It's one of those questions we'll never know the answer to but the thrill is in the supposition.
In the same week Jack Gibson's excellent biography - Supercoach (The Life and Times of Jack Gibson) - was launched, the troubled Todd Carney was pulling on his third NRL jumper in as many years.
It begged the question: What would Big Jack have done with T Carney?
A player blessed with all the skills in the world except the ones that matter the most - life skills.
Would Jack have given him a size 12 up the backside and told him to piss off, never to darken his door again?
Or would he have put those big arms around him, given him a frank man-to-man talk with an economy of words and trusted Carney to do the right thing because he'd given him another shot?
Jack's coaching career was long over when he passed away aged 79 in 2008, but author Andrew Webster gives us some insight into the Gibson philosophy on difficult to handle players.
The book re-tells the story of star Eastern Suburbs fullback Russell Fairfax, a dual international who these days makes a crust on Fox Sports, and Gibson's move to instil discipline in the mid-70s.
Knowing Fairfax's fondness for a big Friday night, Gibson shifted Easts' 8am Saturday training run to a suburban ground just a drop kick away from the fullback's home so he could have no excuse for not being on time.
Fairfax awoke from another colossal evening on the ink with just a few minutes to spare before training started, driving like a maniac to the ground but not before the session had begun without him.
Thinking quickly, he covered his hands in car grease before confidently walking up to the coach and declaring: "Sorry I'm late, Jack. I couldn't get the car started."
Big Jack retorted: "That's fine son. Go introduce yourself to the second grade coach, Terry Fearnley. He's a mechanic."
Another anecdote put star halves pairing Johnny Peard and John 'Monkey' Mayes at an eastern suburbs pub aware Jack's 9.50pm curfew - 10 minutes before closing - was fast approaching.
They quickly scooted, knowing Jack had the ear of every publican in town, but not before witnessing a fight between their two prop forwards Ian Baker and Kenny Jones outside the pub.
Peard and Mayes ignored the two warring team-mates and drove off in haste, only to be pulled over by the cops for speeding.
Thinking it better to break the news to Jack first-hand rather than wait for the inevitable, Peard rang his coach and confessed to the speeding ticket.
Gibson: "Were you breathalysed?"
Peard: "Yes, but I wasn't over the limit"
Gibson: "Good, I'll see you at training Thursday night."
Then came a painful pause before Gibson added: "By the way, Peardy, who won the fight?"
Iron fist in a velvet glove.
The book charts Jack's early days as a journeyman player for Easts, Newtown and Wests and tells of his time on the door at some of Sydney's most notorious illegal gaming houses.
Gibson was also a well-known SP bookmaker, taking on a young Kerry Packer among other Sydney heavyweights.
The after-hours side of Jack Gibson's life has never really been exposed until now and it makes for a fascinating read.
As does the torture, pain and helplessness Jack felt when he lost son Luke to a drug overdose.
You won't have to be a rugby league nut to enjoy this book.
Supercoach - the life and times of Jack Gibson (published by Allen & Unwin) is available at bookstores for $29.99