When will you come back as PM, she asked and implored? She scored a handshake, but nothing more. ''He didn't answer me,'' she said.

The Cats-supporting pensioner was not alone in her urging. Throughout his stand-up media conference in the mall, this was the regular and enthusiastic call from the sidelines. One shopper went even further with an improvised sign directed at the Labor caucus that read: ''A vote for Kevin Rudd will bring Julia down with a thud.'' Mr Rudd could not have but heard the people speak so clearly and loudly, and it may have contributed to the constant smile. Yet he was not biting, despite the Rudd-love in the lunchtime air.

''I haven't changed my position one bit,'' he said of his no-challenge stance. But what if the party came to him?

''I have said very plainly that I am not a candidate for the leadership,'' he said, ''and I've said equally plainly that I don't see any circumstances under which I would return to the leadership.''

And so it was in hills and dales of Geelong on Friday, as he campaigned for what is essentially Labor's mission impossible. By his side was Darren Cheeseman, who holds Corangamite by less than half a per cent, making it Labor's most marginal seat. There are reports that even ALP headquarters has given up, withdrawing campaign resources. Also there was Richard Marles, who holds the seat of Corio by what should be a more comfortable margin of about 14 per cent.

But with talk of landslides, 14 per cent can no longer be regarded as safe.

Both men, of course, are declared Rudd supporters. But the former prime minister insisted that he would campaign where he could.

And in a big call, Mr Rudd even declared that Mr Cheeseman - ''a fighter from central casting'' - could defy the odds.

''They've carved his name on a tombstone so many times in the past that, frankly, they should put the tombstone in the museum,'' said Mr Rudd.

There is no doubt that however slim the odds, they improved as a result of Mr Rudd's efforts, a masterclass in grassroots campaigning. Geelong has been kicked in the guts of late, primarily by Ford's decision to stop making cars there. So this was the message that Mr Rudd delivered. ''Don't let the buggers get to you,'' he said.

He began with a packed and enthusiastic crowd at an ethnic communities centre. Then he was late for his next engagement, at the Christian College, held up by well-wishers at the community centre pushing forward, desperate for a word and a photo.

The year 9s at the school were a study in patience as they waited in an impressive school hall that was appropriately built with the money Mr Rudd pumped into the economy to shield Australia from the worst of the GFC.

Yet even here, the impact of the Ford closures - a symbolic one that hits at the city's heart - was never far from the surface.

One student showed courage and maturity when he told Mr Rudd that his mother would lose her job. How, he asked, would things end up for his family?

Mr Rudd offered that the government was sending $24 million on an investment and innovation fund to help find a job for his mum and her workmates.

At the end of it all, it was hard to escape the impression that Mr Rudd's campaigning was much more prime ministerial than backbencher.

As he continued to declare he would not be Labor's saviour, his day in Geelong showed that he could be and, according to Beverly Edwards and her fellow shoppers, should be.