The Gabba's long farewell will see Brisbane grow up into the 2032 Olympic Games, but lose some of itself

On a Sunday, high in the upper stands of the Brisbane Cricket Ground (Gabba), surrounded by a throng of people, the mingling of concrete and sweat created an unforgettable atmosphere. The experience was both unique and deeply impactful, leaving a lasting impression.

In the sweltering humidity, the Brisbane Lions unfurled their Australian Football League (AFL) premiership flag before midday, witnessed by over thirty thousand attendees. While a corporate box might have offered more comfort, attending a game at the Gabba on such a day felt almost as challenging as participating in it. This might be an extreme example, but it encapsulates what Brisbane residents expect from the Gabba, our very own Gabba.

Even in the cooler winter months, the sun beats down relentlessly on the exposed seating. On those mornings when rain threatens to turn the afternoon into a quagmire, it transforms into the world's largest public sauna. The transportation is inconvenient, making access and egress difficult, and the massive train station being constructed nearby seems destined only to facilitate travel elsewhere.

It lacks the modern amenities of Perth Stadium or Adelaide Oval, the architectural splendor of the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG), or the grandeur and history of the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG). Instead, it offers a sea of multi-colored seats, perhaps appearing as empty stands on television. Or perhaps not.

But something special happens in this place, memories that will linger long after the city packs up and moves to Victoria Park, into a larger, newer, and more comfortable stadium. Perhaps this magic stems from the discomfort, all of which contributes to a strange and sticky sense of solidarity. When you've endured an entire day of cricket, and then Peter Siddle takes a hat-trick on his birthday after tea, you can embrace the person next to you like a brother, because he's been through it all too.

When you've bravely battled hours on crowded buses and trains to watch the Lions trail Geelong by 52 points, only for Ash McGrath to complete a miracle comeback on the turf before you, it feels even more incredible. You know that buying a ticket to a cricket match might mean the entire outfield is submerged at lunchtime, or turned white by a freak hailstorm after tea. But if you're lucky, Steve Harmison will send the first ball to second slip, and Ricky Ponting will gracefully carve out a perfect century in the final innings.

The Olympics have arrived at just the right time for the city of Brisbane, and while there will be various headaches and complexities over the next seven years, there is no doubt that the city's sporting infrastructure needs to advance. While the Tennyson redevelopment is vital to ensuring the city has a world-class tennis facility, and while Perry Park seems likely to be overlooked once again, dealing a cruel blow to the future of football, the decision regarding Brisbane's main oval arena will be critical.

The Gabba's deterioration has already cost Brisbane an important event, with Perth rightfully snatching the first Test of the summer and taking it west. This may not sound like much, but that Test has always been a source of pride for Queensland sport, a keenly anticipated date on the calendar. At least there won't be a Harmison wide or a Rory Burns getting bowled around his legs for the first ball of this year's Ashes series on the Gabba's turf.

According to Premier David Crisafulli, the initial plans to renovate the Gabba, while convenient and nostalgic, were simply impractical and logistically impossible. Once all the politicking and campaigning are over, building a new stadium at Victoria Park is the only real option. In this location, Brisbane has the opportunity to possess a truly world-class stadium, one whose capacity will allow it to justly host the Olympics and enable it to compete with interstate rivals for years to come.

The planning of the surrounding area will be key, and could see the new stadium set itself apart from venues like Perth Stadium, which remains somewhat desolate. Caxton Street, near Lang Park, is buzzing on game days, and every match feels like a grand occasion. This element should be a top priority in the Victoria Park considerations, as despite all the Gabba's flaws, the pre- and post-match rituals are built around the nearby pubs, clubs, and taverns – saying goodbye to the German Club's pork knuckle will be difficult unless a worthy replacement can be found.

All of this may come in time, and as the new venue slowly emerges from the park, bringing the promise of a new era of sport for the city, the Gabba's shortcomings may become even more pronounced. But the Gabba, as we begin its seven-year farewell performance, will also provide us with one last batch of memories. Within those concrete pillars and maroon and green seats lies the legend of the Queensland spirit, an uncompromising authenticity that will be lost when something new and shiny arrives.

This is an action the city must take as it grows, but fortunately, the Gabba's legendary stories still have time to enrich themselves, lest those memories vanish into rubble when the wrecking ball swings.