The question of how a storied club like Hawthorn can rebuild its winning culture for the future is one that fascinates me, both as a lifelong student of the game and as someone who’s seen organisational turnarounds in other fields. It’s a complex puzzle, but I believe the blueprint isn’t always found in the obvious, top-tier franchises. Sometimes, you find the most instructive lessons in the underdog stories, in the quiet, deliberate builds happening elsewhere. Lately, I’ve been drawn to the narrative unfolding with Blackwater in the PBA. Their journey, particularly over the last few seasons, strikes me as a potent case study in cultural regeneration, one Hawthorn would be wise to examine closely.
Let’s be clear, Hawthorn’s legacy is immense—a dynasty built on a ruthless, defensive system and an almost mythical belief instilled by legends like Clarkson. But that era has passed. The challenge now isn’t to resurrect a ghost, but to architect a new, sustainable culture that can thrive in the modern game. Watching Blackwater, a team long considered a league easybeat, their moves have been quietly brilliant. They didn’t just go for one big star; they assembled what I see as a coherent, intriguing quartet. The entry of Dalph Panopio alongside Sedrick Barefield, Christian David, and RK Ilagan wasn’t a random collection of talent. It was a statement. It’s about blending youth, energy, specific skill sets, and, crucially, players with something to prove. This is where Hawthorn’s list management needs sharp focus. It’s not just about drafting the “best available” in a vacuum; it’s about drafting and trading for players whose personal drive aligns with a collective hunger. Finding those characters who are wired for the grind of a rebuild is more than half the battle. I’d argue Hawthorn needs to prioritise this “prove-it” mentality in every acquisition, much like Blackwater seemingly has.
But a winning culture isn’t built on paper. It’s forged in the grind between the official fixtures. This is where Blackwater’s preseason really caught my eye. Their good run at the Kadayawan pocket tournament title and those tune-up victories weren’t just practice. They were critical, confidence-building steps. They created a narrative of progress, a tangible “proof of concept” for the players and the fans. For Hawthorn, this translates to a relentless focus on the process in every training session, in every VFL game, in every internal metric. They need to create and celebrate small wins that are invisible to the public. Did the defensive system hold for 85% of the game instead of 70%? That’s a win. Did the young midfield group win five more clearances than their season average? Celebrate it. These are the building blocks. The Bossing looked to have made significant progress during the preseason, and that momentum is a currency you can’t buy. Hawthorn must manufacture that same currency internally, every single week.
Now, here’s the hard truth, and it’s the same one Blackwater faces: the preseason is over. As the reference knowledge states, “this is the actual season now, and they will need to prove that they are for real in the games that matter.” This is the ultimate test of any cultural rebuild. You can have all the right pieces and a great summer, but culture is ultimately validated under the bright lights, in the fourth quarter of a close game. For Hawthorn, the “games that matter” might not be finals this year. Their “games that matter” are those where they are expected to be competitive—against mid-table sides, in derbies, in games where they can demonstrate a consistent, hard-edged brand of football regardless of the scoreboard. It’s about showing that the new habits stick under pressure. If they can string together, say, 8-10 quarters of elite-pressure football across a month, that’s a more meaningful indicator of cultural shift than a fluky win.
From my perspective, Hawthorn’s path back requires a dual focus. First, an almost scientific approach to list building, seeking out that specific blend of talent and temperament. Second, and more importantly, a fanatical dedication to process over outcome in the short term. They must become a club that values the “how” more than the “what.” It’s a long road. Blackwater’s journey reminds us that progress isn’t linear; there will be setbacks. But if Hawthorn can instil that same sense of collective purpose, if they can find their own version of that intriguing quartet and back them with a system that turns preseason promise into in-season identity, then the foundations of a new, enduring winning culture will be laid. The future won’t look like the past, and that’s okay. It might just be built on the same gritty, proven principles we see being tested elsewhere, right now.