Paul Thomas writes that while Carl Hayman mightn't give a hoot about it now, his folk hero status here is likely to diminish.
If Graham Henry seeks consolation in poetry, he might now be reflecting on Alfred Lord Tennyson's famous line: "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
According to fellow prop John Afoa, the All Black coaches "love" Carl Hayman, but their love was unrequited. After months of playing hard to get, Hayman ditched his old flame for a playboy from the French Riviera. Not for the first time, the boy next door's homely virtues and reassuring familiarity proved no match for the glamorous stranger with money to burn.
Just how smitten the coaches are is evident in the assertions Hayman is the best tighthead prop in the world. Doesn't that status have to be earned and defended in the international arena?
Hayman hasn't played test rugby since the 2007 World Cup, at which he mainly distinguished himself by being yellow carded for punching an Italian who wasn't in the least intimidated, and by materialising at other people's press conferences with a stocking over his head.
In fairness, he wasn't the only All Black who, for whatever reason, failed to live up to his reputation. Since then, he's played for Newcastle, a club which limps around the English championship's relegation zone, and therefore doesn't qualify for the Heineken Cup, which pits the top European clubs against each other.
Even if he's been a stand-out - reports are mixed - how much can be drawn from that? We're often told that our corresponding competition - the national provincial championship - isn't a proving ground for test rugby.
Never mind: he's simply the best, so the New Zealand Rugby Union scraped together every dollar it could afford in a doomed bid to entice him home.
Watching this process unfold can't have been much fun for the players who have warehoused the All Black number 3 jersey since 2007 - Afoa, Owen Franks, and Neemia Tialata. The implication was that nothing that's happened in the intervening period - neither Hayman's uncertain achievements in another country's domestic competition nor their best efforts in the black jersey - has changed the pre-existing pecking order.
It all suggests that, despite the NZRU's seemingly clear-cut stance on expatriate players, pragmatism can still cloud principle.
One can question the blanket ban on considering overseas-based players for the All Blacks - not least because from the European clubs' point of view it actually makes All Blacks more attractive than local stars since they're never called away for international duty - but on balance the logic is persuasive.
However, it's difficult to reconcile that stance with the willingness to get involved in a bidding war for Hayman: even as the powers-that-be are extolling the virtues of loyalty and playing in our competitions, they ardently court someone who's already shown a preference for a truckload of hard currency.
They tell players that their reward for staying here is the black jersey, yet seemingly can't wait to take it off them and hand it back to the guy who spurned it.
The logic of the NZRU's stance should preclude it from joining the money scramble for the services of expatriates who clearly aren't at the point where all they want to do is come home and be an All Black again. The NZRU should restrict itself to offering polite encouragement: if and when you've made up your mind to return to New Zealand, come and talk to us. It should treat them like it treats New Zealand-based players.
There's an irony in the fact that professionalism, which was supposed to stop All Blacks being lost to rugby league or premature retirement, has cut a greater swathe through the ranks of our elite players than league, careers, growing families and nagging wives ever did.
Hayman will pocket a fortune and should enjoy the Mediterranean lifestyle, but he's na ve if he thinks the package doesn't come with plenty of pressure. The men who bankroll sports clubs are notorious for wanting their pound of flesh, and Toulon's Mr Moneybags Mourad Boudjellal is nothing if not demanding.
During his short proprietorship several foreign stars - Anton Oliver, Jerry Collins, Victor Matfield - have bailed out early and been mighty relieved to do so.
And while Hayman mightn't give a hoot about it now, his folk hero status here is likely to diminish. Perhaps some of that respect and affection might be re-directed to Tialata, who gets precious little of either. He mightn't be the best but he is one of the very few props in world rugby who can scrummage effectively on both sides of the front row at international level.
