“Give me 80,000 people at the MCG and I was Hercules,” Brent Crosswell once said. “Give me a grey day at the Western Oval and I wasn’t worth a cracker.” Crosswell, who probably would have won two Norm Smith medals if there was such a thing back then, would have been right at home in this Brisbane Lions team. They need a big occasion. They need the game to have weight. When it’s a sleepy shift in western Sydney or Tasmania, they drift. They drive their coach spare. When it’s all chips in, they are peerless.
This is Brisbane’s fourth grand final in a row. But it’s been seven years at the pointy end of the ladder. In that time, the competition has completely changed. The rules have changed. The way the game is played has changed. Their grand final opponents have all dipped in and out of contention. But the Lions have remained football’s great constant. They too have lost players. They too have shifted the way they play. But their excellence hasn’t waned.
