The Dogs, club of E.J. "Ted" (Mister Football) Whitten. The statue of him at Whitten Oval captures him kicking one of his legendary torpedo punts. There is no ball – it has landed somewhere beyond the western horizon. Some say the greatest player ever, also a showman. Captain-coach at 23. Took the Dogs to their last grand final in 1961.

Mister Football also visited the Tiwi Islands where his over-sized personality and mythic reputation made him right at home. When he died, the islanders commemorated him with his own pukumani pole. The spirit of Mister Football is at the Whitten Oval, it's in the Tiwi Islands – larger than life, vivid, grinning. The Dionysus of the western suburbs.

The Dogs, the club that traded a series of great players – many of them Brownlow medallists or future Brownlow medallists – just to stay afloat in the 1970s and '80s. Dempsey, Round, Quinlan, Wilson, Templeton, Hardie.

The Dogs, first club of young coach Michael Malthouse. The Dogs were footy's wild bunch. Malthouse made them purposeful. Under him, they made the 1985 preliminary final, their best effort since 1961.

Seven years later, coach Terry Wheeler again got them to a preliminary final. Wheeler was a football evangelist. Believing his players to be too introverted, he got them to do something they'd never imagined – parachuting out of a plane over Port Phillip Bay.

That same year, 1993, Wheeler invited me into the club to write a book and I saw what he was on about. The place was so quiet. Some time later historian Robert Pascoe gave me the clue to understanding why. Footscray originally had a strong Scottish influence. I'd lived in Scotland and heard the same silence there, the same restraint, which had then merged with the old Australian working-class belief that actions speak louder than words.

At the same time, a Dogs player who had previously been with Melbourne, Ricky Jackson, told me the Dogs didn't rush players back when they were injured like other clubs. There was respect for them as workers. In the 1930s, playing for the Dogs and being in a trade union were synonymous. Charlie Sutton told me a champion centreman once came to the club - when it was discovered he had once crossed a union line, he was told there was no place for him.

Club of Dancing Dougie Hawkins, western suburbs larrikin who Mick Malthouse says was the most talented player he ever coached. Club of Tony Liberatore, little man with a huge competitive flame and father of Tom. Club of Steve Wallis, exemplary clubman with a smile to die for and a hip and shoulder that could knock you senseless. Father of Mitch.

Club of Peter Gordon, the man who basically saved the Dogs in 1989 when the AFL tried to merge them with Fitzroy. A bulldog by looks and by nature. Club of Susan Alberti, pioneer of AFL Women's.

Club of Pat and Jenny Hodgson, a mother and daughter who attended every match and training session, whatever the weather, the year I was with the Dogs. I asked Pat what made the Dogs different. She thought it was a stupid question. "They're no different," she cried. "They're ours. That's all."

Club of Chris Grant, modest champion who would have won a Brownlow had the AFL bureaucracy not poked its nose in. Grant, who had a superb physique, was brave, mobile and extremely skilful. With the club on its knees in the early 1990s, Grant chose to reject a big offer from Port Adelaide after a young supporter offered the player his pocket money if he'd stay.

Club of captain Bob Murphy and coach Luke Beveridge. Club of Caleb Daniel, the player rejected by all the other AFL clubs simply because he was too small. The Dogs gave him a go and now he's a major force in their midfield. ("If you're that short," says Bob Murphy, "you've got to have everything else. Caleb's got everything else"). Club of young star Marcus Bontempelli, a name that might one day flow off our tongues like Barassi, Jesaulenko, Daicos…

Dogs, club of the west, originally Melbourne's industrial half, later a home for successive waves of migrants, now a mix which reflects 21st century Australia. Club of old diehard supporters and lots of excited new ones. Battling club with an authentic history rooted in a place going back well over a century. Their banner last week said they had 24 million people behind them. A few more have risen from their graves this week to join the chorus: Go Dogs!!!!