Brisbane Bullets Fans Deserve Better

If you follow the Brisbane Bullets, you're probably tired. Tired of the spin, tired of "rebuilding", tired of watching other clubs play May basketball while we start talking about "next year" before school's gone back.

As a long–time hoops tragic living out in West Ipswich, making that trek into Brisbane a few times a week, I want to love this club. But right now, the Bullets are a pretty woeful reflection of what Brisbane basketball could be.

A proud history, a messy present

Brisbane isn't some expansion side making up the numbers. This is one of the NBL's heritage clubs, with three championships (1985, 1987, 2007) and multiple grand final runs through the 80s and 90s when the Bullets were a genuine powerhouse in Aussie hoops.

They disappeared from the league in 2008, then returned in 2016 with big promises about restoring that legacy. A decade later, it still feels like we're waiting for a proper return to relevance.

On paper, this should be a destination club: big-city market, rich grassroots scene, and a history that actually means something. In reality, the recent on-court product has been wildly inconsistent, and the ladder has not been kind.

The recent seasons: good nights, bad patterns

The last couple of seasons have had just enough bright spots to keep you hopeful, and just enough collapses to make you question why you keep renewing your membership.

In 2024–25, the Bullets had some genuinely impressive wins – knocking over Melbourne United away, rolling the Kings, and putting up big offensive nights that reminded you how fun this team can be when the shots fall. But they also copped some hidings: heavy losses to the Taipans, JackJumpers, Wildcats and Hawks told the real story about where this roster sat against the contenders.

By the time the dust settled, Brisbane were once again outside the serious conversation, stuck in that horrible middle ground: not bottoming out with a clear rebuild, not contending with a coherent, veteran core.

That's the frustrating bit. You can live with a rough year if it's clearly part of a plan. With the Bullets, it too often feels like year-to-year improvisation.

Talent in Brisbane, disconnect at the top

That's what makes it a sad reflection of Brisbane's basketball depth. This region has produced legit NBL, WNBL and international players for decades, and the local junior pathways are strong. You see it at school tournaments, local comps, and packed social leagues that somehow still tip off at 9:45pm on a Tuesday.

Yet the professional team that's meant to sit at the top of that pyramid hasn't consistently matched that standard.

Some of this comes back to management and decision-making:

• Coaching churn and identity issues. Constantly changing coaches and styles makes it hard to build a recognisable Bullets brand of basketball.
• Roster balance. The mix has often felt off – either too import-heavy without defensive glue, or relying on local talent without the high-end star power other clubs roll out in big moments.
• Fan experience vs. on-court reality. Game nights are marketed well and the club's digital presence looks the part, but eventually the product people pay for is wins, effort, and a team that looks connected.

For a city that can support the Broncos, Lions, Roar, Heat and Dolphins, it's not crazy to expect a basketball club that behaves like a serious professional outfit.

Brisbane deserves a 2026 reset

So what does "better in 2026" actually look like? For me, as a fan and as someone who spends his days thinking about systems and architecture, it's about building something stable instead of chasing quick fixes.

A few non-negotiables:

• Clear identity. Are we a fast, guard-driven team? A defensive-first grind? A pick-and-roll machine? The best NBL clubs know exactly who they are, and recruit to that.
• Smarter roster construction. Prioritise two-way players, bring in imports that complement local strengths, and lock in a core for more than a single spin of the wheel.
• Respect the grassroots. Make the Bullets the aspirational endpoint for Brisbane juniors by visibly investing in clinics, local associations, and giving actual court time and development to local talent.
• Transparency with fans. If it's a rebuild, say so. If the goal is top four, act like it in your signings and your standards.

As someone who also spends a lot of time on a small homestead, there's a lesson there: you can't fake growth. You can throw fertiliser at a plant, you can overwater it, but in the end, you need the right seed in the right soil with time to mature. The Bullets feel like they keep replanting every season.

Why I'm still hopeful

Despite all the frustration, I'm not out. I still want to take my kids into the city, grab overpriced chips, and watch a Bullets side that plays like it understands it's carrying forty-plus years of Brisbane basketball on its shoulders.

The NBL itself is in a strong spot – better talent, better coverage, better production values – which means the window is wide open for a smart, well-run Brisbane to become a genuine force again. That'd be good not just for the club, but for the league.

Brisbane deserves a team that matches its history, its junior talent, and the loyalty of fans who keep showing up through the mediocrity. Here's hoping that when we talk about the 2026 Bullets, we're finally talking about a team that found its backbone, not just another chapter in the "nearly" era.

And if not… well, there's always the Breakers.