It was inevitable, he thinks, but he also believes that a year behind bars has changed his perspective on matters league and life.
"I had a pattern of getting drunk, getting in a little bit of trouble," Packer told Australian media before his first game for the Illawarra Cutters, the feeder team for the Dragons. "When I was younger, growing up in a rough town, you would say, 'By the way, I can fight so watch your mouth'. This is how you grow up. Now I look back, I know it's not right.
"I had three weeks alone [in solitary], so I had a lot of time to reflect. To me, if it wasn't that night, it would've eventually been another day. Even if it wouldn't have been to the same magnitude, problems would've arisen eventually."
Packer was reluctant to reflect on that night, a night that, like so many before it, started well and ended poorly. It ended much worse for his 22-year-old victim, though, after Packer punched the man to the ground and continued an attack that fractured two facial bones.
"I was very intoxicated," he said. "It just started out as a good night — I've had a lot of nights like that. When you have alcohol issues, and you have problems, it always starts good. Most nights start well, but sometimes they don't end as well.
"I felt I was provoked. Another point of anger, or bit of frustration for me, was for people to say, 'you just walked past someone and hit them'. People who know me know I never would do that. I just don't back away from anyone — there's a big difference — but I learned it's still wrong not to back away sometime when it involves violence.
"For me what I learned, I would rather walk away and have somebody call me a pussy or bitch, all these things I thought nobody would ever, ever call me in my hometown. They'd think I'm weak but really I know I'm strong for walking away."
Another form of strength, the strength to accept he had a problem and needed help, took Packer 24 years to find. Twelve months in prison resulted in that harsh reality, aided by extensive counselling since being paroled halfway through his sentence, a period that was the maximum a court could impose.
It was a problem that developed with the same speed as an ascendant league career, with booze and footy intertwined since, as a 15-year-old, he played for a team who were sponsored by a pub.
"That's where my core beliefs to alcohol and violence came in," Packer said. "I saw a lot of fights. When you are at pubs when you are 15, when men get drunk, this is a problem in society — not just because I am a footy player."
Playing with the Warriors in 2013, Packer endured a downward spiral that continued unabated until the early hours of November 23. Injured or unhappy, he would turn to alcohol to ameliorate whatever plagued him.
He took his destructive behaviour across the Tasman after signing a four-year contract with Newcastle, a deal that was torn up three months later, shortly after being placed in handcuffs and taken to the Surry Hills holding cells.
"That was interesting. I was in a suit and there were a couple of blokes who were clearly alcoholics. We were in a big fish tank. After three days, people who were alcoholics were shaking, there was one little toilet, and that's it. I saw one bloke shake and spew. I thought, 'this is what I'm in for, for another two years'.
But jail helped Packer to ease that anger and begin a period of rehabilitation that was successful enough to convince St George Illawarra he was worthy of another shot. Packer insists his debt is paid but he knows public perception is unlikely to be altered by such platitudes.
Nor does he particularly care what other people think of him, providing he can make amends with his young family, for whom he has an increased appreciation after missing a year of his children's lives. Stripped of his entitlement along with his liberty, Packer at least had time to learn during his 724 days on the sidelines, with those lessons now being employed both on and off the field.
While unlikely to earn registration to play in the NRL this year, there is no frustration. He knows he's lucky to be on the outside, lucky to have confronted his issues, lucky, even, to be alive.
"I don't feel as though I am entitled to anything. When you are in a cell with nothing, your sense of entitlement goes. It goes out that door when you shut it."
