'The word HR has made it worse': When human resources and rugby league collide

Integrity, respect, and inclusivity are the cornerstones of the modern workplace, if not today’s society.

It is instilled in us to treat people kindly, while addressing them in a professional manner, without prejudice.

Any digression from these ideals will likely result in a hot date with the human resources department, with the main topic of conversation revolving around justification to keep your job.

In a fortnight that has laid witness to David Klemmer’s expletive-ridden attack on Newcastle trainer Hayden Knowles, it is important to remember that the operations of an NRL club and all its functions are in fact a workplace.

In theory, the players are subject to Fair Work legislation, just as you and I. But is this the reality, and should it be?

Any direct comparison between an NRL club and a conventional workplace will rapidly highlight the former as anything but an average place of employment.

An organisation that competes for a bronze cast of the “Gladiators” by its very nature is far from the norm.

The vicious combat that is the very foundation of rugby league’s appeal fails to meet the criteria when it comes to the duty of care demanded by Work Health and Safety Laws, but is unlikely to lead to an investigation from the SafeWork regulator.

It is the game’s ability to push boundaries in the space of physicality that appeals to the masses. The layperson admires the superhuman athletic prowess of the NRL player and the propensity to push their bodies to the limit.

The achievements of these players are anything but normal, while it’s this stress and fatigue in an ultra high-pressure environment that contributes to situations like that witnessed during Newcastle’s loss to the Bulldogs.

(Photo by Ashley Feder/Getty Images)

It also must be said that these incidents are not isolated. Cameron Smith came out strong in highlighting this sentiment on SEN Radio when he said: “Well, it’s strange really. If words were spoken between a player and a trainer, that’s happened a thousand times before.

“The way I’ve seen it dealt with and sorted out in the past is that if there’s an issue… it’s dealt with in-person after the match.”

If not dealt with in-person, it is traditionally the coach who would attend to such conflict. The greatest coaches in the game are applauded as much for their ability as man managers as they are for their football brains.

It is no secret that Wayne Bennett’s strengths lie with supporting his players on and away from the field, rather than revolutionising the technical components of rugby league.

After six premierships and five State of Origin series wins, I’m sure Wayne has had to mediate more than one blow-up that would be otherwise be dealt with by the HR rep reading from the latest revision of the workplace harassment policy.

By its very essence rugby league is a combative contest, the nature of which is without peer in the sporting landscape. It is inevitable that tempers will boil over, significantly more so than in even the most high-stakes boardroom.

The Herculean feats are something to behold, as the realisation that the athletic ability of even the average NRL player is unachievable to the mere mortal. You’d have to draw a long bow to compare them to a doctor, teacher or tradie.

This aggression (or passion) is not limited to the players. The number of times the television broadcast flicks to a coach doing his block would make one believe such antics produce as many ratings as the game itself.

Whether it’s Des Hasler ripping the door off the hinges at Parramatta Stadium, or Craig Bellamy physically abusing the glass in the box, there is something to admire about the hostility displayed in the quest of winning.

In the case of Bellamy, his theatrical antics are as much a part of his legend as his ability to care for and get the best out of his players.

As Cameron Munster puts it, “If I don’t get at least one spray a week then I am not doing the right job. It pulls me into line when he gives me a good crack.”

If the council foreman spoke to the closest guy on a shovel in the same vein, he’d be in front of the union delegate quicker than you could eat a meat pie at smoko. However, the bond between players and coaches is different, and we accept that.

That is not to say that it can be open slather, as Ricky Stuart has rightly found out this week.

There must be a level of decorum and standards that players and coaches alike abide by in line with the expectations of an inclusive and non-prejudiced society.

However, as Knowles admitted in the Klemmer aftermath, “The word HR has made it worse.”