Journalists told her but she wouldn't listen. She'd get snippy and sarky and say thanks for asking but her long jump technique is just fine. She continued to jump like a frog in spasm. Journalists continued to inquire politely. Last night Marion Jones learned the hard way. Journalists are always right.

Her big dream of five gold medals went south in the long-jump pit. She fouled four times in six attempts. On the other two she flew through the air with the grace of a brick. Told you so, Marion.

She was beaten by one of the great icons of athletics, Heike Drechsler, now of Germany, once of East Germany. Heike is 36 at Christmas and has been doing the business for 17 years now. We've watched her grow from clunky East German factory produce to beautiful veteran athlete and if last night was a farewell it was fond on either side of the fence. The audiences love her.

It was a lesson for youth. Drechsler was Marion Jones before you could make millions out of being Marion Jones. At 18 she was the youngest gold medallist at the first World Championships back in 1983. At that time she was also a top sprinter and heptathlete. At the Seoul Olympics she won bronze in the long jump and also took bronze in the 100 and 200 metre sprints. Four years later she won long jump gold in Barcelona. She missed Atlanta.

For once Marion Jones didn't end up on the top level of the podium. For once she wasn't the most interesting athlete in the room. Looking at Drechsler, who grew up behind the iron curtain in the old East German system, one wondered what she had been through for her sport. It would be surprising if she had been spared the "special methods" which made victims of generations of East German athletes. Yet she has had the chance to stretch her career and make something fulfilling and individualistic out of it.

"I don't want to speak about that past," she said. "Life has changed, of course my life has changed. Now I do my sports, I have my coffee, I can relax. Everything has changed. You have to learn a lot. I feel comfortable in my life now."

One thought of that embarrassing moment earlier this year when a journalist asked Jones her opinion on the national debate in America which followed the execution in Texas of Gary Graham. And Jones just looked back blankly. Jones is 24 with a biography in the shops. Drechsler has the story you'd like to read.

Drechsler jumped 6.99 metres, with Fiona May of Italy, once of Britain, recording the same distance as Jones (6.92), but getting the silver on the countback. May jumped further on her second jump.

Jones, who idolised Drechsler's greatest rival, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, as she grew up, was faultlessly gracious about her defeat.

"The only positive thing I can get out of the competition is I can tell my grandchildren in 30 years that I competed against one of the best long jumpers ever," she said. "It's as simple as that.

"The drive for five is not alive," she told us, stretching the rhyming structure to breaking point. "I didn't regret it at all, I had a great shot at it and it didn't pan out. Inside I'm disappointed but she deserved the gold."

Would she do it again, lay so much on the line that no matter what she achieves it looks like failure?

"Maybe I'll do it a little quieter next time," she said. "I know people will say `I told you so' but I can look in the mirror and say I gave my best."

So, she was asked, has it been fun. We meant the CJ business, losing the drive for five, we meant to tug her towards controversy. She made her best jump of the night, smiling for a long time to herself and then replying.

"Fun is winning. That's what it comes down to. I let myself down today. I'll be able to smile tomorrow. Especially if I win two relay gold." And Heike Drechsler looked at her and saw something of herself, perhaps. She nodded and smiled.