ARL Commission expands player welfare after deaths THE ARL Commission has injected almost $2 million to beef up player welfare programs and staffing as the NRL fraternity comes to terms with the series of young deaths that have rocked the code. News Limited can reveal ARLC hierarchy have taken pro-active measures to safeguard the mental health of emerging and current NRL stars at a time when industry figures say the pressure to succeed has never been greater. The tragic death of Cowboys young gun Alex Elisala, 20, a fortnight ago represented the code's third unexpected fatality in just six months. Prior to the loss of Elisala, whose funeral in Logan on Thursday was attended by an estimated 500 family and friends, the Wests Tigers were left devastated by the suicide of 20-year-old prop Mosese Fotuaika in March. Last October, another NRL club was in mourning, this time Manly, who were left seeking answers after the shock death of 21-year-old Jason Annear. Three separate clubs. Three senseless tragedies. Countless questions. No obvious answers. Collectively, the ordeals have shone a forensic torch on the NRL, its demographic shift following an explosion of Polynesian talent and whether the code is equipped with the cultural and social programs to understand and protect its players. Paul Heptonstall knows the sport's welfare landscape better than most. In 2000, he was the game's first bona fide player welfare officer, appointed by the Wests Tigers to specifically cater for players' needs and assist in a time of crisis. Today, he is at the coalface of the NRL's player welfare unit, a fully-fledged operation viewed seriously by the ARL Commission. In December, prior to the Fotuaika and Elisala deaths, the ARLC committed $1.7 million to doubling the number of welfare officers in the code. Last month, Heptonstall presided over a code-wide welfare seminar which addressed a slew of issues including mental health, suicide prevention and alcohol management. Mosese Fotuaika. Picture: Ross Michael For those reasons, he bristles at suggestions the recent deaths are an alarming sign the code isn't doing enough to help its most important commodities. I can't believe what has happened the past six months. It's so sad. I have been working in welfare since 2000 and whether or not this is just coincidence or the result of societal or game pressures, I'm not sure," he says. What I can say is this (mental health) is a community issue, rugby league is not immune to it, and as a result we certainly aren't being complacent. The Commission has been really supportive. We have been given substantial funds to employ 44 full-time welfare and education staff. When you consider I was the first person in NRL welfare in 2000 and now we have 44, that's a huge leap. All up, the game spends around $4.5m on welfare and education. The game's realised how critical this area is. Just as vital is identifying how the code has changed. Once the domain of Anglo-Saxons and the Indigenous, the NRL is now a veritable melting pot. In the 2011 census, less than 0.3 per cent of the Australian population were speakers of Pacific Island languages. Yet in the NRL, in the same year, 30 per cent of contracted NRL players possessed Islander DNA with bloodlines from Samoa, Tonga, Fiji and Cook Islands. The proliferation of Islander talent has provided fresh challenges for the code. On the field, with their enormous physiques, they may seem impervious to weakness. Off it, Heptonstall concedes there are cultural nuances and pressures that are not easy to understand. Elisala and Fotuaika were both Polynesian, the former having represented Samoa just a month ago. Jason Annear. Picture: Mike Biboudis "There is a demographic change at the elite level of the game," Heptonstall says. I'm not saying it's a good or bad thing, but in the NRL today 10 per cent of players are Indigenous and 30 per cent are Polynesian. In terms of welfare, we're trying to become more culturally specific. We have Nigel Vagana (former Samoa and Kiwi Test star) running specific Islanders' camps and Dean Widders (ex-NRL player with Aboriginal blood) is working with Indigenous kids. A recent rugby league poll found players knew one in five who had mental health issues. That's right on the community average and across the board we are dealing in a high-risk category of 20- to 29-year-old males. Ultimately, we need to get young men of all cultures to talk about how they are feeling. It's a community problem we all have to deal with. The NRL already provides professional help via an Employee Assistance Program, which any NRL or state-contracted player can contact to discuss a personal problem. But, in the macho world that is rugby league, convincing young men to confess their vulnerabilities is not always straight-forward. Many Polynesian players are shy, deeply religious and reluctant to open up to, or challenge, authority. Says a leading NRL player agent: "Polynesian families are structured in a different way to Anglo-Saxon families. There is a lot of responsibility on the eldest boy to provide for the family and a sense that what one individual earns or achieves is shared by the family. Broncos lock Alex Glenn, a current New Zealand international with Polynesian links, says NRL clubs must understand Islanders' sense of identity through family. He also speaks of a wider issue: the need for NRL stars, schooled in being tough, to seek help when they need it. "If you are Polynesian, family is the No.1 thing and when you move away from that and get outside your comfort zone, they can struggle," Glenn says. The good thing with 'Hook' (Anthony Griffin), is that he is very approachable and breaks down the boundaries. Nigel Vagana has been doing a lot of work with the Polynesian guys in Sydney and we have to keep doing more as a game to help the young guys. Six years ago, the Broncos were rocked by their own tragedy when former player Joe Clarke, the best mate of current skipper Sam Thaiday, was found dead in a Brisbane park. At the time, then coach Wayne Bennett could not comprehend the loss. His words then still resonate today. "The thing is, they are still normal blokes," Bennett said in the wake of Clarke's funeral. They just happen to play football for a living. For information about suicide prevention, contact Lifeline on 13 11 14, MensLine Australia 1300 78 99 78, or Multicultural Mental Health Australia at mhima.org.au