FACED with the choice between half a club and the possibility of none at all, North Melbourne chose the latter. It is a decision born of the admired and fabled Shinboner spirit: better to risk dying on your feet rather than live on your knees — in exile.

Who could blame the North people? Andrew Demetriou spoke of how the terms of the Gold Coast deal would guarantee that the Roos would maintain a strong presence in Melbourne. But North has the example of Fitzroy and South Melbourne to show how hollow that rhetoric is.

It was 10 years before the Brisbane Lions could bring themselves even to utter the name Fitzroy, for fear of alienating their new home town. When the Lions won their first flag, their chairman spoke hyperbolically of how they were a truly trans-national club, but it did not ring true, not as one premiership cup after another was packed away into the luggage hold of a plane. They are Brisbane first, the Lions second. Ditto Sydney and the Swans.

The league promised North regular games in Melbourne and revamped facilities at Arden Street. Presence, though, derives not from mere bricks, mortar and fixtures, but from a sense of belonging to, and growing with, a community. It is not possible to do that in two places at once.

There is in this argument a degree of semantics. I know Fitzroy people who gave up on the club at the time of the merger, have not been to a match since and remain embittered. I know other Fitzroy people who made the leap of faith. They are all good people, all true to themselves, all loyal in their own way. They are also irreparably divided, and that is sad.

History indicates that the battle North has chosen to stay and fight actually was won and lost a long time ago. To argue now from the standpoint of tradition, continuity and passion against the economic imperative is to fight with cavalry against tanks. It is noble, but it just won't work.

More than goodwill, North now desperately needs leadership, money and members. Its turnover is $22 million, Collingwood's nearly $50 million. North suffers most from that mystifying dynamic whereby support is not in the least indexed to success or its lack. North has figures to show that — pro rata — more of its supporters take up membership than any other club. Still, it has the second least members in the competition. It will not give up, but nor will the AFL.

I am not as cynical as some about Demetriou's stance. He is, after all, a former North player. As chief executive, he is doing the commission's bidding, and its bent for expansion is hardly a secret. Changing the conformation of the competition is always a fraught business, and Demetriou has handled this latest bid with more honour than some of his forebears.

But I am doubtful about his reasoning. The AFL must move into south-east Queensland, he says, because it is the fastest-growing part of Australia. This has a familiar ring. Once, the VFL believed it had to move into the south-east of Melbourne, the fastest-growing corridor. It built a vast stadium, but began to scale it down even before it was finished. Thirty years later, it is a housing estate.

The last attempt by the AFL to try to establish itself in the Gold Coast was an abject failure. The league says it has learned the many lessons of that experience, and that the Gold Coast is now ready. It says it will put a team there anyway.

But what about a stadium? Seemingly, the Queensland Government said it would provide the stadium if the AFL provided the team. The AFL said it could provide the team if the Government provided the stadium. Not for the first time, Victoria and Queensland didn't quite understand each other.

Then there was Gold Coast mayor Ron Clarke's extraordinary assertion on Thursday that by taking its time to make up its mind, North was insulting Gold Coast footy fans. Clarke is a sensible man, so I cannot fathom what overcame him. The AFL might owe the Gold Coast, but North does not. Small wonder it decided to make its own arrangements.

In Melbourne, North will remain small and vulnerable, but recognisably itself. It is characterised by success against the odds. In the 1990s, when one bad season would have been enough to wipe out the club, it made seven preliminary finals in a row. In 1996, destitute but bold as ever, it negotiated to merge with Fitzroy. But the AFL scuppered the deal and packed Fitzroy off to Brisbane, figuring it had killed two sick birds with one crafty stone.

All this took place mid-season. It ought to have been the end of North. Instead, it won the premiership, and another three years later. It is as heroic a feat as any club has performed in the history of the competition.

Powerful forces are again conspiring against North. Its task is onerous. Chances are it will fail; ultimately, the sweep of history will not be denied. But at least now nothing can be lost that was not already gravely imperilled. North Melbourne Football Club will live and die as North Melbourne Football Club, not as someone else's captive. This morning, North is what it is: alive, in the top four — and in North Melbourne.