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Logic, decency and common sense tell us the NFL went easy on Dallas Cowboys pass-rusher Greg Hardy, who will lose only four game checks for a frightening incident of domestic violence in which the victim testified: "I was so scared I wanted to die."

In any world that makes sense, Hardy would receive harsher discipline than a player who is believed to be "at least generally aware of overinflated footballs," as the league concluded about New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady. And yet at the moment, Hardy and Brady are set to serve identical four-game suspensions to start the 2015 season. (Hopefully we've all moved past calling Hardy's 15-week paid vacation last season a "punishment.")

But with any luck, Friday will be the last day in NFL history when we're confused, distrustful or otherwise outraged by its discipline in such cases. The league can now legally and appropriately apply the enhanced domestic violence policy it imposed in August 2014, one that calls for at least a six-game suspension for a first offense and a lifetime ban for repeat delinquency.

The short explanation for why Hardy, Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson all scored victories in their appeals is that the NFL tried to implement that new policy even though the offenses occurred when the previous policy -- one of murky structure that usually limited suspensions to two games -- was in effect. Its weakness was exposed when video emerged of Rice's violent punch to his now-wife. Photographs circulated of injuries suffered by Peterson's 4-year-old son following a whipping incident with a stick. Hardy was found guilty of assaulting a female and communicating threats, but under North Carolina law, the verdict was overturned when the victim refused to testify in the appeal.

In a ruling announced Friday, arbitrator Harold Henderson acknowledged that Hardy's behavior -- the victim said in a complaint that Hardy choked her and threw her onto a couch covered in assault rifles -- was "egregious." But, Henderson concluded, "10 games is simply too much, in my view, of an increase over prior cases without notice such as was done last year, when the 'baseline' for discipline in domestic violence or sexual assault cases was announced as a six-game suspension."

Henderson wasn't making a value judgment here. His job was to determine whether the NFL's original 10-game suspension was equitable under its own policy. The league was its worst enemy in these proceedings. Its now-defunct policy prevented tougher discipline of Hardy, no matter how hard it tried and how willfully it violated its collective bargaining agreement (CBA) with the NFL Players Association.

Fortunately, there is no such complication moving forward.

Now, when an NFL player is involved in a case of domestic violence, the league has a clear, decisive and relatively simple plan for dealing with it. A six-game suspension is the minimum punishment and could expand in specific cases outlined in the policy, which include:

• A pre-NFL offense

• Violence involving a weapon

• Choking

• Repeated striking

• Act committed against a pregnant woman or in presence of a child.

The policy should avoid the ubiquitous and embarrassing public equating between domestic violence and, say, cheating on the field. Of course, we shouldn't rule out a legal challenge by the NFLPA, which was not given a chance to collectively bargain the new policy. It's also possible that Hardy will take the league to federal court in hopes of getting the suspension reduced to the two games he probably would have received under the old policy.

But for those of us who are weary of the legal wrangling, disproportionate discipline and general confusion regarding NFL policy, I think we can now see the light approaching in the tunnel. For the past year, the NFL has had little choice but to take cover, absorb its public pummeling and get to the other side. That's now happened. We can only hope it was a hard-fought victory for logic, decency and common sense.