As a West Coast tragic, I have three words for long-suffering Fremantle fans whose club is making a rare appearance in September: go the Suns.

Before those pietistic purple army supporters choke on their overpriced acai bowls, it was Freo’s favourite son, Nat Fyfe, who amusingly announced he couldn’t bring himself to back the Eagles in the 2018 grand final.

All’s fair in love and football: Michaela Taliangis, Brendan Foster and Luke Rees.

That’s because Fyfe understood the unwritten rule of any sporting rivalry: you don’t soften your animosity towards the bitter enemy under any circumstances.

But hordes of Eagles nuffies have recently taken to social media and talkback radio, gleefully declaring they will be “getting behind the state” and barracking for the Dockers during the finals.

There’s a special place in purgatory (beside climate change deniers and readers of the Fifty Shades trilogy) for those fair-weather fans.

I can’t simply abandon my lifelong loyalty to the Eagles and dismiss reality by pretending the Dockers exist in a fantasy world of state-of-origin football, even for a few weeks in spring.

It’s a national competition.

I have no allegiance to the state, other than........

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