THE FANS were ready to rumble, armed with "no Gold Coast" placards and the righteous indignation of Roo believers. But the board had already given them what they wanted. It was all over before the shouting. North would stay south.

They wanted 12 months of think music. Yet, the decision was made in a few hours, and the new North order took shape faster than the post-election Liberal Party. The Gold Coast would become someone's else's backyard. The invention of an unwieldy 17th team at Carrara — the New Bears? — is now a distinct possibility.

The departing Kangaroo board has made arguably the most significant decision in the club's 138 years. More important than the hiring of Ron Barassi, the move to the MCG in 1984, the floating on the stock exchange or the signing of a 15-year-old Wagga kid called Wayne Carey. Spurning the Gold Coast is one of those calls that defines a club's destiny; in a decade, we will know whether they are Hawthorn in 1996, or Fitzroy in 1986.

Hawthorn fought the AFL's merger, survived and thrived. It is bullet proof today, protected by the generosity of the Tasmanian government and a stronger eastern suburbs supporter base. The Roys opted to stay in Melbourne, rather than relocate to Brisbane, and died — their remains sent north to the same destination.

Clearly, the Roos would rather die on their feet (in Melbourne) than live on their knees at the beach. For James Brayshaw and the people he represents the Gold Coast meant surrendering too much identity. Not only was it to be shunted off to Sea World, the AFL would have the power to appoint the bulk of the board and administration.

"There's no North Melbourne Football Club in that," said Brayshaw, who yesterday became the second Footy Show host to run a Victorian club.

Now, the club has retreated further into its Arden St roots, last night even agreeing to discard the disembodied first name, "the Kangaroos" and calling itself "North Melbourne" again.

It is to be hoped that Brayshaw, elected chairman unanimously, understands the magnitude of the challenge he and his revamped board confronts. If Eddie McGuire was attempting a regulation dive when he took the plunge at Collingwood, Brayshaw is trying a triple somersault with double pike.

There is now no tougher job in footy than chairman of the Kangaroos and the rock star reception Brayshaw heard last night won't count for much when the Roos are scratching around, trying to replace the millions the AFL has pumped into the club over the past few years.

Consider the club's position. It has a $5-million debt, and after 2009 will forfeit the $400,000 per game (net return) it is due to receive for four Gold Coast games. It is unclear whether the AFL will pull the pin on annual special assistance of $1.4 million without which the club would probably already be gone.

The Roos have the smallest supporter base in the league, despite being one of the most successful clubs of the past 30 years on the field. If this is testament to their spirit and football know-how, neither of those admirable traits have improved their financial position. Certainly, Brayshaw is not expecting Andrew Demetriou, a 100-game North Melbourne past player, to be sentimental about the club he represented; he thinks the league will pull the life support machine off and that the Roos will have to walk alone, as they should. Several times, Brayshaw said they had been excessive "welfare" recipients, and that the club must develop alternative revenue sources that are independent of head office.

People at clubs tend to be either realists or idealists. Brayshaw sounds as if he straddles those positions.

"This was on the verge of flatlining, on the canvas and out of the count," said the realist. "I suspect and am very confident, that we'll get a great reaction from the North Melbourne people," said the idealist.

The idealists have won this battle. The war has barely begun.