Certainly, like most fans, I reckon he's doing a fine job running rugby league.

I was one of the many sceptics last season when V'landys announced the NRL's timeline to resume after the coronavirus hiatus, only to be pleasantly surprised when he proved me wrong.

It was inspiring stuff, at a time when feelgood stories were few and far between, and for that V'landys and his colleagues at head office deserve to be congratulated.

Likewise, the decision to introduce the new "six again" rule last year was a masterstroke, not only making the product more watchable, but also creating a more enjoyable game for the players.

As we've seen recently with the exemption granted to 17-year-old Joseph Suaalii so that he can play first grade for the Roosters, V'landys is more than willing to change policies, or overrule decisions made by previous administrators, if he thinks it is for the code's betterment.

If he notices something wrong, he wastes no time in setting it right. Common sense appears to be his trademark.

All of which brings me to an injustice that dates back five years, before the V'landys era had kicked off.

On Australia Day, 2016, Mitchell Pearce did the same thing as tens of thousands of other young Aussies enjoying the public holiday. He got on the drink with his mates.

Many hours later, having apparently been invited into a private residence, he was unknowingly videoed by a stranger with a mobile phone, and by the time he awoke the next day with a presumably sizeable hangover, all hell was in the process of breaking loose.

In quick succession, he had been shamed on national TV, forced to make a tearful, public apology, sacked as Roosters captain, slaughtered by the media and general public and handed an unprecedented NRL sanction: an eight-game suspension and $125,000 fine ($50,000 of which was suspended).

At the time, like many other neutral observers, I didn't have a huge amount of sympathy.

This was, of course, two years after the infamous Todd Carney "bubbler" incident, and the NRL had clearly decided a zero-tolerance policy was required to deal with player misconduct.

Fair enough. Hard to argue with that.

With the benefit of five years' hindsight, however, Pearce has every reason to feel ripped off.

Let's consider a few of the sanctions handed down in recent times to drunken NRL players.

Payne Haas recently pleaded guilty in Tweed Heads Local Court to intimidating police - including a female officer - and using offensive language. The NRL fined him $50,000 and banned him for three games.

Corey Norman copped one game and $10,000 for a street fight, while Victor Radley and Cody Walker each were handed $20,000 fines and two games on the sidelines for violent late-night incidents.

Nelson Asofa-Solomona sat out three Test matches - but no club games - and forked out $15,000 after going ballistic outside a Bali nightclub, while Adam Elliott, who was photographed dancing nude in a pub on Canterbury's 2018 Mad Monday slosh-up, handed over $15,000 but did not miss a game. Not forgetting Jack de Belin, who has been paid more than $1 million by the Dragons for the past two seasons, while he waits to learn if he will join Jarryd Hayne in jail as a convicted rapist.

Consider all of the above, and then remind yourself that Pearce committed no crime in 2016, and the only people hurt were himself and those close to him.

In my view, Pearce's antics on that night were no more offensive, or damaging to the game's "brand", than the annual TV footage of players of any code celebrating grand final wins on Mad Monday.

He'd come unstuck and embarrassed himself after having a few too many. Anyone who hasn't been there, done that, at some point has clearly lived a very dull life.

Moreover, the price he paid was even higher. The suspension effectively cost the incumbent NSW halfback any chance of appearing in that year's Origin series, for which players were paid $30,000 a game.

The whole thing was such a travesty former NRL CEO Todd Greenberg admitted a few years ago that, in hindsight, Pearce's punishment was "overcooked".

Greenberg, who around the same time authorised spending $10,000 on a ring as a gift for Cameron Smith's wife, made no offer to reimburse Pearce.

I'd like to think Peter V'landys might have a greater appreciation of fair play.

Mitchell Pearce deserves a discount. Fifty grand strikes me as a nice, round number, which would mean he is still $25,000 out of pocket.

Much maligned throughout his career, I doubt you would find anyone who has played alongside Pearce, or coached him, with a bad word to say about the 31-year-old.

This week, as he prepared for his 300^th NRL game, he could not have done any more to promote rugby league.

In a way, he's a real role model, not some cardboard cut-out spouting cliches.

Whatever mistakes he's made over the years, he has put up his hand and owned them. It's about time the NRL did likewise. Over to you, Peter.