HAVING imposed himself on the game with a force that Collingwood could not match, Drew Petrie made another significant statement last Friday week. It provided a post-siren, on-ground television interview of rare interest.
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We're proud to be North Melbourne, clad in our blue-and-white stripes, was his blunt message. And we want to reclaim Friday night football because we invented it.
It is almost eight months since Petrie's club said no thanks to the AFL's Gold Coast relocation booty, opting to stand its ground and fight (or die on its feet, depending on your viewpoint). The battle has only begun, but the events that stirred Petrie's passion were another example of the lines on which it will be fought.
The club that has been such a pioneer swooping on the shortlived 10-year rule, kickstarting the ubiquitous grand final breakfast, recruiting the Krakouer brothers, turning control over to shareholders, leading the Friday night charge has chosen to buck the contemporary mantra that says new markets are the route one to progress.
Instead, an eye to the rear-view mirror has given us the Retro Roos.
"We've looked at the future to the detriment of our past for too long," says chief executive Eugene Arocca, who threw himself into a crash course on the club's history after taking the job last summer. "Claiming back the jumper, pushing the kangaroo off the jumper we just took the view that we wanted to make the people who support North Melbourne remember what it was like to support the club.
"If we can give ourselves a relevance to Victoria and to Melbourne, if going retro is a unique and romantic way of capturing that spirit, that's one aspect of our club that we're quite happy to be part of."
Captain Adam Simpson describes the players wearing their traditional strip during last Friday night's warm-up, before changing into their alternative outfit as the Collingwood clash jumper saga rumbled on, as "a two-pronged attack". It was "a bit of a stance on what we want to do with the jumper", Simpson said, but also a nod to the club's 1975 and '77 premiership players, who were embraced that night in a way none will forget.
Seven weeks ago, chairman James Brayshaw handed out copies of The Coach , the late John Powers' wonderful, fly-on-the-wall record of the 1977 season under Ron Barassi. "He probably thought that's how long it would take a footballer to read a book," Simpson said, adding that the task was embraced by all.
In the rooms before the Collingwood match, the '70 heroes sat alongside the current team as coach Dean Laidley interpreted a whiteboard filled with Barassi-speak into contemporary football jargon. Speaking on radio two days later, Stan Alves said it was a magic moment. It clearly didn't distract the players from the task at hand.
Another past players' function will be held after today's Melbourne game, while the lowering of the club's eyes to its own doorstep has led Arocca and Brayshaw to be selling memberships at the Queen Victoria Market at 5am, and players doorstopping Errol Street shops dispensing posters and goodwill. As Simpson notes: "We've done all this work interstate and around the country, but we haven't nailed down this community."
Simpson says pre-season community camps in "Queensland and Morwell and wherever" are well and good, but should really be held in neighbouring Kensington. Arocca has already sent the AFL a letter asking for such, redirecting the campaign for members from the interstate hustings to the African and other immigrant populations in North's backyard.
"We want to hold our community camp at Holland Park or Arden Street, and open our doors to the 10,000 immigrants who are living literally on our doorstep but who are now off trying to play soccer or basketball," Arocca says.
Plans have been submitted to Melbourne City Council for a Learning And Life Centre development at Arden Street, to not simply give the club facilities to rank alongside inner-city neighbour the Western Bulldogs, but to reconnect North with a time when it was the immigration gateway to Victoria. "It's damning of the club that only two kilometres away is a demographic that had been embraced by North Melbourne, but (latterly) had been ignored. And they are our immigrants."
Turning a $2.5 million loss six years ago into a small profit last season is a start, but only a small one; knocking back the league's $100 million relocation offer had the board painted as idealists out of touch with reality. The Gemba report that precipitated the decision that had been embraced by North Melbourne, but (latterly) had been ignored. And they are our immigrants."
Turning a $2.5 million loss six years ago into a small profit last season is a start, but only a small one; knocking back the league's $100 million relocation offer had the board painted as idealists out of touch with reality. The Gemba report that precipitated the decision predicted that, from 2010, the club would need to generate an extra $6-8 million, in order to increase football expenditure by $1 million and record a $500,000 profit. "Simplistically, we've got 34,000 members where at the same time last year we had 22 (thousand)," Arocca says of the gains made so far. "I would be equally simplistic if I thought that was the end of the battle."
He estimates 3000 of those don't actually support North, but didn't want to see it disappear either. But he reckons the number of fans in the 25-45 age bracket who are not paid up is several times that and, along with returning the club to its members, winning more than their moral support is his great challenge.
"The place is falling over with people in their 60s or over we've got 60 volunteers and I reckon the majority of them are over 50." The Roos also rank fourth for junior memberships, but the disconnect in the middle hurts.
Aub Devlyn, a North trainer for 30 years, remembers the day former boss Ron Joseph sat everyone down and detailed a merger offer from Carlton and said they could "go up there tomorrow if we want". They were only a week away from going to Melbourne, too. Now, he's seen his club get back its name, and a decent helping of dignity.
Simpson is not worried what his club is called, but says "some of the stalwarts around here are rapt that it's the North Melbourne Football Club". The jumper, he says, is the touchstone. "It still means the same things."
Much is out of his control, but he can influence onfield success, and knows it remains vital. West Coast might win only two games this year, yet still make a profit; Simpson is well aware a similar slump would cripple North, perhaps forever.
He says the players were extremely positive about the decision to stay in Melbourne.
"The alternative wasn't shocking, but at the same time, we'd have lost so much. To die wondering would have been tragic." And would have robbed them of the chance to roll the dice on a retro revolution.