Chris Fagan quits as Brisbane coach at 65 after building dominant Lions side

Chris Fagan, 65, stepped down as senior coach of the Brisbane Lions after the AFL grand final at the Melbourne Cricket Ground on Saturday, leaving a club whose recent run has established a dynasty. “There’s a little bit inside of me who’d rather walk away when the team’s on top,” he said. “It’s sort of the dream way to finish.”
Justin Longmuir of Fremantle presented a stark contrast in the immediate aftermath of the grand final, appearing to topple during the presentation and looking as if his body had gone into shock. Fagan initially looked utterly wrung out and those around him gave him space; it took several minutes for him to gather himself. Within about half an hour he had reverted to deflecting praise, commending the opposition and urging his players to remain humble, while also leaving what the author describes as breadcrumbs that he had made up his mind to step away.
There was an obvious temptation for Fagan to stay: if the Lions win again in 2027, they’ll join the Collingwood side of the Depression era as the only VFL/AFL club to win four premierships in a row. The article notes Leigh Matthews’ 2004 team were limping to the line when they completed their run, and that Port Adelaide had been smarting after several poor Septembers. Despite that historical context, the writer observes Brisbane are well placed to contend for years, with talented young players yet to be fully seen and a side that will need a new challenge to motivate them through the winter.
The piece argues it is slightly harder to win four in a row now, noting “There’s six more clubs for a start and the competition is ostensibly designed to bring down the best.” It records that Fagan had hinted at stepping aside after the 2024 premiership and again the following year. The closest he came was said to be about halfway through the 2024 season, when the team was out of the eight, his health was in decline and the Hawthorn racism allegations still hung heavily — “The Hawthorn thing,” he called it.
Fagan’s background is described as unconventional for a multiple-premiership coach: he had not played VFL or AFL football, although he had been a very good player in Tasmania. At Hawthorn he served as a counterbalance to Alastair Clarkson, portrayed as the yin to Clarkson’s yang who would pull him into line and tap him on the shoulder when he was out of control in the box. The task at Brisbane initially appeared to exceed expectations; for years the club had been a place to get out of quickly rather than a destination for sustainable success.
The article credits Fagan’s patience and pastoral approach for steadying the club, saying he was forgiving of mistakes and always realistic about where they sat. It also records that the team could be infuriating, prone to self-immolation, and had lost several close finals because of tardy goalkicking and difficulty at the MCG. The narrative tracks Brisbane’s rise as almost unprecedented: from wooden spoon, to quick spike, to close cutthroat finals losses, to grand final heartbreak, to the three-peat.
Contrasts are drawn between Fagan and several contemporaries: he did not resemble Chris Scott or Luke Beveridge in game manipulation, was not a Ross Lyon-style total club controller, nor did he remake the game as Alastair Clarkson or Damien Hardwick did. Instead, the article emphasises his ability to connect with, believe in, push back on and get the best out of players some 45 years his junior. It adds that, beneath a “bewildered uncle” manner, there was a hard, obsessive and sometimes brutal side, with “a little of bit of Clarkson in him right to the end.”
The writer notes Fagan previously spoke of impostor syndrome even after winning his first premiership but says “He isn’t talking like that any more. He’s talking like a man who has done it all, who has built from scratch one of the greatest football teams we’ve ever seen, and who steps aside with nothing more to prove.” The one-word question on everyone’s lips following the grand final was “HOW?” Five days on, and 10 years since he was appointed, there’s another question – how the hell can anyone top that?