From a Western Bulldogs supporter's point of view, it was all about hope. That thing with feathers, wrote poet Emily Dickinson, that perches in the soul. Now we are all Doggies poets and dreamers, and drunks and happy campers, armchair experts, Norm Smith medallists and the best and fairest in town. Our team as high as they ever can be, as high as 1954 and not since.

What a feeling. Most supporters of most clubs know it. At least by osmosis. We don't: 1954 was a mighty long time ago. It feels great, right? Who knew.

As the real Norm Smith medallist, Jason Johannisen, said after the match – the running defender judged the best on ground during an incredibly tense tug-of-war with the Sydney Swans over all four quarters – "It's been a long time coming."

The feeling of hope and belief was there all week. I can't speak for those in Sydney or Swans supporters in Melbourne, those from that great old foundation community club of South Melbourne, but in the western suburbs it was electric, the colours everywhere, the atmosphere buoyant as if relief had already come.

The Bulldogs' open training on Thursday hosted 10,000 people, and the air was respectful and calm and grateful that we have these players and this coach and this spirit and dogged will to win at all costs at this time. Most of us quietly knew when we spanked the Eagles in Perth in the first final that it was on. Then Hawthorn. It was on. Then last weekend against Sydney's other team. Game on. No ins or outs, no team changes.

There is sadness and regret too, for Bob Murphy, the injured captain we love and the player who personifies our culture. He missed the game. He would have nailed it, though. But there is that hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll see him this time next year with his trademark sure marks and pinpoint field kicks.

He led the team into the Bulldogs' rooms afterwards, holding the premiership cup above his head.

Supporters, however, were stunned. What to say? All most could utter was a roll-call of the names who swamped the Swans and won us the premiership: Johannisen, Picken, Wood, Boyd, Boyd, Hamling, Daniel, Liberatore. Coach Luke Beveridge was there, surrounded, emotional, quiet, contained. Job done.

Staff of the club appeared stunned too. Past players Barry Hall and Brad Johnson embraced, and embraced again. Jake Stringer – who lost his dog Drax on Friday night, prompting a massive social media alert to find him – was surrounded by the faithful, his mouth not yet smiling, as if he too could not yet believe it.

But you know what? It felt this good all week. Die-hard supporter Nicole Moore, of Braybrook, a real grassroots supporter, never strayed from feeling calm, she told me.

Her mother and father met in the Bulldogs' cheer squad back in the day, and since round one this season her whole family has followed a game day ritual: Watch the movie The Wedding Singer before the match. Go to the same nail salon in Braybrook (her and her mother, at least, not the men of the family) to get them painted up in the colours. Drive twice around the block, then twice around the Teddy Whitten statue at his oval in West Footscray on the way to the city.

It worked in round one, the team won. And it worked on grand final day, the team won.

"I was super-calm all week," she said. "Usually I get nervous before big games but not this week. I always reckoned we had the wood on Sydney, and we did."