What keeps Fremantle's purple army going?

In the cold, hard light of day, supporting your favourite footy team is a deeply illogical exercise.

For six months each year, you place your mental health and emotional wellbeing in the hands of 40-50 players who wouldn't know you from a bar of soap.

Some of us have forked out tens of thousands of dollars over the years for the privilege of doing so.

It's questionable enough when it's a side that's delivered decades of success.

But investing such time in an organisation like the Fremantle Football Club often prompts the question: "Why do it to yourself? Why keep coming back each year?"

Ivo Da Silva flies in from Kalgoorlie-Boulder for every home game, while I've driven approximately 15,000 kilometres getting to and from games from my home in the South West.

In a week that's seen thousands of Fremantle supporters cross the state and country for just the second grand final in our history, it's a question the two of us thought we'd attempt to answer.

'From woe to go'

Ivo, born and bred in Fremantle, can present all the required credentials: support for South Fremantle in the WAFL; an education at St Patrick's Primary School and CBC Fremantle.

For me, a product of Perth's northern suburbs, it was sitting in the outer in 1996 with my brother, my dad and my grandad, somehow watching Fremantle completely dismantle Carlton, who were then just months off their 1995 premiership.

Peter Mann at centre half forward? Unstoppable. Scott Chisolm, the prince of pockets? Dynamic. The anchor. The rope crew. I was hooked.

Geraldton's David Shea definitely has the both of us beaten for road miles, routinely driving a 900km round trip over 15 years to get to home games.

"When I take on something, you take it on from woe to go, through the good and the bad, the ups and downs," he said.

"And there's been plenty of downs, when you're driving home on a Sunday night and you get thrashed and then you meet your fax machine in the morning from all my very good Eagle friends."

David watches more games at home these days, but has turned his house into a beacon for the Dockers.

He's apprehensive about tomorrow, but confident that if a win comes, it'll be the start of something special.

"Shut my blue and yellow [West Coast-supporting] mates up," he said.

"We must have three cups for a starter and then four cups and they will get reminded daily if we have one more cup than them."

Further south in Collie, Annette and Steven Annandale are part of a group routinely making the 400km round trip to home games via bus.

They were feeling confident as they flew out to Melbourne from Busselton on Thursday.

"I've tipped the Dockers by 15 points, I think it'll be a close game," Steven said, while Annette was anticipating some momentum swings.

"I think the third and fourth quarter will be ours, and we'll come out 16-17 points in front," she predicted.

In these high-pressure situations, superstition also comes to the fore.

Broome father and daughter Brian Saggers and Bianca Benioni were jokingly worried about wife and mum Angie.

"She's been banished from watching Freo games with us for a few years now," Ms Benioni said.

"When she is in the room with us, Freo starts to lose … when we kick her out, Freo wins again," Mr Saggers explained.

The prospect of a Fremantle flag, at a grand final party alongside all their friends and family, has the pair contemplating matching Dockers tattoos.

The little things

It's the moments like these, good and bad, that keep you coming back.

It's that first final in 2003, when the Freo chant rang out in the final quarter despite being down by six goals against Essendon.

It's Jeff Farmer, the one true wizard, kicking a goal after the siren to seal a game against Melbourne.

It's sitting through a wooden spoon season in 2001, only for a young ruck-forward from Koorda named Justin Longmuir to kick five goals against Hawthorn to keep us from going the year winless.

It's Nathan Fyfe going from a skinny kid out of Lake Grace to a superhuman playing some of the most sublime football we've ever seen.

And it's rising as one with the people around you, whether with 15,000 at the WACA, 25,000 at Subiaco or 60,000 at Perth Stadium.

For the "Wharfie Time" bell.

Or for those, like Milli Lucas and Cam McCarthy, who are no longer with us.

Faith and belief

But back to 30 years ago, September 1996, when Fremantle hosted Fitzroy's final ever game before their merger with Brisbane.

The rendition of Auld Lang Syne, sung by Perth soprano Sarah Macliver from the roof of the grandstand at Subiaco, still gives me chills when I think about it.

The devastation of the Fitzroy fans there also taught me that, as tough and frustrating as losing can be, having it all ripped away from you is worse.

For some Lions supporters, the merger was one betrayal too many, and they walked away from the AFL forever.

Others stuck fast, and have since experienced two eras of unparalleled success, culminating in tomorrow's bid for a second Brisbane three-peat.

Our road since then has had a few more detours, but the faith and belief that the good times will come is hard to shake.

It's surely no coincidence Fremantle coach Gerard Neesham's address to supporters, after his unceremonious 1998 sacking, came to be known as the "Sermon on the Mount".

"The best steel is made in the hottest furnace," he told supporters gathered in the outer at Subiaco.

Keep the faith, in other words, and the rewards will follow.

What happens tomorrow? The heart says Freo. That's all that matters; logic has no place here.

What I can guarantee is that we'll all be back for more next year.

It's what we do.

Additional reporting by Natasha Harradine, Chris Lewis, Neve Brissenden and Natasha Clark.