There are wins that tick a box on a premiership ladder, and then there are wins that realign the very universe of the Port Adelaide Football Club. Saturday night’s Showdown victory was the latter. For years, the faithful have sat in the stands of the Adelaide Oval watching a version of this club that felt sanitized, a version that seemed content to just give it a go and survive in the big moments. But over the weekend, we didn’t just see a win. We saw a resurrection. We saw tough, uncompromising, hard Port Adelaide football back where it belongs.
The buildup to the match was the perfect recipe for a capitulation under the recent standards of this club. The Crows were chasing a top 4 finish, the injury list was deep, compounded by three casualties the week prior that could have dismantled the playing group’s confidence. In years gone by, the narrative would have been written before a ball was bounced, an insurance policy of excuses ready to be issued to the media. Instead, coach Josh Carr and his coaching staff did something that has been sorely missing at Alberton. They built a wall of belief.
The contrast between the current mindset and the old regime was stark. We all remember when former coach Ken Hinkley famously looked ahead to the pressures of finals football and described massive fixtures as scary and hard to win. It was a language of doubt that trickled down into the players’ psyches for over a decade. Compare that defensive, anxious outlook to Josh Carr’s posture ahead of the weekend. Facing an avalanche of injuries and an underdog tag, Carr looked the football world in the eye and delivered the definitive Port Adelaide response, stating that he never doubted they could win it. That is the premium standard of a winner. That is the arrogant, beautiful self-assurance that defined this club long before the AFL existed.
Port Adelaide’s identity remains anchored in a foundational legacy, throwing the actions of a younger club into sharp focus. This dichotomy was highlighted when early goals from Josh Rachele and Taylor Walker prompted premature, adversarial celebrations directed at the crowd. To many, this display smacked of an unearned entitlement and an over-inflated ego, hallmarks of an organization still trying to manufacture the deep-seated tradition that Port Adelaide earned through decades of trial and tribulation.
The team ran out onto the Adelaide Oval wearing the iconic prison bars, the sacred jumper worn by the “Invincibles” of our past. It is a Guernsey that carries the weight of thirty-six SANFL premierships, and the sight of it immediately shifted the energy in the stadium. The Bring Back the Bars campaign did not achieve over forty thousand votes from the members just for the sake of nostalgia. Those forty thousand signatures were a collective line in the sand, proving that the jumper represents exactly who we are.
More than a guernsey, those bars represent a fierce “us against them” mentality born from overcoming adversity, forged in painful defeats and backs against the walls victories, and sharpened when the entire state fought to block our AFL bid. This win serves as a reminder to the current regime to lean into our history, our traditions and our demands for success and to remember to stay humble in remembering the deeds of those that came before us and the path to success that they left us.
It stood in strong contrast to the teal abomination the club trotted out the week before in a dismal loss. We were gaslit by corporate voices at the club that the fans had demanded the teal look, when in reality, many of the true supporter base wanted nothing to do with it. 40,000 supporters love the prison bars because they demand greatness, not a marketing department’s compromise. Seeing the players stand tall in the traditional black and white proved once and for all that history is our fuel, not a burden.
Wearing this Guernsey exclusively for Showdowns is no longer enough. Limiting the black and white to local derbies treats our identity like a novelty act rather than our birthright. At an absolute bare minimum, the bars must be worn on ANZAC Day. This is not just about football; it is about profound respect. We must wear them to honor the brave veterans who died for our country and who previously played for the PAFC in that exact jumper. To run out in anything else on a day of such historical gravity is a disservice to the blood spilled for both the nation and the club.
Perhaps the most refreshing element of the entire weekend was the explicit shift in how the club views its own people. Following the final siren, both Josh Carr and Jason Horne Francis were vocal in their praise for the members, pointing directly to the crowd as a genuine source of inspiration that carried them over the line. For years, the previous regime chose to actively alienate the people who pay the bills and bleed for the colors. We were told our passion was just white noise and external noise that needed to be blocked out. To be treated like an inconvenience by your own club was a betrayal of the highest order. Carr and Horne Francis reminded everyone that the crowd is the heartbeat of the club.
The members were right all along. They were right to demand that we retain the history and tradition of the PAFC. They were right to demand that everything at Alberton must focus entirely on winning and playing ruthless football, rather than just existing to satisfy an AFL franchise template. The traditional, never say die, us against them ethos is what took this club to the absolute top of Australian football. It is an incredibly powerful force, and Saturday night reminded us that even in the modern, sanitized era of the AFL, that hostile mentality is as relevant and effective as it has ever been.
True success will only return permanently when accountability starts right from the very top of the organisation. We need a board that is completely accountable to the members, answering to the people who care about premierships rather than corporate comfort. This Showdown victory was a beautiful, ferocious reminder of what Port Adelaide can be when it honors its roots and it’s members. The noise is not external. The noise is us, and it is time the club started listening every single week. Credit to Josh Carr for doing his part.
Leave a Reply