There was an eerie stillness in Subiaco as the loyal hoards of Fremantle supporters made their way towards the match. You half expected the pre-match entertainment to be a couple of tumbleweeds drifting across the ground, perhaps even a shopping bag caught in the wind.

There was no buzz of excitement, no rush to get into the stadium, just quiet. When you're team has been in front so often, and lost by so many narrow margins, going to the game is like arriving at the bus stop 2 hours early – lots of busses might come along in that 2 hours but there is no point getting your hopes up until that last minute.

Port Adelaide supporters, of course, have taken a different approach to their team's misfortune over the years – they just don't show up; but credit where it's due, the 8 Port Adelaide supporters managed to hook themselves up to some sort of harness which allowed them to carry 12 different flags each, and when the ball fell on Brendan Lade's foot early in the opening minutes, they shook them like mad.

The Freo supporters weren't all that worried. They sat back and soaked it all in, refusing to get caught up in the to and fro of the game.

As the umpires made a mockery of the holding the ball rule, the crowd refused to be drawn in to a fight. When Josh Carr was roughed up in the centre they refused to be drawn in. Even when Aaron Sandilands threw his 211 centimetre frame into the air and got a sit on Dean Brogan's jaw, they may have flinched for a second, but quickly withdrew from getting emotionally involved. Even when he kicked the goal.

When Pavlich stood tall amongst a flame of Port players to take a mark, and then kick between the two posts, there may have been some smiling in the cheap seats but it was quickly stamped out after the lead was wiped out when Ryan Crowley slipped over and Motlop made him look like a goose, with a Port Adelaide goal.

With Aaron Sandilands running riot once again through the centre, roving to his own rucking and marking his own kicks, Rhys Palmer getting anything Sandilands left behind and Luke McPharlin doing his utmost to bring the cavillerity back to his defence there were a few people in the crowd who started to have thoughts about breaking ranks. Sure, it was still a couple of hours early but maybe the bus they could see coming actually was the Number 2.

When Heath Black's raking left foot made a long awaited return to the forward line, Jeff Farmer taking a stunning mark and kicking truly; and Aaron Sandilands getting on the end of a 193 metre drop punt from Pavlich to kick the biggest goal in the history of the game there were a growing band of supporters, willing to risk it all and get swept up in the moment.

When the quarter time siren sounded and Fremantle sat 3 goals up on Port Adelaide, most settled back down again. Sure, they were three goals up but the line graph that Jeff Farmer had knocked up on his computer and emailed around to the supporters showed that Fremantle needed to be 1 goal up for every minute left of play. They were still a long way from home.

Down a man, after Salopak, unable to take a bump from Dean Solomon, gutlessly split Chris Mayne's head open like the Adventure World Skull, the Dockers continued their season pledge to improve the fitness levels of goal umpires. Motlop kicked another goal but still the Fremantle supporters restrained themselves from getting invested in things.

But, while they had promised themselves they wouldn't get caught up in the excitement of the game, there was no such promise about telling Ray Chamberlain that he's a *************** and he can stick his ************ up his ***************.  Particular not in this instance, where he called back a Fremantle goal because he reckoned the ball being put onto the boot of Kepler Bradley was incorrect disposal. As the boos echoed around Subiaco Oval and much of inner city Perth, the Fremantle players argued their case with the umpires and introduced them to some of the local colloquialisms, Port ran the ball down the ground and kicked a goal. It didn't end there though.

Fremantle players were gobsmacked. They couldn't concentrate. Heath Black and Josh Carr argued amongst themselves in the centre as to which part of the decision was the most incorrect; Chris Tarrant and Matthew Pavlich re-enacted the events in the goal square; Luke McPharlin had gone out the back to pen a letter to the umpires advisory board so he could make the 4 o'clock Express Post cut off; and Jeff Farmer pulled out his laptop and knocked up a Power Pont presentation that he was going to present to Mr Chamberlain at half time.

Unfortunately, there was still a game of football going on while the Fremantle Academy continued its debate. Port Adelaide, not ones to partake in the betterment of the game themselves, continued to play, kicking six goals for the quarter to Fremantle's six behinds (and 4 out of bounds on the full).

Port had taken a three goal deficit and nearly turned it into a 3 goal lead doing nothing to ease the minds of Fremantle supporters, unsure whether to put their faith in the choke having happened, to rely on Port Adelaide's choking skills to now come to the forefront or to just continue with their first half strategy of drinking until the hurt stops.

A still quiet, yet much drunker crowd returned to their seats for the start of the third quarter. The bus's arrival was a ways off yet but there was still some support for Antoni Grover when he found himself up forward and booted the Dockers first goal since the Number 31 Double Decker rattled along late in the first quarter.

It wasn't pretty footy though. Pleased with a two goal lead, Port were continuing their policy of bringing back the flood and Fremantle's solution seemed to be to kick it to the bloke standing on his own in a spot where Port didn't feel it necessary to defend. Yet, despite a forward line meaning little more to Port Adelaide than a queue to meet the guy who wrote the introduction to the latest Thomas Keneally book, they managed to scramble through two more goals.

Choking was one thing but just losing was something Fremantle supporters just hadn't come equipped to deal with (that was going to take clear spirits). People started to panic.

It was, however, a poorly timed deviation from the pre-game strategy to not get involved. Just as things looked too bad to keep looking, Fremantle straightened themselves up. They started forcing their way down the middle, up the corridor and through the guts.

Standing at full forward trying to remember if that's where he was playing or if he'd just chased his man down the ground in the flood, Luke McPharlin picked up the footy, half thought about handpassing backwards to someone standing on their own in the pocket, then came to his senses, spun around and booted a goal.

They started to hit their stride. Scott Thornton, with a similar quandary about where he was playing, grabbed the footy at half forward when he was jumped on by a Port Adelaide playing screaming ' Hi-yo Silver'. A rare free kick was paid, Silver kicked true and Fremantle were away.

A goal from the lead, the crowd were giving everything they had to not reacting but when Ryan Crowely weaved through seven Port players, snapped a goal and levelled the scores, they caved. Jumping to their feet and calling the boys home.

When Pavlich marked in the centre square and unloaded with a huge kick, the cheered it for every one of the 243 metres it travelled as he put them a point in front. The Wiz got in some of the action too, kicking Fremantle two points clear as they went into the final change.

Now, despite being an accomplished player and coach, Mark Harvey is a student of football and a student of football coaches. He knew his team had lost the last 4 times in a row that they'd been in this position. He knew that something special was required.

Taking a leaf out of Mark Williams book, he took his players away from the bludging supporters they normally stand in front of during the breaks and took them over to the umpires race. The loudest, foulest mouthed, most abusive supporters in the club. They've trained themselves over 14 long years at abusing the umpires after disgraceful performance after disgraceful performance. There, they spent the next five minutes getting berated, just in case they'd gotten ahead of themselves.

Despite the rumours, he's not just a stick man though and, before sending them out to battle, Harvs took something from Mick Malthouse and tweaked it a bit to his own experiences to rev the boys up - “He who risks getting gobbed in the face, dares to score a free drink at the Espy”.

Inspired by his words, they took to their positions. Pavlich into the centre, the forward line stacked with McPharlin and Tarrant, Aaron Sandilands mouth still dripping with blood from the live sheep he'd eaten during the break. This was it. This was going to be the turning point. They weren't going to give it up this time.

But apparently they were.

Motlop kicked a goal that suggests God is still angry at Fremantle for not getting the footy jumpers blessed by a Catholic. Ibbotson replied with a brief moment of excitement but it was all one way traffic after that, Port kicking the next 5 and Fremantle breaking a record that it's hard to believe they even had the stat for.