Paul Roos recounts the moments after steering Sydney to premiership victory in 2005

ON the Monday after the Swans won the 2005 Grand Final, the Herald Sun published this photo of me in the rooms.

Paul Roos took time out to gather his thoughts after the Swans reigned supreme in 2005. Picture: Colleen Petch

ON the Monday after the Swans won the 2005 Grand Final, the Herald Sun published this photo of me in the rooms.

It must have been about two hours after the game, but I don’t recall there being a camera anywhere near me. After a chaotic week — and year, really — I let my guard down.

The red-and-white party was just starting to hit full swing around Melbourne and Sydney and it was getting pretty rowdy out in the rooms. And for all the Bloods faithful, that party truly began when the realisation of what we’d achieved began to sink in.

For me, it was no different.

I went into that room just trying to find a quiet corner of the world. To contemplate. To gather my thoughts. To try to soak in what it was that we’d just done.

That was my first chance to sit and take a moment for myself. To think about how far we’d come and the sacrifices we’d made to be in that position — a moment of absolute reflection.

That photo probably sums up what every coach goes through in a Grand Final. It’s that moment of relief, exhaustion and excitement. It’s the total culmination of all the toil that’s gone to that point. It’s everything wrapped into one — the image sums it up perfectly.

For us, it worked out well that afternoon. But the following year, I sat in a room, again by myself, and started a post mortem I haven’t finished to this day.

You can’t help but think about the “what-ifs” — especially in such a tight game. You think about Andrew Embley taking that score-saving mark in the goalsquare in the dying minutes when we’re one point down. I wonder whether we got the match-ups right — anything really that can make up that point. That’s the difference in making history or not. The line is truly that fine.

This afternoon, the two best coaches in our game will have those same polarised views of what’s just unfolded. And it will happen instantly.

The winning coach and his staff will firstly experience enormous relief. Those in the vanquished box will just as quickly start to ask themselves questions.

I tried to rehearse winning and losing to try to cope with both possible scenarios. It helped me not be overwhelmed by it, so I could take in the after-match, see my wife and kids and as many of the people around the club who’d made it possible.

But as you walk down to the ground, that’s when it hits. Particularly for Fremantle and Ross Lyon not having won one, when you see that outpouring of emotion and how many people are so positively affected by it. Everyone is so emotional — for months afterwards you get letters and emails.

It genuinely impacts so many lives. That’s what you realise for the first time.

Both coaches are fairly analytical and rational after games. There have been some through the years who’ve got a bit wound up and not remembered it. But that won’t be these two.

For Ross, it would be the culmination of his career. He transformed the culture of St Kilda into a winning team, took a bold risk going west and was under enormous heat when he arrived.

But he’s now turned them into a great football club, too, and I think most people in football respect Ross as being a great coach.

This would be the crowning glory and pinnacle of his coaching career, but he’s a selfless guy who’ll deflect any praise and attention to others in the organisation.

Should Freo lose, naturally he’ll endure enormous disappointment. He’ll ponder all his moves and dissect the game over and over again. Then the questions will start: Do I watch the game again? What do I do now? Who do I talk to? Do I do this interview or that one? Do I bury my head in the sand and hide, or do I go out publicly?

But I don’t subscribe to the thoughts that the pressure is Hawthorn. What that says is that Freo doesn’t want to win as much and that’s not true.

For Alastair, a loss might be a little easier because he’s won one. As much as the public will second guess him, it’s different because he’d still have that 2008 premiership under his belt.

He’d almost certainly get more external pressure about losing a couple in a row. But he’s smart enough to realise that if he coaches well, speaks well to his players through the game and he’s measured after the game, he’ll be OK.

A win for him wouldn’t be any less special than for Ross. And to be a dual premiership coach would be incredible. It would put him in exalted company and his club up on a pedestal as one of the best in the last 20 years. And they’re things he’d really look back on fondly after his time as coach ended.

He’s copped a few whacks along the way, so it would give him enormous pleasure — and to win them five years apart would be a huge credit to his ability.

Win, lose or draw they’ll both be exhausted. The reality is that it’s a fine line you walk when you get to the Grand Final and regardless of the result, it won’t make Alastair or Ross a lesser coach if they lose today.

The reality of being a coach in the AFL is that whatever happens, there’s precious little rest. They’ll both soon have to start thinking about the draft and trading.

I just hope, eventually, they get that moment alone so they can soak in the full impact of their role in such an historical afternoon.