Okay so the TV camera wallahs could have averted footage before the start to the NRL match against the Brisbane Broncos and no one would have known the difference.
Of course, it takes a damn good eye to spot something like that on the field - so take a bow alert cameraman who dutifully captured footage of the Piddler on the Pitch that got my wife going again on Tuesday night about why children are taught to empty their bladders before any event that puts them outside within striking distance of a bog.
"What's-the-big-deal?" Steve Gurney may well go on TV to impress that multisport athletes and cyclists respond to the call of nature while pumping their legs furiously at the height of competition - but he misses a major point.
Individuals who choose to be saturated in their own urine are at liberty to knock themselves out provided they aren't going to be a point of contact for others in the 80 minutes of play.
That Packer thought he would get away with it gives a snapshot of his mindset - but I'd be surprised if the Broncos or any other footballers would relish the thought of rolling around on the patch where the Warrior left his calling card akin to a territorial moggy.
It's bad enough the thought of coming into contact with spittle and snot deposits of players at any level of sport.
Officials resort to blood-bin spells for obvious health reasons in contact sport so spit, snot and piddle shouldn't be treated any differently.
Even at the social competitive level of any code there is that important significant ritual of exchanging pleasantries after a game at the clubrooms where players have a drink or two while homing in on finger food such as hot chips and sandwiches.
I can understand players making a beeline for the hedges at Park Island before a game, not that the plant kingdom is complaining.
I cringe every time I hear a toilet flush but then don't hear the sound of an individual turning on a tap to wash his hands, hoping the culprit is a member of a team from a different game or grade come time for after-match speeches.
Slapping an $18,000 fine on the Kiwi franchise from NRL is a joke just as much as the New Zealand Rugby Union giving All Black Jerry Collins a smack on the wrist for kneeling down and whipping it out to relieve himself in full view of TV cameras before a test match against the Wallabies in Christchurch in 2006.
Packer, who amended his flippant twitter outburst of something along the lines of "When u gotta go, u gotta go, lol!", should be banned for a few games for bringing rugby league into disrepute, let alone embarrassing his family and friends.
In fact the Broncos should lodge a protest, claiming they were reluctant to tackle a reeking Packer although "what-happens-on-the-field-stays-on-the-field" brigade will argue otherwise.
Now docking three points off the Warriors, who are already in the throes of a season to forget, would certainly feel more like a knee in the nuts.
Jocularity aside, The Crowd Goes Wild presenter Mark Richardson's revelation that he "followed through" as an opening batsman once before a County cricket match after a bumper serving of bacon and eggs will make every wicketkeeper think twice about getting close to batsmen, especially when a spinner is rolling his arm at the other end.
Okay, we could go on with a rash of examples, such as former Aussie batsman Dean Jones' wetting his pants during his 210-run feat against India in the tied test of 1986 or Englishwoman Paula Radcliffe's pit-stop squat on the roadside during the 2005 London Marathon and so on to justify such acts.
It simply doesn't do it for me even though I am guilty of the five-second rule of picking up food off my dinner table and work station.
A one-off, bed-wetting victim as a child (not too many of us would admit that) I could never entertain the thought of running around a paddock reeking of urine - let alone exposing others to it.
