The Parramatta Eels fullback is diving in the deep end, but there's a team of lifeguards circling the pool, holding buoys at the ready.

The 26-year-old is jumping off a bridge into a chasm, but there's a bungy cord attached to his ankles.

Bravery. Courage. Guts. Granted, there's an element of that when anyone takes a leap of faith from their comfort zone (especially a comfort zone reported to be worth $1.35 million a year).

But Hayne's decision to quit the NRL for a shot at the NFL isn't such risky business.

Sure, Hayne leaves the NRL at the top of his game, winning a Dally M Medal this year to go with his previous one, and the most marketable player in the sport.

But regardless of whether he succeeds or fails in his quest to make the NFL, Hayne's legend, marketability and demand are only going to get a whole lot bigger.

As Canberra Raiders coach Ricky Stuart suggested to me this week, Hayne's move is like a lead actor in Australian soapie Home & Away trying their luck in Hollywood. Funnily enough, Hayne's first stop in the US is expected to be La La Land, Los Angeles.

And while many say Hayne's dreamin', even most of those naysayers must be captivated by a man pursuing his dream.

Realistically, it's hard to see Hayne's pursuit of the pigskin as anything more than a sabbatical from rugby league. If you didn't happen to catch his teary press conference, word is he's looking for a challenge.

And not just a little challenge, this is Everest without oxygen.

Hayne is a phenomenal athlete, but so are thousands of younger, talented Americans who have grown up in the game, not just playing Madden NFL on PlayStation.

But what does Hayne really stand to lose?

Even uncontracted to a professional team, Hayne has just become one of Australian sports most identifiable and bankable commodoties. His every movement will be monitored. The hyperbole has started, his manager claiming American agents are ringing about this wonder from Down Under.

If Hayne proves me and others wrong, wow, it's one of the biggest stories of Australian sport.

If he doesn't make it, he returns to rugby league refreshed and challenged by a comeback.

It's a stretch to compare, but take sport's ultimate example: Michael Jordan.

The Chicago Bulls basketballer was the biggest brand in world sport but, in October 1993, Air Jordan announced he was quitting because he'd lost desire. He signed on with the Chicago Whitesox, pursuing a dream of playing in the Major League.

He failed, But then he sent the sporting world back into a frenzy when, in March 1995, he issued a two-word press release: "I'm back".

Jordan returned to the NBA wearing No. 45, given his 23 jersey had been retired to the rafters. But by the following season he was back in his regular number, racking up astronomical numbers, and led the Bulls to another three-peat of titles.

Look closer to home, at Anthony Mundine, arguably Australia's greatest ever all-round athlete. Less arguably, he is the country's most divisive sportsperson.

Mundine has had a successful boxing career, won world championships. But he would not have the same marketability had he not been one of the most talented rugby league players, before quitting the sport at 25.

So while Hayne is taking a risk, it is not at all costs.

NRL boss David Smith made an eleventh-hour call to Hayne this week, offering to use his discretionary powers and attract him to stay with a marquee payment.

Hayne didn't cash the cheque this time, but he need only call back if and when he's ready.

Take Israel Folau, probably a bigger name in rugby league now that he doesn't even play the sport.

Folau was a top rugby league prospect, but it's his defection to other codes which has almost made him mythical. Folau was a flop at AFL, has become a star in Australian rugby union. But there's always the suspense that he just might return one day to rugby league and we'll see how good he really can be.

Even when Hayne made his announcement this week, Folau was on everyone's mind as the ideal replacement.

Interestingly, Folau, Hayne and NRL player Krisnan Inu all grew up together in the same housing commission suburb of Minto, in Sydney's south-west. Hayne said his one dream when he started playing professional league was to earn to money to buy his mother, Jodie, a home. He's done that and more.

On the Wednesday before Parramatta's 2007 NRL grand final qualifier against Melbourne, I went to Minto to meet Eels teammates Hayne and Inu.

Every Wednesday, at the suburb's footy ground, kids and adults alike would flock to play touch football at dusk. It was a weekly ritual, Hayne and Inu running among their mates, laughing, smiling and hollering. Just like the day Hayne, Folau and Inu all met.

"We were on the train and I went downstairs to muck around with Inu and Izzy, just kicking the footy,"' Hayne told me at the time. "We were running amok. My mum blew up.

"That's all we had – football. You talk about musicians and how they play music to get away, to escape to their own world. That's like footy.

"I think that's why we're so skilful. We didn't have much growing up, but we had football. We lived and breathed it."

I suspect Hayne just needs a breather and he'll be back. But it's now or never if he wants to back himself.