Another year, and another season down the gurgler for Gold Coast. Another season that was travelling well, but punctured. Another season where the Suns had all the favours – a healthy list, a dream draw and a core of players seemingly in their prime. Another season where they fell in a heap any time they printed out a boarding pass.

What makes the Suns all the more frustrating is that they’re capable of brilliant football. Look at the way they put Richmond to the sword in the first half hour of the season. Look at what they did to Geelong on a sticky night in Darwin. Look at the win over Essendon, which was a cracking game. And look at the way they dug in against Collingwood. They were headed that night and Nick Daicos was cutting them to pieces. Every Suns team in the history of the club would have turned up their toes. Their pitiful performance against the Pies the previous year probably cost Stuart Dew his job. This time they rallied, they kept attacking, they kept their heads, and they finally earned something verging on trust.

But they just don’t travel. The losses to St Kilda, North Melbourne and West Coast have been unforgivable. They had the Eagles game in the bag at the weekend, and they got the jitters. As always, they butchered the ball heading into their forward 50. As always, the coach was frustrated and bewildered.

Damien Hardwick surely expected better than this. When Bob East and Mark Evans were courting him in Italy, he did some quick Googling on the state of the list. He had seen the best of them during his time at Richmond. One of his first public statements was how they were ready to contend right away. He was loving life away from Melbourne. “You come up here and it’s a magical place,” he said.

It was the money, the long contract, the chance to get out of the Melbourne footy fishbowl, and the chance to start afresh with a new partner, a new suntan, and a new club that swayed him. But ultimately, it was the list. “A great new bunch of toys”, he called them.

At the draft, he was up on stage like the cat that got the cream. How good is this, he was no doubt thinking. The Suns draftees all looked good. In Jed Walter’s case, he looked straight off the peg. It was all laid out before Hardwick, like a magic carpet. What could possibly go wrong?

Hardwick had just come from a real football club, with loyal, passionate and truly invested supporters. His new club would be the opposite. This is a club that has never had success. This is a club that farewelled its previous coach with a press release that read and looked like an In Memoriam notice. It’s generous calling it a club at all. It’s a program. It’s a place, not a club. And for too long, it’s been a place young players haven’t got out of quickly enough.

When Dew was sacked last year, Gil McLachlan said on his weekly radio slot that “it feels like a club that has decided to grow up”. He said it was “a hard-edged football decision”. But sacking Dew and courting Hardwick was easy. The hard bit is on the players now – to prove they are not just franchisees, to prove they can win anywhere in Australia, and to prove this football club isn’t a waste of time, money and talent.