Every governing body of anything should, before imposing some or other brilliant innovation on whatever it is they’re in charge of, ask themselves the following questions. Does anybody want this? Would a single sentient being complain if we didn’t do this? Is this going to make anything better for anybody? A follow-up inquiry could perhaps be floated a year or two after they’ve gone ahead with it anyway: would anyone object if we reversed this?

On 29 March 1997, Footscray took the field for the first time as the Western Bulldogs. In what should have been perceived as ominous by all concerned, they got beaten (albeit narrowly) in front of a tiny crowd (8,664 at Princes Park). The fact that the Bulldogs went on to have a fine season, making it as far as the preliminary final only to lose by two points to eventual premiers Adelaide, did not then, and should not now, validate the change. The fudged, unwieldy Western Bulldogs name remains a blight on the fixture. Given that the team is right now in transition, or rebuilding, or whatever is the current preferred euphemism for “playing badly”, it is surely worth considering that the overdue resurrection of Footscray could be a solid cornerstone of new foundations.

As has been the case with a significant proportion of absurd decisions undertaken in modern times, Footscray’s name change was done in the name of “branding”. By the end of 1996, the club was in gruesome straits on and off the field, and oblivion was a possibility. These were desperate times: 113 years of history had not spared VFL founder members Fitzroy amalgamation with the Brisbane Bears, and consideration was even being given to merging Hawthorn and Melbourne, who at the time had 21 premierships between them. Eternally unfashionable Footscray, with the increasingly threadbare flag of 1954 flapping alone over Whitten Oval, would have had reasons for feeling vulnerable. As frightened people do, they panicked. Newly arrived club president David Smorgon dismissed “Footscray” as intractably associated with “underprivileged” and “third-rate”. The name “Western Bulldogs”, it was felt, would free the club from a heritage of failure, and command new loyalty across all of Melbourne’s western suburbs.

Before enumerating further complaints about the inanity of the Western Bulldogs marque, a couple of concessions should be ungrudgingly offered. First and foremost, that the club still exists, which was no sure thing for a long, nervous interlude. And membership and attendances are up on what they were then. But – and this is a key argument for the return of the Footscray name – not by that much. The Bulldogs’ net membership revenue is still the lowest of any Victorian club, and a meagre fraction of the earnings of the likes of West Coast, Collingwood and Fremantle – even fellow perennial strugglers Richmond make nearly three times the money. This year, only Gold Coast, Brisbane and Greater Western Sydney are attracting smaller average crowds; nearly 200,000 more people have been to see Richmond.

During the existential panics of the mid-to-late-90s, North Melbourne abandoned their place name in favour of trading as Kangaroos in the vain hope of acquiring a new national fan base. They revived their geographical identity for the 2008 season, and saw membership increase by nearly 25%. In the mid-1980s, St Kilda might have ended up the Southern Saints – season tickets bearing the name were printed, and may be found on eBay. Does anybody think it would have been a good thing if this had gone ahead? Is there – and this isn’t a rhetorical question, I’m genuinely curious – a single Western Bulldogs fan who would vote to keep the new name over the old if given a choice?

However diffused a game’s fans become the roots of clubs stay relevant. Indeed, they arguably become more so – Manchester United followers in Beijing and Chicago Bulls supporters in Bamako (I’ve met both) are buying into a mythology tied to a particular place. Footscray’s reputation as honest, rugged toilers is both hard-won, and entirely sellable. “Western Bulldogs” means nothing at all, and has been further diluted by the establishment of Greater Western Sydney, which at least offers a hint of where on the map to point.

Footscray remains a proud name, which deserves better than relegation to the apologetic “FFC” on the back of the guernsey. On which subject, a precedent exists for the club undoing a fix of that which what wasn’t broken. In 1975, the red and white bands around Footscray’s jumper were melded together, in the mystifying belief that this would be more attractive on the recently arrived colour television – as if the uniforms hadn’t been perfectly serviceable in colour real life. In 2012, after a few years of footling with a silly, stylised dog’s-head motif, the original plain stripes were restored. I don’t recall anyone complaining.