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From Medellin to Riyadh by way of Chicago and Birmingham, it’s been quite the journey for Jhon Duran – and he’s only just turned 21 years of age.

Duran’s transfer from Aston Villa to Al-Nassr is both emphatic recognition of his potential and a slightly sad confirmation that the riches of the Saudi Pro League can indeed tempt even very young players away from clubs competing in the Champions League.

Setting aside the moral implications of playing in the Saudi Pro League, Duran’s move is seismic.

Jhon Duran: an Aston Villa firecracker about to fade from view?

Duran’s new team-mate, Cristiano Ronaldo, was 37 years old when he joined Al-Nassr. Other players have moved to the SPL, some famous and on the decline, others much younger and less established. None has attracted a reported fee of £65 million plus add-ons with his best years ahead of him.

The player has been criticised for a lack of ambition, for greed, for all the usual perceived offences that come with any transfer that has more to do with money than anything else.

The move does tell us a few things about Duran, but it tells us about Villa and the Saudi Pro League too.

Ronaldo and Karim Benzema, even N’Golo Kante and Mohammed Salah, are achievable acquisitions for whichever league is investing heavily in ageing star talent at any point. In years gone by they could have ended up in China or America or Australia.

Duran is different. Maybe the Saudi league is different too. Players who move to global growth leagues at the age of 21 while their teams are still in the Champions League and their reputation is sky-high are vanishingly rare at best. This big deal? It’s a big deal.

Despite being definitively second choice behind Ollie Watkins, Duran’s contribution to Villa this season was immeasurable.

A deal that makes sense for all parties – but only financially

Seven Premier League goals in four starts can be counted. A goal every 90 minutes can be calculated. Even European prize money can be totted up. But scoring the only goal of the game against Bayern Munich in the Champions League, at Villa in particular, is priceless.

Duran is an exceptional prospect – unpredictable, sure, but also a consistent threat and a nuisance and absolutely lethal on his day.

There are very few like him anywhere, much less with 15 years of football ahead of them, yet Villa demonstrated little resistance to his departure. There’s been no indication that Unai Emery or anyone else is glad to see the back of Duran, but nobody seems all that sorry that he’s gone.

If that suggests he’s difficult to manage or not willing to fight it with Watkins for a place in the team, maybe there’s some truth in that. It’s not difficult to see Duran’s point, though. If he’s not going to get a chance when he’s smashing in goals like they’re going out of fashion, what’s he fighting for, exactly?

That selling Duran to Saudi makes sense for Villa isn’t a reflection on him but an indictment of what modern elite football has become.

They’ve made serious money on a young player who isn’t in the team regularly and that’s an addition to the balance sheet they just can’t ignore. Without getting into the pros and cons of the Premier League's Profit and Sustainability Regulations (PSR) and UEFA’s Financial Fair Play (FFP), the simple fact that so many decisions come down to cells in a spreadsheet is a real shame.

While it’s right to legislate against limitless spending and loss-making, Villa should be motivated to scrap tooth and nail to hold on to Duran. Instead, they’re waving him out of the door with a sigh of relief to offset the regret.

The deal makes sense for Villa, for Al-Nassr and for the Saudi Pro League, but it was made possible by the fact Duran isn’t the average 21-year-old footballer.

His decisions are his own. He might be grabbing at the money on offer, but he might just as easily be aware that Saudi money might never come back around for him. Nobody but Duran can really have an informed view on his choice to make hay while the sun shines.

Maybe Duran will fade from view. Maybe he’ll be such a success that he helps move the Saudi Pro League forward. Maybe he’ll just pocket a load of cash and come back to Europe an extremely wealthy young man and resume his Champions League career without missing a beat.

That’s all up to the player himself, but it’s worth reflecting on what all of this means for football as a whole.

How did it get here? Is it where we want it to be? And are we so far down the path of pecuniary dominance that it’s too late to turn back?