The Mens Thirds Reds saluted on Saturday, crowned Premiers of the VAFA Thirds Division 2. It's the club's first Thirds flag since 2012. 

Our correspondent -- and premiership player -- Harry Robertson filed this report from his vantage point on the ground.

At ten past nine on Saturday morning at Marcellin College, the national anthem rang out.

It had been a while since I'd last taken the song in, my eyes drifting either side as I stood flanked by 23 men I hadn't known until this year. Now locked arm in arm, we stared down our opposition, but I had a quiet confidence that whoever Old Melburnians were, it wouldn't change the outcome.

While some of our team had Fitzroy running through their blood, for others this year marked a return to the game. For some, like me, it was their first year at the club.

VIEW BERNARD WRIGHT'S MATCH GALLERY HERE

Whatever the background, our differences linked us. And having been given the final rev-up from coach Kane King, we were ready to go.

For the trio of Butler brothers, having played out a season together, a flag was the only fitting way to cap it off. Tom did our chances no harm, kicking the opener against the run of early play, which had our tails up.

Gus Conheady added a second a few minutes later with a running checkside from the right pocket — having initially looked for a better option, he delivered it capably himself.

George Hurley Wellington threw his 34-year-old body around to its limits, consistently crashing packs and fending off opponents with his glare alone.

Our interchange bench was free-flowing, players locked into their rotations and needing a spell, as the intensity of the final was significantly higher than when we'd last played the Melburnians.

It was lucky we had a bench at all given our injury list. We had enough going around to warrant our own team of specialist doctors.

A non-comprehensive record included: a fractured sternum, a pulled groin, a hip flexor strain, multiple hamstring strains, a busted shoulder, a dodgy knee, a broken finger, a staph infection, and a flu — which saw Josh Sawyer feverishly shaking on the bench, though it didn't stop him locking down his direct opponent all game long.

Going into the second quarter, our triumvirate of captains encouraged us to keep lifting. Doc O'Connor, Al Mulligan and Bryce McAdam had led with their actions all season and continued to do so, putting their bodies between the ball and their opponents time and again.

Coleman medallist Mike Sweeney stamped his mark on the game. Juggling a mark in the left pocket, he bewildered his man by playing on toward the boundary, swinging his magnificent right leg the way countryman Rory McIlroy might swing a driver down the fairway, and kicked a ripper. Had the game been livestreamed, his hometown of Marino in northern Dublin might well have erupted.

Liam Alexander rolled his ankle badly but demanded to play on, moving forward and continuing to cause headaches with his size and strength. His ankle would later be revealed to be fractured proving a testament to his sheer willpower.

As the half wound down, coach King could be heard murmuring, "Can't let them kick a goal here," hoping to carry a healthy lead into the break. Alas, the opposition kicked two goals in the final minutes, trimming our lead to seven points.

With his heart rate elevated and his mettle tested, coach King didn't stray from his tactics. Urging us to keep controlling the game and bring the cup back to Rammo, we ran out for the final half knowing what needed to be done.

Max Tieman continued to be a hero for us in the ruck, somewhat uncharacteristically urging "discipline" on his midfielders in an effort not to give away any cheap ones — before winning a 50-metre penalty and kicked a vital goal.

Ezra Janetski continued to cut a figure of grace and equilibrium, stifling opposition attacks and moving the ball cleanly the other way.

Some of the unsung heroes of our season shone brightest: Aiden Fry, Andrew Olsen, James Gosling and Sandy Moore, to name a few, doing the one-percenters and continuing to win the ball in dispute.

Still, our opponents had some fine players of their own, and we went into the last change with the game very much up for grabs. With the crowd now in full song, every Fitzroy man knew he had to leave it all out there.

Old Melburnians quickly cut the lead to three points, as we searched for a goal that might give us room to breathe.

Adam O'Sullivan and Sam Reeves had close shots on goal, with a strong wind keeping them out.

With time running out, the ball spilled to Kai Menzies, who threw it onto his right and twisted it home for a vital goal. 

Not since his namesake Robert won seven consecutive elections for the Liberal Party has a Menzies been so clutch.

With minutes to spare, the tackling level somehow increased. As a team we were locked in, throwing our bodies into the fray and willing to die for every inch.

It was ecstasy when the final siren rang out.

While thirds football is a far cry from some things in life, you could see on the faces of some of the Roys of how much it meant to be there.

Few get to play in a grand final, let alone win one. It's a memory all of us will cherish.

As coach King put it afterwards, it wasn't just won by the 24 who ran out, but the dozens who put on the uniform over the course of the season — those who came to every training session, supported the match days, and the staff who gave up their Saturdays.

Doc O’Connor rightly paid tribute to King in the rooms, for his tremendous coaching and all he’d done for the thirds program. His sentiment was echoed by all there.

“I would die for Kaneo,” said Anthony Bandalan.

It was a special day, whose glory was drunk well into the evening.