Yesterday the Western Bulldogs confirmed one of football's worst kept secrets. The club's 21-year-old tough nut, Callan Ward, had signed for the Greater Western Sydney franchise.

In recent weeks a number of commentators, former players and administrators have weighed into the Ward debate.  Strangely, ethics have rarely entered the fray. Amid the litany of opinions, there has always been one certainty: Ward was bound for the northern expansion club.

Ward is reportedly being paid $4 million over the next five seasons, equating to $800,000 per year; more than twice the annual salary of the Bulldogs' No.1 ticket holder, Julia Gillard, who happens to be the Prime Minister.

Last week Bulldogs legend Doug Hawkins seemingly paved the way for Ward to leave the club.

"The kid's got to go,'' said the Hawk. "The kid has got to take it (the money).  It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  I wouldn't be disappointed in him."

All people, not just footballers, reach a point in their lives when they are compelled to reveal what their priorities are in this world.  In doing so, they inadvertently expose their ethical constitutions.

Yesterday Callan Ward laid his priorities bare for all to see. Like it or not, he is a traitor.

Ward was raised in Spotswood.  He spent time living in Yarraville as a child and played for the Western Jets in the TAC Cup. His family heralds from the western suburbs. As recently as June 16 this year, Ward was adamant that he would remain at the Bulldogs.

"I've loved the club ever since I started here," he said. "I was born in the western suburbs and I want to stay here."

Was he misleading the public or was his head turned by the almighty dollar? Either way, it is going to be difficult for him to avoid the tag of a ‘mercenary' in the coming years.

Since Ward's defection, the Bulldogs' hierarchy has appeared loath to speak unpleasantly about him. Football Manager James Fantasia and Chief Executive Simon Garlick have seemed far more concerned with gaining appropriate compensation for their rising star.

On SEN yesterday afternoon, Garlick justified the club's decision to offer Ward approximately half of his estimated GWS wage: "You've got to maintain the integrity of the list."

I'm not suggesting that the Bulldogs hierarchy should have kicked or screamed. It would have been a futile exercise. Yet, on the surface, there has always appeared to be a deep-seeded acceptance of Ward's fate.

The most public acrimony has come from the man who used to wear Ward's No.14 jumper, Luke Darcy.

"Maybe I'm old school," said Darcy last week. "But I still think there is so much to gain from being a one-club player."

Paul Roos, one of the most sacrosanct figures in the modern game, has only one regret from his time in football. He wishes that he could have been a one-club player.

Darcy likened Ward's dilemma to that which Chris Grant faced in 1996. Grant was offered a once-in-a-lifetime contract by Port Adelaide to join them for their inaugural season in the national competition.

Grant's decision to remain at the club was reportedly helped by a young Bulldogs supporter who sent the star an envelope containing his pocket money (20 cents) and a note urging him to stay.

The Grant anecdote underlines the romantic side of football which supporters, as distinct from player managers and administrators, desperately cling to. There appears to be a decreasing scope in the game for such romanticism.

Football is not a reciprocal pursuit. It doesn't give back to supporters what they put in. There are certain principles which supporters are bound to, or bind themselves to, which simply don't apply to players. The great mistake supporters make is when they expect players to uphold these principles. It can only end in hurt.

Footscray supporters are a dogged breed. They continue to lend their lungs to the cause; to believe the unbelievable; to support extroverted men with peroxide in their moustaches; to part with their hard-earned (particularly in the western suburbs) in the hope of catching a glimpse of their idols on football's biggest stage.

Callan Ward has let Bulldogs supporters down most of all. No true western suburbs boy at heart would chase the money.

I regularly ride past a homeless man on my way to work. He sleeps wrapped in tarpaulins underneath a footbridge. He has braved the harsh Melbourne winter and come out the other side. That, Mr Ward, is suffering.