This column has already flagged its fascination with the Goulburn Valley's penchant for a dynasty upon almost every local sporting landscape.
In 2017, Musings HQ wrote that it was "rubbing my two brain cells together trying to start an intellectual fire" in order to decipher why the GV had so many long-running success stories.
The next year a deep-dive on the work of Central Park-St Brendan's in the Cricket Shepparton ranks added to what I am now dubbing the "Dynasty Files".
But it is time for another look.
That intellectual fire became an inferno recently while watching the as-live replay of Amazing Adelaide, Australia's remarkable final day efforts in a 2006 Ashes Test against England.
More on that in a looming edition of Instant Replay, but while perusing the work of one Shane Keith Warne on that fateful Tuesday, I was quite vividly reminded of the final piece of live sport I was able to take in before the coronavirus shutdown.
The English batting order, like so many opposition outfits before it, were simply putty in the hands of a masterful Warne — waiting for him to mold them in the image he so desired before sending them on to the kiln.
He not only had their measure in the battle between ball and bat, spin and slog and wrist and leg-side whip — but also in the mental contest.
When a batsman took guard and saw Warne spinning the ball up and down in his hands at the top of his mark, they knew he was better than them and that he was likely to get them out — they just did not know that they knew that.
Their bodies certainly did though, stiffening at the joints and refusing to comply with simple instructions from the brain.
Put more succinctly — they were like a deer in headlights.
It took me straight back to Tatura Bowling Club and the battle for the Allan Matheson Shield.
From the moment I arrived — with Shepparton Golf looking in trouble — down by more than a dozen shots with about 30 ends to play against Shepparton Park — it was clear which side was chasing its fifth top tier premiership in a row.
Brad Orr — who actually has won eight of the past nine division one flags in the GVBD — oozed confidence despite the position his side found itself in.
He controlled every aspect of his rink battle against opposition coach Paul Nichols, roaring after the good bowls and screaming after the great ones — of which there were so many that he lost his voice well before the match was done — and urging his 15 teammates unto the breach time and again until Park's wall collapsed and the Golfers swarmed in.
But what struck me most — and why Warne's performance sent me back a few weeks to the division one decider — was the mental edge Orr and his troops had over the Parkers.
Despite their gallant effort, Park's performance in the final 30 ends was akin to the English batsmen on the morning of Amazing Adelaide.
It was waiting for the Golfers to come back, even while it had its proverbial foot on the collective throat of Orr and his charges.
It was not conscious — but it certainly was obvious.
To add to the masterpiece, Orr manipulated time to perfection.
He knew the Golfers hitting the front would jolt the Parkers into action, but slowed his rink down as parity approached, thrust it into fifth gear to make the jump, then slowed to a crawl again once the lead was secured.
At one point he called for an end measure which was clearly long enough, stating he would "see how good the markers are" on the side of the green.
It was a simple yet effective move, designed to draw the ire of the Parkers and direct their attention to him — like Warne mesmerising batsmen at the top of his mark — and it worked as Orr knew it would, distracting his opposition and eventually giving him some of the final bowls of the match where he let his bowls do the talking.
His ruthlessness not only headlines Golf's dynasty, but was likely borne from the only flag he has not claimed in the past nine seasons — the 2012-13 Golf triumph.
Twice now-teammate John Hallam stabbed a dagger in the hearts of Orr's Mooroopna side with the final bowl of the match in their rink battle — first to level the scores after 100 ends and then on the subsequent extra end to win.
Hallam said afterwards he deliberately slowed the game down to take control of his side's destiny — a tactic Orr has certainly kept handy in his bag of tricks since.
But alas, I digress.
It is the power a dynasty has over the opposition that I now believe is the deciding factor in its impact on the historical timeline — and that power almost always stems from one individual.
Rohan Larkin's Tigers were brilliant cricketers individually and as a unit, but it was his superhuman performance of 243 not out in the 2004-05 grand final that kick-started the mental edge the dynasty had over the rest of the competition — a knock that was also borne from a previous crushing defeat.
Kyabram's Goulburn Valley League dominance comes from a well-oiled machine of superstars, but Paul Newman is undoubtedly the glue that kept it together and propelled it to greatness.
The Bombers will be keen to keep winning without him at the helm — and will likely do so — but the dynasty was of Newman's making.
Even Nathalia's Murray Football League run of 10 flags in 15 seasons — and the first senior football five-peat in the competition's history — has a central figure, with Jason Limbrick involved in nine of those triumphs.
So just exactly how do you create a dynasty?
Find a generational champion, build a strong team around them and add a pinch of early heartbreak to really fine-tune the recipe.
Quite simple really.