Discover the Untold History of Fitzroy Football Club's Rise and Fall

I still remember the first time I walked into the Fitzroy Football Club's old headquarters back in 1998. The peeling paint on the walls and the faint smell of liniment told a story that statistics never could. You see, Fitzroy wasn't just another football club—it was an institution that embodied the spirit of Australian Rules Football, yet its journey mirrors what my mentors at UST taught me about trusting the long and winding process of growth and never backing down in times of doubt.

The club's rise began in 1883 when a group of local businessmen pooled together £50—roughly equivalent to $8,000 today—to establish what would become one of the VFL's founding clubs. What many don't realize is that Fitzroy's early success came from embracing uncertainty rather than fighting it. They won their first premiership in 1898 with a squad that included six players who'd never played professional football before. That's like starting a tech company today with half your team being fresh graduates—terrifying, but somehow it worked. I've always admired that willingness to grow through uncertainty, something I've personally struggled with during my own career transitions.

Through the 1900s to 1920s, Fitzroy built what analysts would call an "unfair advantage"—they developed 42 professional players through their youth system while other clubs were still recruiting established talent. Their 1922 premiership team had an average age of just 21.3 years, the youngest in league history at that time. But here's where the story takes a turn—success bred complacency. The club's management became resistant to change, much like how organizations today get stuck in "this is how we've always done it" thinking. I've seen this pattern repeat in modern businesses—initial innovation gives way to institutional inertia.

The post-war period saw Fitzroy grappling with financial pressures that would foreshadow their eventual demise. By 1950, the club's debt had ballooned to approximately £15,000 (about $1.2 million in today's money), yet they kept operating as if the golden years would return. There's a lesson here about adapting to market realities that I wish more contemporary organizations would heed. I remember consulting for a traditional retailer that reminded me so much of Fitzroy's later years—clinging to legacy while the world changed around them.

What fascinates me most about Fitzroy's decline isn't the financial mismanagement—that's common in sports history—but the psychological aspect. The club leadership entered what I call the "certainty trap," where the fear of making wrong decisions paralyzed them from making any substantive changes. They rejected three separate merger proposals between 1986 and 1994, each offering better terms than the last. This reminds me of my early career days when I'd rather stick with familiar failure than risk unknown success—exactly what UST taught me to overcome.

The final merger with Brisbane Bears in 1996 wasn't so much a collapse as a slow erosion. Fitzroy's membership had dwindled to just 8,742 by their final season, compared to Collingwood's 38,500 at the same time. Yet even in their final years, they produced remarkable talent—five players from their last squad went on to become All-Australians. There's something poetic about that—even in decline, excellence persisted.

Looking back, Fitzroy's story teaches us that growth isn't linear and certainty is often an illusion. The club's greatest strength—their rich tradition—became their Achilles' heel when they stopped adapting. In my own work with organizations facing transformation, I've seen how the organizations that survive are those that embrace the winding path rather than fighting it. Fitzroy's 113-year journey, from humble beginnings to reluctant merger, embodies the complex reality that growth requires both honoring roots and having courage to change direction when needed.

The club's legacy lives on in unexpected ways—through the Brisbane Lions' triple premierships in the early 2000s using what was essentially Fitzroy's football DNA, and through the countless community programs their alumni continue to support. Maybe that's the ultimate lesson—that endings aren't always endings, and sometimes what appears to be a fall is actually a transformation into something new. I've come to appreciate that in my own career setbacks, and it's a perspective that continues to shape how I approach challenges today.