THE mood had been gloomy all week. And you could understand why. We were to take on Geelong on its home turf and it looked set to give us another belting.

The year before, 1991, we had travelled south and the Malcolm Blight-coached Cats had handed us a 101-point thumping. That night, a shattered plane load of Brisbane Bears flew home licking our wounds.

The next year, the Cats came up to Carrara. We were set for them. In my wisdom, I decided to let our fearsome leader Roger Merrett contest the opening centre bounce. Roger was our centre half-forward, of course, but by having the big fellow charge in at the start was a sign that we were "on".

With adrenaline pumping, Roger charged. He leapt, missed the ball, his opponent and buckled his knee on landing. As he was carried off on a stretcher, I wondered whether anyone in the history of league football had played less game time than my captain's five seconds.

Geelong went on to kick a record AFL score that day. The Cats' 37 goals 17 behinds (239 points) still stands as the highest tally ever. Bill Brownless, Gary Ablett snr, Barry Stoneham, Paul Couch and Mark Bairstow, just to name a few, had a picnic with the Bears.

So now it was 15 weeks later, round 22, 1992. Blighty's boys couldn't wait for the finals to start. Mine couldn't wait for the season to end.

We had won four games, which was one more than the season before, but to come up once more against a team that toyed with us was hard to stomach. From the time we'd left Queensland — on the plane, at the hotel, on the bus and now in the change rooms — there had been a funereal atmosphere.

Something had to be done. The first instruction was to put a ban on wearing long-sleeved jumpers. More than half the team had them on, and some with a short-sleeved jumper pulled over the top of the long sleever.

The boys had to be taken out of their comfort zone. The second instruction was given just before the players ran down the race. They were told to stand right alongside their opponent as the game was about to begin.

Then, as the umpire raised the ball and blew his whistle to signify the start of the game, they were to face their opponent and put him in a headlock. Nothing more was said. Most of the group turned white. A couple chuckled and smiled. And so they did it.

The Geelong players reacted as expected. They were unimpressed, and they aggressively and angrily tried to unlock their heads. Some slaps and sledges were exchanged, but now my boys were awake, alive and bouncing on their toes.

Our first half was competitive; the second, alas, was not. But at least we had shown some resistance, and that's what the Demons must do tomorrow when they travel down to Geelong to take on "Mission Impossible".

New Melbourne coach Dean Bailey has to push on with his game plan of run-and-share through handball. He would have spent all summer giving reasons as to why he wanted to play that way, and hundreds of hours of strategies training would have been invested.

Despite a couple of substantial beltings, the coach has to "keep the faith" in his game plan. It was pleasing to see last week that Bailey didn't flood his defence as the Bulldogs took control.

If he chops and changes plans, his players will lose faith and confidence in him and his message. As the saying goes, if the coach starts to fall for everything, he will stand for nothing.

Tomorrow, after the Cats unfurl their premiership flag, the Melbourne coach and his players have to focus on the process and not the scoreboard. They have to look at areas in which they have improved, broken even or even won.

It could be in clearances at ruck stoppages, clearances at kick-ins, limiting turnovers, marks inside 50, or time in possession. Bailey and his assistants should highlight the positives and have the players feel some good about themselves.

Imagine being a Melbourne player right now. Most in the football world think they are duds. The last thing they need is to feel that the coach has abandoned them, too.

Nevertheless, Bailey will be observing every move of his players on and off the field. Those who don't measure up will be culled. In my first year at Brisbane, 20 players departed the club.

A couple couldn't or wouldn't follow the coach's instructions. One punched out my team manager, another decided he would train only when it suited him. One liked the mirrors of the gym, not the training track, and felt comfortable because he believed he had a contract that said he couldn't be sacked. He was wrong.

So I imagine Bailey can't wait for tomorrow's game to begin. It's another chance for him to see who is fair dinkum. To see who is hungry, comfortable, coachable, non-coachable. To see who can and can't think. Who is a leader and who is a follower. Who gives up, who fights on. At the moment, the coach would have question marks alongside 90% of his players. Come tomorrow night, a couple of those question marks will be turned into ticks or crosses.