When South Melbourne secured its eighth premiership in 1933, the team drew motivation from a well-known quotation by the jingoistic British poet and author Rudyard Kipling. It read:

It ain’t the individual,
Nor the army as a whole
But the everlasting teamwork
Of every blooming soul. 

Sandwiched between the two World Wars and entrenched in the depths of the Great Depression, the club’s 1933 flag brought untold joy to Bloods supporters. Though it was a very different time, one can draw parallels to the transformative events that occurred 72 years later, fuelled by team-first football.

The appointment of Paul Roos as the Swans’ senior coach in 2003 — powered by the people — generated a shared feeling of excitement and anticipation. But it’s choice, not chance, that determines your destiny. 

Roos and his players chose accountability. They chose honesty. They pursued respect, propelled by a relentless commitment to each other, and united unconditionally. Together, they chose to work harder than any opposition. They formalised a set of values and expected behaviours that became famously known as ‘The Bloods Culture’.

The night before the 2005 Grand Final against West Coast, Roos ushered his players into their Crowne Plaza Hotel meeting room for a pre-dinner address. So convinced that they were attuned to the expectations, Roos guaranteed a win — providing the team adhered to their values and stuck to their plan.

None better to articulate those values than co-captain Brett Kirk: “It’s hard to put a measure on it, but what you do know is that you have 100 per cent commitment and trust that the guys you’re playing with will sacrifice and do anything for you, that they’ll never let you down.”

When Stuart Maxfield led the players in gruelling knuckle pushup sets on the Driver Avenue concrete, they were all in. When someone turned up late to a meeting, the entire group endured a 6am punishment session. These Bloods were driven by their three chosen pillars. To be hard, disciplined and relentless.

It wasn’t only the players that strived for continuous improvement. Longstanding Swans chairman Richard Colless considers the appointments of Roos and Andrew Ireland, General Manager of Football, as the most significant during his 21-year tenure. In this context, the club’s decision to invest significantly in a world-class medical and conditioning program isn’t far behind. The entire club unified, solidifying the culture and its principles across every department, which fed into on-field success. The Swans prioritised character and leadership, seeking opportunities for competitive advantage at every turn.

I couldn’t help myself this week; I had to watch the replay. To a man, the Swans performed their designated roles. Kirk famously dubbed the midfield rivalry with West Coast as the “Swans’ Cortinas v the Eagles’ Ferraris”. In reality, the grunt work provided by Kirk, Bolton, Crouch, Mathews, and Ablett complemented the polish of Goodes, Williams, and Fosdike beautifully.

In defence, a fledgling Lewis Roberts-Thomson delivered an exceptional Grand Final performance. Australian football legend Stephen Silvagni worked closely with LRT throughout the year, and in the post-match television coverage, Silvagni spoke of his protégé with the same affection a father would, brimming with pride.

While on the family theme, during the lap of honour, the first Irishman to win an AFL premiership, Tadhg Kennelly, spoke live on TV to his loved ones watching from the family pub in Listowel, County Kerry. Later, he’d dedicate a celebratory podium jig to his treasured homeland.

Leo Barry’s lead-up to the game focused mainly on the health of his and his wife Sarah’s newborn son, Isaac, who was born six weeks prematurely. Testament to his dedication, he kept the Eagles giant full-forward Michael Gardiner goalless before soaring for that iconic match-winning mark. None of the seven players leaping in that pack ran further to get there than Barry.

He told The Herald Sun, “I literally tried to squeeze the air out of the ball; I had that strong a grip on it. I squeezed the absolute hell out of it.”

In the year South Melbourne became a senior football club, a local publication, The Footballer, provided the following advice for forward play: “Do not sacrifice the honour of your club for a chance of gratifying personal ambition.”

Rarely has a Swans team possessed the forward-line functionality and power like this. With Hall, O’Loughlin, O’Keefe, Davis, Schneider, Buchanan et al., danger lurked in every shadow. While this grandest of Grand Finals produced a low-scoring arm wrestle, these cohesive attacking threats flexed their considerable muscle.

Thankfully, forwards coach John Longmire didn’t need to apply The Footballer’s next set of instructive wisdom: “Remember if you ‘funk’ at kicking a goal from a mark near goal, you are not fit for the place — go somewhere else.”

The final-quarter heroics were as plentiful as they were critical. Hardness symbolised by Jude Bolton’s blood-soaked helmet. Discipline and grit were essential. Just watch the relentless, maniacal defensive actions of Amon Buchanan, inspired by his five brothers watching in the stands. The final 18 minutes of the 2005 Grand Final were goalless. Hand-to-hand combat dominated late proceedings, and this team, in every sense, relished it.

The collective, emotional response to the full-time siren surged through the Melbourne Cricket Ground that day. It spread to Sydney before infiltrating the loungerooms, pubs and clubs of the nation and, indeed, to Kennelly’s beloved Kingdom. Colless likened the noise inside the stadium to the shrill of a jet plane taking off.

Lionhearted ruckman Jason Ball, playing his final AFL game and inspired by the memory of much-loved Swans trainer Wally Jackson, put Schneider in a headlock and tackled him to the ground. Goodes and Kirk embraced in the colosseum’s centre, and legendary Swans figures like Skilton, Barassi, Weinert, Kimberley and Carroll shed tears of unadulterated joy.

Bloods Champion Michael O’Loughlin recalled, “The crowd that day was riding every bump and kick, and then when the siren went, they broke down. We all broke down.”

“Winning that flag was really for all our supporters and our people — especially all those from South Melbourne who’d been on that really tough journey. Our club has nearly been extinct several times. We had some tough, lean years and the strength of those people to keep the club alive, and our fans who kept paying their memberships and kept copping it from their mates, flying the flag. That is who the players play for.”

For the first time in a lifetime, red and white reigned supreme. Flags, banners, balloons, and confetti filled the landscape. The AFL’s CEO, Andrew Demetriou, who’d publicly lambasted Sydney’s game style earlier in the year, described the post-match scenes as reaching fever-pitch, provoking a forceful, widespread physical response.

In Jim Main’s salute to the 2005 premiership, Shake Down the Thunder, Swans Hall of Famer and one of the pioneers that moved to Sydney in 1982, Bernie Evans recalled gleefully, “I was with a block of about 10,000 Swans fans, and as soon as the crowd heard the siren, I was on my feet.”

“There were people in their 50s and 60s crying and kissing and hugging each other. It was unbelievable, and I must admit I had a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye. Some fans really broke down. It was one of the best days of my life.”

The players wrapped themselves in one another as their relief transformed into joy and then into an understanding of their accomplishment. On the victory dais, Kirk blared, “This is for the Bloods.”

Throughout the week, Roos had been mindful of maintaining his composure, whether in victory or defeat. Poignantly, former teammate Paul Kelly presented the cup, and following a typically respectful, measured speech, Roos paid tribute to the club’s long-suffering supporters: “For the people who’ve waited 72 years to see South Melbourne/Sydney Swans win the premiership, HERE IT IS!”

Roos told me, “It’s always going to be remembered as the first premiership in 72 years, and you’re never going to change that narrative. The number of people who contributed to that is just extraordinary. All the players and staff who represented the club during those 72 years, every one of them contributed to that premiership.”

Hours after the win, the Blood brothers, who’d achieved greatness together, gathered on the MCG, still guernsey-clad, for a celebratory photo they all cherish today. The party raged long and hard at the Crown Casino with memories of Barry Round-led sing-alongs living large.

In the following days, tales of unwavering generational support emerged, with the afterglow of the epic flag win settling comfortably over the Lake Oval and its surrounds. At the ticker tape parade in Sydney, immense, scarcely believable numbers turned out, including a father-son fan duo aptly named Sydney Swan, Sr & Jr.

The team’s Grand Final day banner proudly proclaimed Two Cities. One Team. Together Living The Dream. In many ways, the Swans’ unforgettable performance proved to be the culmination of a concerted effort to mend the fractures formed by the relocation to Sydney. In many ways, this premiership significantly altered the club’s trajectory.

So, 20 years later, we gather to pay tribute to a group of players that embodied what it means to be a Blood. When this team began formulating their trademark, Paul Williams declared in a meeting with leadership consultant Ray McLean, “Boys, we’re a blue-collar outfit. Everyone turns up ready for work, or we don’t win.”

Well, on Saturday, 24 September 2005, they put in one helluva shift. Together, they created something not only special but something truly meaningful. It’ll never be forgotten.