I know there's no point in saying there's nothing wrong with a few punches being thrown on a football field in the heat of battle; even if that's exactly the way I feel.

I could tell you that players are the last ones complaining about shoulder charges or the risk of injury; but people won't let you get away with such comments these days.

You cannot win an argument with those who sensationalise, exaggerate and take the moral high ground. Our world these days is becoming so paralysed with political correctness it makes me sick.

I'm tired of people who never played the game constantly campaigning to change it. I loathe the faceless keyboard warriors who rage away on social media criticising, slandering and denigrating players, and the media types waving the do-gooders' flag to gain a profile.

I've had a gutsful of football administrators who have zero experience playing our game allowing people from outside it to influence important issues.

I started first-grade football in the 1970s. I don't know what it was like before this time, but it was a violent game when I began.

Every time you ran the ball you were belted, punched, kneed, stood on or gouged. You didn't come off the field when injured - and certainly not because you were bleeding.

If you were knocked out, they splashed you with the watery sponge and back into the action you went. Not for one minute am I suggesting this is how the game should be today; far from it. I'm simply describing my experiences.

Mum didn't want me to play football. She refused to watch because she couldn't handle the injuries. But could Mum ever stop me from playing the game? Not a chance. These days mum watches every game of rugby league on TV. Go figure.

Three times during my playing career doctors told me I should never play again due to the seriousness of injuries I sustained. I ignored the doctors. I understood the risks, played anyway.

Why? Well, it certainly wasn't because I was brave. To be honest, it was probably more because I was scared. I didn't want to give in to that fear.

I didn't like fighting, but sometimes I had to. In those days if they belted you and you didn't hit back, they'd keep on belting you. You had to stand your ground.

As I describe this world of rugby league back then, some of you will be shaking your heads in disgust. Again, I'm not condoning what went on, nor am I recommending this is how it should always be. I'm simply describing my experiences. And if I could live it all over again, I would.

But before you go slamming rugby league as being a poor role model for kids, what about your parental guidance?

What about parents taking responsibility for the education of their own kids, instead of demanding rugby league set the standard for socially acceptable behaviour?

If the school principal doesn't like what he sees on TV, then he should tell the students why he won't tolerate it in his school.

What makes you think the game should have to pull in its horns to educate your students? And why do our game's leaders so meekly give in to these complaints?

People roll out the arguments that a punch or shoulder charge could cause severe damage or even kill. Yes, we know all that. Every tackle in our game can result in serious injury. If you attempted to do what we do, you would get seriously hurt every time. Head clashes and other accidents cause terrible injuries. But we choose to play anyway. If we were to remove all injury risk from the game, there wouldn't be one. Is that what you want?

There is recreational football for those who don't like the physicality of tackle football. Junior rugby league is as safe as any junior sport on offer. The statistics bear out this fact, year after year.

Please don't compare junior league football with the win-at-all-costs professional sport you see on our TV screens. If you don't like some of the stuff you see, tell your kids why it's not right for them to do the same. If they behave badly on the football field, discipline and educate them.

As one football administrator wrote to me this week: "Rugby League is in the collision business. The NRL appears to be in the politically correct and player-safety business."

How can anyone think that sanitising a product built on all-out aggression will improve its appeal? This is poor analysis.

I don't know where we draw the line. I just fear that the rugby league game our administrators are leading us towards could become a game that eventually loses its appeal.

Phil Gould is Penrith Panthers GM