Wearing a sharp suit and with his dark hair swept back from his imposing brow, Peter V'landys would not be out of place on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.

We are about to find out if the Australian Rugby League Commission chairman will be remembered as a bold investor who saved his game or whether he joins the long list of NRL officials whose stocks plunged further than Gordon Gekko's.

By bludgeoning his way toward a May 28 start-up date, V'landys has made the biggest call in his game's recent history.

The NRL, so often cast as the dishevelled bridesmaid in comparison with the ever-so-prim-and-proper AFL, could emerge as the audacious trendsetter if the game makes an early and successful return to the field. If so, V'landys would be hailed as the innovative administrator who defied the nervous Nellies, scythed through the shutdown red tape and brought sport back to our screens.

Alternatively if the NRL's ambitious return contributes in any way to a spike in COVID-19 cases as fans assemble to watch televised games or the virus is spread within his playing group, he will be pilloried for his selfish bluster.

The stakes are high. You might even say life or death. But the NRL's new czar has created a bull market for his early start-up plans by sheer force of personality and despite the misgivings of those he blithely dismisses as naysayers and procrastinators.

In a world where our daily lives are guided by the cautious words of health official bureaucrats quoting data provided by lab-coated geeks, V'landys's colourful rhetoric has played well with those accustomed to rugby league's aggressive nature and others craving for a distraction from the drab reality of shutdown life.

Bring back the biff?

On Nine's Today Show last week, Pugnacious Pete told Karl Stefanovic: "This is like a boxing match. You take a few blows to the head, a few body blows, but you save your best punches until the end."

Yeah, who needs a vaccine when we can beat COVID-19 by bringing back the biff?

However it would be a mistake to suggest V'landys's aggressive approach appeals only to the testosterone-charged members of NRL jockocracy desperate to resume their highly paid commentary gigs or those fans who haven't seen a pandemic that couldn't be brought to its knees by a Trevor Gillmeister shoulder charge.

V'landys's punchy approach is promising something the data-driven health department officials and unusually fact-observant politicians can't — a return to the daily routine athletes, coaches and fans whose lives are guided by the footy fixture desperately want.

Richmond coach Damien Hardwick spoke for many Australians across all sports on the ABC's Offsiders when he praised V'landys's "aspirational leadership" and wished his sport had also named a recommencement date.

This wasn't quite a right jab to the nose of far-more-cautious AFL chief executive Gillon McLachlan. But such praise from a high-profile Melbourne figure for an NRL boss is as rare as Cronulla premierships and provides some idea of how well V'landys is faring in the propaganda war.

Master networker V'landys was already an aggressive operator

The NRL has set an ambitious May 28 return date. ( AAP Image: Craig Golding )

As a master networker, V'landys had positioned himself brilliantly to take his current aggressive stance well before COVID-19 struck, particularly with the tight leash he holds on the rottweilers of the NRL media.

So slavishly devoted is the coverage of V'landys's fight to save the NRL, no-one bothers to ask anymore how the CEO of NSW Racing can be simultaneously running a rival sport.

Instead, they eagerly anticipate the day when the Roosters-Rabbitohs game is screened on the Opera House sails.

No-one even raises an eyebrow when V'landys claims the NRL, which hasn't yet proven it can protect its own players from life-threatening head injuries, has cobbled together — in just a few weeks — a program it promises will set "a bio-security benchmark".

And at half-time, Gus and Sterlo will be back with the cure for cancer.

Flattering comparisons with other leading sports officials have also helped elevate V'landys's current status as the can-do man of Australian sport.

Jettisoning NRL chief executive Todd Greenberg, who was lumped with responsibility for the profligacy of the game's eternally disgruntled war lords, enhanced V'landys's image as his sport's saviour.

Meanwhile, Raelene Castle was finally hounded out of the ARU, Cricket Australia boss Kevin Roberts has been accused of flinching at the first sign of financial strife and McLachlan's conservatism pales in some eyes besides V'landys's bravado.

So Pugnacious Pete rises in the estimation of those turning their lonely eyes to empty screens as we wait to see if his bluster has convinced NRL-mad Prime Minister Scott Morrison to rubber stamp the May 28 return.

Meanwhile the key question lingers — is V'landys's almost-manic enthusiasm to return to the field driven by the understandable desire to protect the income of the game's many employees and the existence of its clubs?

Or, more cynically, is he pushing the agenda of a broadcaster bleeding subscriptions despite the warning of those supposedly squeamish health officials who have done a colossal job in controlling the pandemic?

The answer could well determine whether V'landys's big call, and even his leadership of the NRL, ends in boom or bust.