I was a third generation Fitzroy supporter and one time Beta Max owner, so I know a thing or two about disappointment. 

Granted my beloved Lions season teeters on the ridiculous and closing out the season minus another win would see our club’s status downgraded from “unstable” to “Brexit” but all we need is a little inspiration. 

For some, inspiration might hide inside a bottle of peach schnapps or maybe it’s mornings in front of a Stefanovic that gets you up and about. The way I see it, the Lions need look no further than West of Sydney for their inspiration. 

Drummoyne? No, although The Oxford Hotel does a lovely Mushroom Risotto there, I’m thinking slightly further West. Keep going until you hit Spotless Stadium. That is where the glimpse into our potential future lies. 

Think Shiel, Greene, Coniglio, Devon Smith and co. Not so long ago in the AFL playground, these were the same kids that were getting pushed off the monkey bars by all the older clubs. Fast forward three seasons and this club is the one kicking turf into the faces (it’s only sand when they’re playing at Etihad) of so many of the other clubs now.

The lesson here is simple: Things change. Fashion, attitudes, hairstyles (although Trent Cotchin appears set to challenge me on this) and when change comes, it can come quickly.

Returning from someplace trivial in 2011, I saw these same lads at Brisbane Airport standing next to the father-like figure of Kevin Sheedy. Sheeds owned trousers older than most of his playing list that year. Wide-eyed, fresh-faced and clutching colouring books, they made me wonder aloud that day how long it might be before those wispy seedlings would take to bear fruit. Well, the very answer to my own question parades itself before me now.

Today, I am en route straight to the Gabba from the airport which means no time for an easily digestible lunch. Instead I am forced to settle for a Sausage Roll shaped tennis shoe smeared in what claims to have been a vegetable in a past life. I considered leaving the uneaten portion for the pigeon community roosting in the rafters behind me but I fear they too have standards, which would only make for an awkward exchange between us.

There is a lot to like about the GIANTS and just as much that we can learn from them.

The team, their support network and above all their culture are up and about. They have seemed determined from the outset to forge their own discernibly unique identity. The club song barrels along in a kind of Eastern European style that makes me want leap spring heeled from my seat like the drunk Uncle at a Cossack wedding, if only I had the knees for it.

And who’d have dared consider a jersey spruiking orange, barring the odd rogue Hari Krishna of course, anywhere near tribal enough for our game? The club opted to move away from the straight lines of the more traditional stripes and sashes and offered a more contemporary strip and, as it happens, I rather like it. 

The blueprint has been unfurled before us today and we should copy eagerly from its pages: They have size where they need it, speed on the outside, hard heads around the stoppages and multiple avenues to goal. Their clearance work is beautifully regimented. They are quick, bold and they move the ball with clinical efficiency. They have become everything that we should aspire to be.

Callan Ward, basking in the afterglow of a long range goal, waves off a runner brandishing two bottles. Outward appearances would suggest that neither is likely to contain shampoo or conditioner. That said, it does lend him a slightly brutish, Tarzan-like exterior. A quality his game has always possessed.

Mumford is big. I’m talking Game of Thrones big ... but not quick. Any slower and village women would gather to bang their wet laundry against him but he has undeniable presence. Fleet-footed minions buzz around him, safe in the knowledge that the ball will seldom fall far from his feet. 

Much of the Lions’ list offer a raw boned contrast. Hipwood and Andrews display talent but if they wanted to double their weight, they need only wear sunscreen. It is sobering to witness their toil in these conditions against better engineered bodies.

Today’s attendance is on course for a new low. It leads me to ponder how we get patrons back through the gates once more. Naming Pikachu on the half back flank might get a few thousand frenzied teenagers back for a short while but the long term solution appears more complex than that.

Ward, Coniglio and Kelly are best for the GIANTS.  Their precision and composure go unchallenged by the curtains of water draped across The Gabba after half time and Coach Cameron would have nodded agreeably at the scoring output of so many without either Jeremy Cameron or Patton clearly stamping their authority on the contest.

So what of finals for the GIANTS? Are they ready to journey deep into September action? I will let those with more pedigree than myself to more accurately ponder such things. What I know for certain is that although I don’t carry a whole lot of orange in my wardrobe, come September, I believe it will be my colour of choice.

Jamie Simmons is one of Fitzroy Football Club’s northern nomads, settling in Brisbane in '97. He is a keen student of the great Australian game but is “easily distracted” and “needs to apply himself more”. If he’s learned anything over the years it is that the two key elements to being an informed supporter are: a constant focus and he can’t remember the second one.

More stories and other fan-writing can be found on the GIANTS page at www.footyalmanac.com.au