After a season that ended with just nine wins, equalling St Kilda’s lowest tally since 2019, you’d expect the mood around Moorabbin to be flat, maybe even laced with ambivalence. Not low enough to secure a prized draft pick, not high enough to challenge for September. Stuck in no man’s land again, the same old story of the Saints, you might say.

And yet, by the end of it all, at least at the time of writing this, there’s a sense that something bigger is beginning to stir. Dare I say even a form of newfound relevance.

Club president Andrew Bassat captured that feeling when he said: “If we are going to die, we are going to die with our boots on and not be scared to have a go. This is what we are about as a football club.” For many supporters, including myself, that line encapsulates the shift in tone. This club is finally having a genuine crack at being taken seriously and I am loving that. It’s not a finished product, nowhere near, but the optimism around the red, white and black feels more authentic than it has in years.

Where does that belief come from? Maybe it’s Nasiah Wanganeen-Milera’s right boot, which helped set sail to a famous after the siren winner against Melbourne. Maybe it’s the pen he used to commit his future to the Saints despite many saying he was gone. Could it be our high-flying blonde Alix Tauru clunking marks reminiscent of Trevor Barker or Nick Riewoldt? Or maybe it’s the promise of what’s to come…  the arrival of Tom De Koning and the prospect of further inclusions like Liam Ryan and Leek Aleer, maybe even more. Whatever it is, it feels different. And when the default setting for us St Kilda fans has so often been mediocrity and obscurity, even the possibility of “different” feels exhilarating.

That sense of difference isn’t just my perspective, it stems from the people around you. For me, it’s defined in the moments you share with other Sainters. It’s when you chat to a member who has followed this club for over 50 years and hear them say it’s the first time they’ve felt genuine excitement in decades. It’s seeing my uncle’s stunned face after the greatest three quarter time comeback in history. It’s scrolling through the comments online and realising how much Nasiah’s re-signing meant to people. It’s hearing the voice messages from supporters who were brought to tears when the news broke.

It might seem strange, to outsiders at least, for a fanbase to get so emotional over a single signature. But for us, it felt like a catalyst for change. For once, it wasn’t about a bad bounce, bad football, bad decisions, or bad luck, all the things that so often define our story. This was the opposite. This was what we’d hoped for.

At the heart of it all is a young core quietly building the foundation for the club’s future. These players are learning week by week, stepping up in pressure moments, and showing glimpses of their raw talent and resilience that could define the next era of this club. For the first time in a long time, there’s trust in this, not because the Saints are suddenly winning premierships or churning out top four finishes like clockwork, but because they’re backing up their words with actions. They said they’d target the draft, and they did. They said they’d fight to retain Nas, and they did. They said they’d explore free agency and trade opportunities, and they are. They said they’d challenge the AFL when necessary, and they have. Piece by piece, the plan is being honoured.

And if that plan comes off…  if being the operative word there… who knows where it might lead? Nothing is guaranteed in football, we all know that, but if you do enough right, you at least guarantee yourself a chance. Ross Lyon loves that line. For a club with just one flag and the longest premiership drought in the AFL currently, that’s all the supporters ask for: a chance.

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