Lynden Dunn arrived at Melbourne the year before Nathan Jones, Colin Garland a season later. In the decade since, all around them has changed – coaches, players, administrators, headquarters. Jones is even on his second property steward.

There has been enough misery and loss for a catalogue of Leonard Cohen songs (Jones has played a remarkable 205 of a possible 210 games since his debut, yet won only 50 of them). But to hear him talk of where his beloved Demons are going, the palpable sense that things are finally coming together, should put a song in every heart that beats true for the red and the blue.

"I'm really passionate about the club, I love the club, never considered leaving it," he says. "I want to see it be great again, I want to lead that, be captain of that. That's why I come to train and play every day, every week. I can see that happening from the inside."

Jones doesn't like raking over the past, yet there's nothing like a walk on the wistful side to sharpen your perspective.

The Demons' first pick (at 12) in the 2005 draft, he walked into a club that trained at Junction Oval, was run out of offices at the MCG, spent pre-seasons on the Trinity sports grounds at Bulleen and recovery sessions at MSAC in Albert Park. Completing the nomadic picture, for two years he continued living with his parents in Mornington.

"I didn't have a licence, was only 17. My girlfriend [now wife Jerri] would drive me to Travis Johnstone's house in Chelsea, he'd drive me around all day then drop me back at his place. Sometimes I'd stay the night or Jerri would pick me up again." Occasionally he'd use a Cabcharge. "A taxi from the Junction to home was 130 bucks!"

In the beginning, a footballer's life was too good to be true. He had 17 touches on debut in Adem Yze's 250th game, played finals in his seventh and eighth, was living the dream. He'd grown up a St Kilda supporter, and before a victorious Friday night elimination final against the Saints appeared in the paper with childhood hero Robert Harvey. "He was playing his 18th season and 340th game, I was born the year he debuted."

He notes that it's "well documented the club lost its way a bit" in the gloomy years that followed. Neale Daniher had been at the helm for eight seasons and five finals campaigns when Jones started; in the decade since he's played under seven coaches and not finished higher than 12th.

He smiles at the thought of people saying, "Jeez, you've been around a long time!"

"I'm actually not that old, still only 28. I'm in the prime of my career! My looks obviously don't help."

Only recently has he come to appreciate how bad things were, a watershed prompted by the seismic shift since Peter Jackson became chief executive and Paul Roos coach. "That's when I've noticed, 'This is what it should be like' - stable coaching staff, stable administration, everyone on the same page, footy performance first and foremost in all we do."

He could have gone elsewhere but says chief among reasons for staying was an unease at how he'd live with himself if he didn't dig in, see out the bad times and be part of the good. As a 21-year-old newbie in the leadership group he'd sat in meetings hearing of the latest off-field upheaval, thinking "What the hell's going on?" He's in no doubt lamentable on-field performance was the sorry byproduct of overall instability.

Jones felt a semblance of consistency under Dean Bailey, then the malaise set in again. Bailey's end came after a 186-point loss to Geelong, yet he remembers a 148-point MCG defeat by Essendon in the Mark Neeld period as even more grim. "Booed off the ground by our fans, that was probably worse than Geelong."

Through cataclysmic change - 40 players turned over in three years, a tanking investigation, the seemingly endless administrative and coaching merry-go-round - he bunkered down and narrowed his focus to the one thing he could control: his own game. "To be honest I've completely wiped a lot of it from my memory."

Yet he couldn't hide from the groundhog day drudgery of defeat. "It scars you mentally when you don't win. I'd be flat as, low as low, then somehow find a way to get back up again and play the next week. And get beaten down again.

"I'm super competitive, I f---ing hate losing. We got to a point where we didn't think we could win. Now we think we can win."

Key to attitudinal change was Jim Stynes, who Jones says sold hope - "to our fans, to the club, to the players ... he put football first". His belief in the power of communication - understanding, hearing, listening - is central to his powerful legacy. "It's something we've almost practised as a club - the more honest you are, the better feedback you get, the clearer things become, the less unsure people are."

Their relationship informed his own leadership, which he admits needed work. "The way I got through that shitty period was just to worry about myself, make sure I could be proud of my own performance. But I came to realise that if I was going to be part of change I had to come out of myself, share my experience and knowledge, offer up feedback rather than just keep to myself."

Now he embraces the role of mentor, knowing how much he wants to taste success and that driving the fast-tracking of his young teammates is crucial to that end.

All around him Jones sees sustainable foundations - the framework Roos, the coaches and Jackson have established to teach game style, mould culture and drive standards; the recruiting of players with a common thread of competitiveness; a preparedness to back the young no matter where they were taken in the draft.

"The footy program is like nothing I've seen in my time here ... how committed our coaching staff is to developing young players, not sitting around waiting for them. Age is no excuse, experience is no barrier."

He appreciates all who have steered his course, starting with Daniher, who challenged his professionalism at the end of his first season and was immediately rewarded as Jones was runner-up to James McDonald in the club champion award aged 19. "My memories of him are great, I still love seeing him and chatting to him now."

David Neitz became captain when Jones was in primary school and still when he arrived. His impact on a self-described "bit of a smart-arse" has stayed with Jones. "The figurehead, the powerful presence he had ... it was intimidating, but now I look back and see what a tremendous leader he was."

His learning hasn't been confined to football. In Aussie Wonaeamirri and Liam Jurrah he shared a workplace with men from remote Aboriginal communities whose assimilation challenges put any difficulties a kid from Mornington might have had in the shade.

Jurrah barely spoke when he arrived at the club, Wonaeamirri wore his connection to traditional culture with open pride. Jones rates travelling to the Tiwi Islands for Wonaeamirri's father's funeral one of the most beautiful experiences of his life. "That's one of the saddest things about the club, not having those guys here any more."

Yet those who are embolden and excite him, as a shorthand appraisal illustrates.

Jesse Hogan: "Freakish talent. Ultimate competitive animal."

Jack Viney: "Same thing."

On Jack Watts, a close mate, he's more expansive: "He's one of the stories that I've loved. I've seen him deal with horrific criticism, some of it warranted, other times just due to his standing - the No.1 draft pick, the position the club finds itself in, the pressure that's on his shoulders."

A little like the club itself? "One hundred per cent."

He bundles the future brigade — Clayton Oliver, James Wagner, Josh Harmes, Jayden Hunt, Angus Brayshaw et al — together.

"I do feel old. I just love all those boys, you could rattle off 15 of them. Their attitude and hunger and will to be good, that's what's making us improve quickly."

Much as he hates losing, Jones has been heartened even in defeat to North Melbourne and the shock loss to Essendon that the Demons have at least been true to their commitment to compete and give themselves a chance every week. Last weekend's Collingwood game and Sunday's Anzac Eve clash with Richmond have had a genuine big-game feel he's known all too rarely.

The Bulldogs, Port Adelaide two years ago, even Geelong and Hawthorn at the start of their modern premiership runs have highlighted for "Chunk" Jones how quickly a club's fortunes can change when the right building blocks are in place. "I take hope from that. Whether it's this year, next year or the year after, I've still got hopefully six years of footy left.

"I can be right in the middle of that, providing I continue to drive it. I know what we're doing is right, and I believe in it."