Published: 23 April 2020
Last updated: 4 March 2024
IT WAS A RISE as sharp as any in rugby league administration. And some 12 years on, the fall of Todd Greenberg was as abrupt and as final as these things tend to be.
The consummate politician who ascended to the game’s top job after less than a decade in the code met his match in Australian Rugby League Commission chairman Peter V’landys. Those who practice in the dark arts of political manoeuvring are typically swatted to one side by an empowered strongman on a mission. Greenberg was no exception.
The end should not define the whole, though, and despite the harsh and graceless end to his tenure as boss of rugby league, his legacy is far more complicated than the agenda-driven epitaphs being delivered across the mainstream media outlets.
For reasons not exactly clear but likely to do with his lack of playing pedigree, Todd Greenberg was often viewed as an outsider in the code. However, his lineage stretches right back to his grandfather Dr Les Greenberg, who was the first medical officer of the NSW Rugby League.
Todd grew up loving the game but it was cricket that he excelled at. A talented left-handed batsman who played first grade cricket with Randwick, usually batting first drop, he represented Australia at two Maccabiah Games. His first job out of university was with Cricket NSW and the young Greenberg, who had aspirations of wearing the “Baggy Green”, seemed destined for a career in cricket administration.
Yet straight after a job at Cricket NSW, he joined his childhood league team, the Canterbury Bulldogs. By the age of 30 he was running Stadium Australia, aka the Sydney Olympic stadium, a major role that made him a notable figure in sporting circles, particularly rugby league. Ambitious and talented, he leveraged his position to become CEO of Canterbury in 2008 at the very young age of 37.
Taking the role was the making of Greenberg. The once-fabled Bulldogs had spent much of the previous decade drowning in scandal after scandal. Results were poor. It was not an appealing job.
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"I had some sleepless nights beforehand," Greenberg said on reflection of his time at the club. "The Bulldogs were in a big hole. Untold issues off the field with players, with fan behaviour, with corporate governance.”
On his watch, the club underwent a marked cultural change. Greenberg prized players who brought into the values he wanted to instil at the club. He undertook an image rehabilitation that saw the club offer Camp Quality jersey sponsorship for nothing, an offer initially scoffed at until Greenberg won them over. The Bulldogs found success on the field and more importantly, some form of salvation off it.
Greenberg was ascendant and started to be spoken of for higher roles. He was pursued vigorously by Cricket NSW to become its chief executive. It was tempting but Greenberg saw rugby league as his future. He applied for the job of CEO in 2012 but missed out to David Smith. Smith, confident in his standing, brought Greenberg into League HQ to be Head of Football.
There had been some rocky days at the end of his Canterbury tenure - the Ben Barba fiasco in particular - but there was nothing to put the skids on his career progression. While his move to HQ positioned him to be the next CEO, it was a step back from the publicity he endured at Canterbury. He very much flew under the radar.
Although he played a central role in refereeing controversies and the banning of the shoulder charge and plenty of on-field happenings, the struggles of NRL boss Smith seemed to shield Greenberg from any criticism.
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While he was sitting right next to the big chair, Greenberg’s tap for the top job in Rugby League was both protracted and somewhat controversial. The search for Smith’s replacement lasted four months. A global talent agency was hired. The world was scoured. Five months after Smith announced his departure, his deputy got the job.
Only 45 at the time, Greenberg was widely viewed as the long-term custodian of the game. He was young, ambitious, with a long list of achievements in the game, and he was able to both absorb and apply power when needed. David Gallop had run the game for a decade. Greenberg seemed destined to be running the code for just as long, if not longer.
Yet Greenberg’s shooting star had reached its zenith. His four-plus years in charge of the NRL were, one would imagine, hardly what he hoped to achieve. There were high moral moments, no doubt. But few who understand rugby league would argue that his tenure was a success.
If one word were to define the highlights of Greenberg’s time at the top of the NRL it would be equality. Rugby League truly took a great leap during The Greenberg Years when it came to making the game inclusive for all.
He took a courageous stance in using the NRL to advocate for a ‘yes’ vote in the gay marriage debate. He stood firm on enforcing the highly unpopular no-fault stand down rule in an attempt to stop behaviour that ran counter to both community and the game’s values.
While the game is certainly in a greater ethical position, it certainly isn’t commercially. The bulk of the mammoth broadcast deal was blown on unfettered largesse including the NRL.com digital project that has delivered almost no return, and The Bunker, the highly expensive new video review system that has not improved results.
Little was done to harness club spending, particularly on football departments. Hard decisions around relocation, expansion and salary cap penalties, particularly in relation to player agents, were put in the too-hard basket.
In the end, that was the consensus about him from most in the game: Greenberg was too unwilling to make the tough decisions. He was more concerned with style than substance. He sought the limelight of the big announcement but had little interest in detail.
Todd Greenberg enjoyed an astonishing ascent. But when he reached the top, he was unable to deliver on the promise and in the end, it is hard to view his tenure as anything but disappointing.
