We will not see the likes of Karmichael Hunt again, no. The AFL's lavish experiment with highly paid code jumpers – from rugby league or any other sport – will not be repeated.

At one stage, Hunt was viewed as a poster boy for the AFL, celebrated like Soviet ballet dancers who crossed the iron curtain.

When he booted a goal after the siren to sink the terrible Tigers at Cairns back in 2012, this was viewed as a special moment for Hunt's temporary sport.

Today, Hunt represents an embarrassment to the three sports in which he reached the top level.

The extent of the red faces – and whether they turn purple – will hinge on what happens next in the drug investigation and who else, if anyone, is implicated.

Hunt and Israel Folau were not recruited by the AFL to become genuinely elite players, no matter what optimistic claims were initially made. They were poached for the specific purpose of bringing publicity and profile to expansion teams, particularly when those clubs were in utero.

That the AFL spent several million dollars on a stout 44-gamer who ascended to the level of a solid state league footballer, and on the less successful Folau, will be remembered as a weird experiment that the cashed-up AFL could afford. It would not be attempted in these more austere times.

If Hunt's AFL career is measured purely by the bursts of publicity he provided, his presence can be viewed as a success, though I struggle with the notion that he actually prompted people to purchase Suns memberships. The value of Hunt and Folau peaked in their first two years and especially when the new teams weren't yet playing AFL games.

Hunt was viewed as a solid, affable and professional sportsman who, even if he couldn't play that well, brought the right attitude to the impressionable Suns.

It is natural to wonder whether these impressions were exaggerated. Alternatively, it is possible that he has all those qualities, but has made a succession of bad choices.

The police and the courts will determine the fallout. But whatever happens next, Hunt is the last of the Mohicans when it comes to well-known professional athletes in their 20s crossing to the AFL.

Australian football is not an easy sport to play. It is particularly difficult to master the skills if you haven't been exposed to them in your teens.

Hunt had a rugby player's squat body and, with predictable limitations in play-reading, was unable to master the most important skill of all – winning the ball. He averaged 11 disposals per game with the Suns.

Those modest numbers would be more respectable for a key position player or even a ruckman. Hunt's averages actually exceed those of Mike Pike, the Sydney premiership ruckman who converted from the Canadian national rugby team. But Pike can win hit-outs, take an overhead mark, provide an aerial contest in the forward 50 metres and be a physical presence in stoppages.

Mature code-hoppers have been largely unsuccessful in the AFL. By your early 20s, it is almost invariably too late for a mid-sized running player to make the leap.

Even the Irish players have had a high failure rate, when you consider that there have been just four –  the tragically deceased Demons Jimmy Stynes and  Sean Wight, former Swan Tadhg Kennelly and Brisbane's Pearce Hanley – who have been enduring top-level players.

Carlton's Zach Tuohy will reach 100 games and is a solid player. But from the dozens drafted, the percentages for Gaelic players is poor – significantly worse than the graduation rates from the Victorian amateurs, for instance.

The AFL's head of talent identification Kevin Sheehan estimated that only about 35 Irishmen had indeed taken up the offer once they were signed/drafted.

Sheehan was optimistic about the new Irish crop, including Essendon's Conor McKenna, West Coast's Paddy Brophy and Sean Hurley of Fremantle. Opinions divide among recruiters and coaches about the merits of Irish recruiting, but it's also noteworthy that Stynes and Wight were recruited three decades ago.

That Gaelic footballers have a more natural affinity for the strange Australian game demonstrates the degree of difficulty facing converts – unless they jump sports in their teens, as many kids have in the northern states (Hawthorn's foray into New Zealand was focused on Kiwis in their mid teens).

Kurt Tippett crossed from basketball in Queensland to "AFL" (as the game has erroneously become known) as a 19-year-old, while Lion defender Daniel Merrett was a teenage fugitive from rugby.

The prevailing view in club and AFL circles is that, Gaelic footy aside, the best hope for mature converts rests with the tall athlete and specifically with basketball, which like Australian football, is a 360 degree sport that requires rapid decision making, spatial awareness and ball handling skills.

Basketball's other advantage is that it is played by very tall athletes, of which there are relatively few in the Australian population.

This is why Sheehan and the AFL are continuing to push into the US, seeking 200-centimetre-plus basketballers who have played at college level but dipped out on the NBA.

Sheehan, who runs the American program, viewed Pike as a template for the Americans – a 200cm athlete with ball skills who could play ruck or key position, and wasn't overly reliant on reading the play.

"That's what we're hoping the Americans can do," Sheehan said ofPike.

Collingwood's Mason Cox, thus, shapes as one of the AFL's most interesting experiments.

Cox is the same height as Aaron Sandilands, but is far more nimble, has played college basketball with Oklahoma State and – most improbably – started as a soccer player. Collingwood merely has to teach him how to play.

Cox is 24 next month, which raises another obstacle for converts – time. How long will clubs give a lanky twentysomething American? One long-time AFL recruiter believed  a code hopper in his 20s needed "a minimum of two seasons to make them good enough to play in an AFL senior game ... particularly if they haven't played a football code".

Karmichael's like will not be seen again, but the AFL's hunt for converts goes on.