. On the day of games, he plays hours of online chess. Chess is a great leveller – a five-year-old from Mumbai can take down a 43-year-old Melburnian who’s still deciding whether to tag Reid, Bolton or Serong. For Mitchell, coaching is a chess game, a puzzle to be solved.
Mitchell is the alpha, and Justin Longmuir is the introvert. Mitchell wanted to be an entrepreneur when he was younger. Longmuir wanted to be a farmer. He did the media rounds this week, including perhaps surprisingly with David King and Kane Cornes on their breakfast show. Longmuir set his alarm, fronted up and mended some bridges. King, a fierce critic over the years, asked him about chasing the first ever premiership at the club, and the knowledge that they will be “immortals” in Western Australia if they win one. Most coaches, and certainly Longmuir, would be expected to gently pat away a question like that. By going there, you bring up all the old tropes about getting “Dockery”.
But Longmuir was frank. “I would be very surprised if that’s not at the forefront of everyone’s mind,” he said. “And it drifts into my mind regularly – all the time, not just at this time of year. But we’re doing our best to stay in the moment and stay where our feet are.” He has a lot to contend with – the chess master in the opposition box, the wizard in the forward pocket, the anxiety of being the hunted, and the anchor of 30 years without a flag. But he has the right temperament and the right pieces to meet the moment.
