Why NRL chief executive David Smith must be the Goliath NRL CEO David Smith. RUGBY league is one of the planet's toughest sports. To survive in it you need to be physically and mentally tough ... and I'm just talking about off the field. Ask new NRL CEO David Smith, he's just beginning to understand that. In just one week David Smith has gone from saviour to "halfwit" and a "dope" and then back to saviour again. As they say, a week's a long time in football. Welcome to rugby league, David. Paul Kent lit the fuse last week, writing an article rightfully questioning where the game's leadership had suddenly disappeared to. From there, other journalists started to ask questions of Smith's leadership, such as "Where are you?" and "What are you doing?" He responded with his vision for the game. Jumping castles ... big screens ... kicks for cash ... E squared, Entertainment and Engagement. It was alarming. It was like the early chaotic days of Super League, where players were promised that kids in China would wear their jerseys, rock concert-style entertainment at every match, with only the world's biggest artists good enough. One Super League representative told me, "Name your favourite artist and I'll bet we'll get them." I replied, "John Lennon." The administrator replied, straight-faced, "That could be a problem." David Smith had also made a couple of faux pas previously which had made people nervous, admitting to being unable to identify Kangaroos captain Cameron Smith and of course lending support to "Benji" Barba. Not the greatest crime in the world. However, compared to the French military leader Napoleon who incredibly would learn all his soldiers' names before leading them into battle, it was a little sloppy. But one of the strengths of a great leader is recognising their own weaknesses and being smart enough to bring in someone to cover for them. This is where David Smith has excelled, by bringing in a man who understands the game, understands the clubs and has a proven record as a problem solver, Todd Greenberg. Together they can make a great team but they need to act urgently. Rugby league is a tribal game, and while David Smith has been sitting back getting familiar with his surroundings, the tribes have been running wild. Of course I refer to the clubs and the self-interest which continues to hold the game back. The independent commission was brought in to put an end to it, but it's never been worse. Just have a look at the way the clubs have savaged the City-Country concept. Yes, ticket prices were way too high, but did we really expect the fans to turn up and support a fixture which many clubs and players were turning their backs on? Only 4600 could be bothered to turn up and I don't blame them. I phoned a friend in Sawtell on Saturday to ask if he was going. He stayed home and watched the A-League grand final instead. The way the clubs have almost destroyed the once prestigious City-Country concept is a warning to the game's administration. The more the club pays a player, the more control they have. If in two years' time a player is offered $1.5 million a year by a club, it is very much a reality that the club may ask that player to stand down from the rigours of State of Origin football. It will happen, so put the clubs in their place now. At the beginning of the year referees' boss Daniel Anderson implemented a no-tolerance policy on obstructions. It frightened clubs because it meant they had to move away from their over-reliance on the "block" plays they all employed. Did the clubs change their attacking style? Some did, whilst others exerted enormous pressure on Anderson until he folded, and compromised his tough stance. The clubs win again. The game's leadership needs to protect and support people such as Anderson. We still have some clubs implementing ridiculous media bans. Coaches won't talk, players won't talk, so the fans won't turn up. It's amazing how little clubs feel they have to give for $1 billion. I suppose that's why Darius Boyd up in Newcastle can do a press conference and believe it's OK to display arrogance by giving one-word answers or no answers at all. In a rugby league town like Newcastle where many of the fans are people who work upwards of 50 hours a week down a mine shaft, I thought it made Darius and the club look particularly bad. The game's leadership needed to remind Darius that a "professional footballer" means more than scoring tries and making tackles. I could go on and on about the unhealthy influence clubs are having on our game because they are simply allowed to. The game doesn't need leaders, it needs dictators. People who will make decisions, wholly and solely for the betterment of the game without asking one person in club land. AFL boss Andrew Demetriou makes decisions which he believes benefit the long-term interests of their game, regardless of what his clubs think. Demetriou's fingers are on everything in the AFL. If he thought he was the best man to sing the national anthem on grand final day, he'd just do it. In the not-too-distant past rugby league was run by a couple of dictators, John Quayle and Ken Arthurson, and the game flourished. They, like Demetriou, had their fingers on everything. In 1994 Arthurson, sick and tired of seeing the Newcastle Knights struggle on and off the field, picked up the phone and gave the Knights board some strong advice: "If you want success, appoint Malcolm Reilly as coach." The Knights knew it was more than just a suggestion, it was a directive. Appoint Reilly they did, and success followed. The game has suffered in the months that new CEO David Smith has sat back and familiarised himself rather than asserted power. Ricky Stuart should have been told: "Just sign Israel Folau, we'll find a way to make it work under the cap." Instead, Israel's playing for a competitor; Parramatta's crowds and results are evidence of what a monumental stuff-up that was. The leadership void during the initial days of the ASADA investigation saw the Cronulla Sharks left isolated and as a result they imploded under the pressure. The NRL needed to immediately take control of that club and guide them through every decision which was about to be made. But a true test of a leader is how well you protect your borders and during the days of Super League, there's no doubt, regardless of which side of the fence you sat on, the resilience and fighting qualities of the game under Quayle and Arko were remarkable. How would the game hold up if the same thing happened tomorrow? Well in a lot of ways it is - it's called AFL, A-League and rugby union. Time for action.