Why it's time to give Todd Carney another chance
By Andrew Webster
11 December 2017
https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/sp...dd-carney-another-chance-20171211-h02ezs.html
On a scale of one to Todd Carney, the incident that led to Todd Carney being bounced out of rugby league was about ... add the four, divide by two, subtract one ... let's say three.
In 2014, while playing for Cronulla, he was minding his own business at the urinal at Northies, doing what young blokes do at the urinal at Northies – pretending to urinate in his own mouth – when someone snapped a photo on their phone and posted it on social media.
Overnight, "The Bubbler" became part of the rugby league lexicon. Within days, Carney was sacked.
Oh, the irony. Of all the dumb things Carney had done throughout his career, this was the silly little mistake that was going to permanently turf him from the game? (No, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.)
At Canberra, then the Roosters, and then the Sharks, he had done a lot of dumb things: urinating on a patron's head at a Canberra nightclub; a string of drink-driving offences, including doing a runner from the police; ordered to stay away from his hometown of Goulburn for a year; busted drink-driving on the way to a Saturday morning meeting with Roosters chairman Nick Politis; and more broken grog bans than the English cricket team presently touring these fine shores.
The Bubbler, in comparison, was nothing more than a schoolyard prank. And certainly not in the same postcode as the day in 2004 when Julian O'Neill allegedly tried to set fire to the dorsal fin of Danny the Dolphin, a costume being worn by a 13-year-old boy on a cruise on the Hastings River. (Danny survived, O'Neill jumped overboard and swam to shore).
"Surely, they couldn't sack him for that!" Andrew Johns fumed on The Sunday Footy Show at the time of Carney's indiscretion. "It's silly, it's stupid, but he is only doing it to himself!" (Andrew Johns, another bloke who doesn't understand the reputational damage to the game that these incidents cause.)
Three years later, Carney is still trying to find his way back into the NRL. He has been linked to Manly, and now the Cowboys, but none of it matters unless the NRL says its ready to welcome Carney back into the fold. From all reports, headquarters is firmly divided on the issue.
Some ask, and rightfully: does the game really need Todd Carney? Does it owe him anything? How many chances does he deserve? What assurances can he really give that he won't do the wrong thing again on the gibber-juice?
Then there's the alternative view: give him one last shot. Three years is a long time out of the game, especially when the incident for which he was booted was so petty. Earlier this year, he reportedly reached a six-figure settlement with Cronulla after taking them to court for unfair dismissal. So maybe he shouldn't have been sacked at all. (Or maybe he should have been but was lucky Cronulla didn't follow the process before sacking him.)
More than that, Carney deserves another chance when we consider other instances of misbehaving players, and the two that obviously spring to mind are Russell Packer and Matt Lodge.
Packer was jailed for a year for stomping on the head of another man in an alcohol-fuelled rage. He was released, finally convinced the NRL to let him play for the Dragons and played well enough to earn a lucrative deal with the Wests Tigers. He no longer drinks alcohol, has completed a commerce degree and makes his own kombucha.
Packer got another chance – why not Carney? (One-off incident and subsequent rehabilitation efforts vs course of behaviour and likelihood of re-offending.)
Matt Lodge went on an alcohol and prescription medication-fuelled rampage in New York, assaulting strangers and threatening lives — including that of a nine-year old boy — before being arrested by NYPD officers at gunpoint and thrown into jail. That was three years ago. The NRL has cleared him to play for Broncos next year.
Lodge got another chance – why not Carney? (Again, a one-off incident and subsequent rehabilitation efforts vs a course of behaviour and likelihood of re-offending.)
Carney's career has been a tragedy. He could've been so much more. (Very true, could well have been the long-term NSW 5/8 at least.)
His many friends both inside and outside of football tell you he's a genuinely good person … until he gets on the aforementioned gibber-juice.
In his first game back in the NRL after being sacked by Canberra and then spending a year playing bush footy with Atherton in Far North Queensland, Carney played the house down for the Roosters. We often forget that, in his prime, was a gun. (No-one forgets how good he was.)
In the dressing-rooms afterwards, reporters orbited him like he was the sun. In the corner, watching from afar, was then Roosters coach Brian Smith.
"It's not what he does now that's the issue," Smith said quietly when approached for comment that night. "It's what happens when he doesn't have footy."
With footy in his life, Carney finished the year as the Dally M Medallist and was then selected to play for Australia.
Sure enough, the off-season came and Carney didn't have footy: he was busted driving while under the influence of alcohol. He fell out with Smith, kept breaking alcohol bans and was eventually released from the final year of his contract.
Those around Carney didn't help his cause, wondering why he couldn't lead the same tearaway life like every other twentysomething bloke living in Sydney's eastern suburbs.
It was horrific advice.
Like many footballers, Carney seemingly didn't understand that when you are on $500,000-or-more per season, at a high-profile Sydney rugby league club, you are going to be scrutinised more than most. Don't like it? Go and find another job.
This is the fundamental change NRL chief executive Todd Greenberg and his second-in-command, Nick Weeks, must see before they allow Carney back into the game.
They can slap a long list of conditions on him — no alcohol, no social media silliness, no weeing in your own mouth or on another person's head — but a genuine acknowledgement that any incident, no matter how trivial, whether it's a one or a Todd Carney, hurts not just himself but the game.
Like the NRL, I have mixed feelings about Carney being allowed to play in the NRL again. At his best, a genuine game-breaker and top-liner, at his worst, a serial pest dragging the game's good name through the mud and sabotaging corporate investment and junior registrations.
What I can't cop are these' puff pieces from "journalists" with a clear agenda who are unwilling to remain impartial and report the facts. Instead, they put only one side of the argument and ignore anything that doesn't suit their line.
By Andrew Webster
11 December 2017
https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/sp...dd-carney-another-chance-20171211-h02ezs.html
On a scale of one to Todd Carney, the incident that led to Todd Carney being bounced out of rugby league was about ... add the four, divide by two, subtract one ... let's say three.
In 2014, while playing for Cronulla, he was minding his own business at the urinal at Northies, doing what young blokes do at the urinal at Northies – pretending to urinate in his own mouth – when someone snapped a photo on their phone and posted it on social media.
Overnight, "The Bubbler" became part of the rugby league lexicon. Within days, Carney was sacked.
Oh, the irony. Of all the dumb things Carney had done throughout his career, this was the silly little mistake that was going to permanently turf him from the game? (No, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.)
At Canberra, then the Roosters, and then the Sharks, he had done a lot of dumb things: urinating on a patron's head at a Canberra nightclub; a string of drink-driving offences, including doing a runner from the police; ordered to stay away from his hometown of Goulburn for a year; busted drink-driving on the way to a Saturday morning meeting with Roosters chairman Nick Politis; and more broken grog bans than the English cricket team presently touring these fine shores.
The Bubbler, in comparison, was nothing more than a schoolyard prank. And certainly not in the same postcode as the day in 2004 when Julian O'Neill allegedly tried to set fire to the dorsal fin of Danny the Dolphin, a costume being worn by a 13-year-old boy on a cruise on the Hastings River. (Danny survived, O'Neill jumped overboard and swam to shore).
"Surely, they couldn't sack him for that!" Andrew Johns fumed on The Sunday Footy Show at the time of Carney's indiscretion. "It's silly, it's stupid, but he is only doing it to himself!" (Andrew Johns, another bloke who doesn't understand the reputational damage to the game that these incidents cause.)
Three years later, Carney is still trying to find his way back into the NRL. He has been linked to Manly, and now the Cowboys, but none of it matters unless the NRL says its ready to welcome Carney back into the fold. From all reports, headquarters is firmly divided on the issue.
Some ask, and rightfully: does the game really need Todd Carney? Does it owe him anything? How many chances does he deserve? What assurances can he really give that he won't do the wrong thing again on the gibber-juice?
Then there's the alternative view: give him one last shot. Three years is a long time out of the game, especially when the incident for which he was booted was so petty. Earlier this year, he reportedly reached a six-figure settlement with Cronulla after taking them to court for unfair dismissal. So maybe he shouldn't have been sacked at all. (Or maybe he should have been but was lucky Cronulla didn't follow the process before sacking him.)
More than that, Carney deserves another chance when we consider other instances of misbehaving players, and the two that obviously spring to mind are Russell Packer and Matt Lodge.
Packer was jailed for a year for stomping on the head of another man in an alcohol-fuelled rage. He was released, finally convinced the NRL to let him play for the Dragons and played well enough to earn a lucrative deal with the Wests Tigers. He no longer drinks alcohol, has completed a commerce degree and makes his own kombucha.
Packer got another chance – why not Carney? (One-off incident and subsequent rehabilitation efforts vs course of behaviour and likelihood of re-offending.)
Matt Lodge went on an alcohol and prescription medication-fuelled rampage in New York, assaulting strangers and threatening lives — including that of a nine-year old boy — before being arrested by NYPD officers at gunpoint and thrown into jail. That was three years ago. The NRL has cleared him to play for Broncos next year.
Lodge got another chance – why not Carney? (Again, a one-off incident and subsequent rehabilitation efforts vs a course of behaviour and likelihood of re-offending.)
Carney's career has been a tragedy. He could've been so much more. (Very true, could well have been the long-term NSW 5/8 at least.)
His many friends both inside and outside of football tell you he's a genuinely good person … until he gets on the aforementioned gibber-juice.
In his first game back in the NRL after being sacked by Canberra and then spending a year playing bush footy with Atherton in Far North Queensland, Carney played the house down for the Roosters. We often forget that, in his prime, was a gun. (No-one forgets how good he was.)
In the dressing-rooms afterwards, reporters orbited him like he was the sun. In the corner, watching from afar, was then Roosters coach Brian Smith.
"It's not what he does now that's the issue," Smith said quietly when approached for comment that night. "It's what happens when he doesn't have footy."
With footy in his life, Carney finished the year as the Dally M Medallist and was then selected to play for Australia.
Sure enough, the off-season came and Carney didn't have footy: he was busted driving while under the influence of alcohol. He fell out with Smith, kept breaking alcohol bans and was eventually released from the final year of his contract.
Those around Carney didn't help his cause, wondering why he couldn't lead the same tearaway life like every other twentysomething bloke living in Sydney's eastern suburbs.
It was horrific advice.
Like many footballers, Carney seemingly didn't understand that when you are on $500,000-or-more per season, at a high-profile Sydney rugby league club, you are going to be scrutinised more than most. Don't like it? Go and find another job.
This is the fundamental change NRL chief executive Todd Greenberg and his second-in-command, Nick Weeks, must see before they allow Carney back into the game.
They can slap a long list of conditions on him — no alcohol, no social media silliness, no weeing in your own mouth or on another person's head — but a genuine acknowledgement that any incident, no matter how trivial, whether it's a one or a Todd Carney, hurts not just himself but the game.
Like the NRL, I have mixed feelings about Carney being allowed to play in the NRL again. At his best, a genuine game-breaker and top-liner, at his worst, a serial pest dragging the game's good name through the mud and sabotaging corporate investment and junior registrations.
What I can't cop are these' puff pieces from "journalists" with a clear agenda who are unwilling to remain impartial and report the facts. Instead, they put only one side of the argument and ignore anything that doesn't suit their line.
