Hope made a brief stop in Fremantle this weekend. After 9 losses in a row and a terrible opening quarter, a spray from Ross Lyon looked to have shaken the incompetence out of the Fremantle players and finally brought them back to life. They fought back ferociously in the second quarter, tackling hard and getting back into the game on little more than heart and few litres of Lachie Neale's blood. It wasn't the sort of performance that would see them handing refresher lyrics to the team song around but it was a good start. Then the third quarter came along and it wasn't a Fremantle we haven't seen for some time, they forgot the game plan and started playing the game on instinct. It was a thing of beauty as they carved the St Kilda midfield up and made the most of their forward line to turn their 28 point first quarter deficit into a 24 point lead. But something happened at the three quarter time break, they hit the wall, Ross stopped yelling at them, or perhaps someone added grog to their sports cordial. The signs were there straight away. They stopped playing like their season was on the line and went back to playing like they got paid either way. St Kilda ran over the top of them and the final margin had all the hallmarks of a pantsing.