A visitor will ask for a shower, shoes, somewhere to sleep, something to eat. Mostly, they just need somebody to talk to. They don't need their problems solved - just an open mind and heart.

The frustrating maze of government services means people often slip through the cracks, and if not for charitable organisations such as Wayside there's nobody there to catch them.

Wayside puts life into perspective. It certainly gives professional sport and footy some context, too.

When elite footballers slip through the cracks, there's a coach, teammates, chief executive, welfare department, governing body and - usually - player managers there to catch them.

Players on telephone-number contracts deserve as much support as the person who walks through the door at Wayside.

But this line being trotted out with increasing frequency about players not receiving "enough support" is starting to wear thin. It's a "welfare issue". The club "didn't do enough for me". The game "let me down".

At what point do players become accountable for their actions, including their own wellbeing, like the rest of us slobs sitting on the bus on the way to work?

Last Friday, the NRL deregistered Wests Tigers centre Tim Simona because he bet on matches, bet against his own team, bet on players he was marking to score, and ripped off charities such as Camp Quality to feed his gambling addiction.

The implication is that he's received a "lifetime ban", but it wasn't termed as such because of "welfare issues" concerning Simona.

So it's not really a lifetime ban. It's an indefinite ban.

This is dangerous ground for the NRL. It's been turning over commissioners with alarming regularity. So, too chief executives and chief operating officers in the last few years.

Should Todd Greenberg and Nick Weeks leave in the next two or three years, what's to say their replacements won't take a softer line with Simona?

To his credit, Simona hasn't blamed anyone for his sins - but now others are lining up to point the finger at the Wests Tigers. How didn't they know? What did they know? Player welfare!?

Chief executive Justin Pascoe has passionately defended the club's actions, saying it had no clue that Simona was gambling and snorting away his $325,000-per-season contract.

For those who ask what more could've been done for Simona, consider what was done.

Apart from the many layers of welfare and support offered to every player in the NRL, in the past three seasons he would've been told in no uncertain terms that you cannot bet on games.

As Roosters captain Jake Friend - who has his own off-field issues, but never blamed anyone for them - said last Friday: "As players we all know that we can't bet on games and it's pretty black and white ??? I don't think there needs to be more education on the actual gambling in rugby league."

On top of that, Simona - like every player in the game - in the past three years would have sat in a workshop, alongside NRL, under-20s and NSW Cup players, and watched a trained actor and teammates play out the very scenarios around gambling and the dangers therein.

In one scene, a player asks his teammates in the dressing room after a match if he can lend $20. Then $100. Then more ???

In another scene, a player is standing in a TAB section at the pub when he learns of inside information about another player being out injured, and he in turns provides the inside information to his girlfriend.

In another, a player and a teammate are churning money through the pokies, when the girlfriend of one of the players turns up and leaves her purse behind, allowing the cash-strapped player to feed her money into the machine.

Any of this sound familiar?

Players are given more education and support than most corners of society. It's compulsory for clubs to have two welfare officers, but most clubs have more.

Indeed, the fan would be stunned if they knew how many non-playing issues clubs grapple with on a daily basis; they are compelled to provide "wellbeing reports" to head office. "We're they're parents," said one club boss.

Their duty of care goes well beyond the usual duty of care an employer owes an employee in most workplaces.

When Kieran Foran asked for a release from the Eels five months ago on compassionate grounds so he could deal with mental issues, questions were asked of Parramatta.

Because the club was in turmoil over the salary cap scandal, it was often that Foran's "welfare" hadn't been appropriately handled. Warriors chief executive Jim Doyle has thrown some pointed barbs at the Eels, which hasn't gone unnoticed at the Eels.

In reality, Parramatta, their welfare department and coach Brad Arthur could not have done any more for Foran.

Along with Foran's then manager, George Mimis, and the NRL, the Eels helped facilitate the troubled playmaker's stint in a rehab in Brisbane. Days later, he was spotted at a bar with his mate Eddie Hayson.

Foran is free to play for his new club, the Warriors, from this weekend and good luck to him.

The NRL said in a statement on Saturday that Foran had "paid a significant personal price" because he hadn't been signed to a club for five months.

The last time I looked, it was Foran who had asked for a release. The last time I checked, he also received a $150,000 payout from the Eels.

His abhorrent and abusive phone call to the late reporter Rebecca Wilson has also been excused away because he was, we're told, at the lowest depths of his mental illness.

Everyone or something else is always to blame. Never the player.

The latest blast of faux outrage is now focused on players and their inability to use contraception in dalliances with females. Some question what the game is doing to stop this. What about the clubs?! What are they doing?!

It's been a while but from memory my footy coach didn't tell me to strap on, er, protective headgear. It was my father. Actually, he passed me a book and I read it in front of him.

Ben Barba gets busted for snorting cocaine - and it's the NRL who has stuffed him around as he serves his 12-match suspension. Andrew Fifita supports a one-punch killer on his wrist bands, a year after abusing junior refs - and he's the victim.

Players are well paid but have to balance a whole raft of pressures that nobody understands unless you walk in their shoes.

But I can guarantee they have more support getting around them than the homeless man who walks into Wayside not wearing any.