A humble statement, on behalf of the media and the entire athletics establishment. In light of the surprising events at the Stade de France on Tuesday, we wish to make a few minor clarifying amendments to some of the coverage you may have seen over the last 12 months.

For example, when we described the Olympic men’s 1500m final as a head-to-head showdown between Josh Kerr and Jakob Ingebrigtsen we should of course have pointed out these two men would end up finishing second and fourth. When we thrust microphones in front of Kerr and Ingebrigtsen and asked them to take pot shots at each other, we in fact misspoke when we actually meant to be asking them both to trash talk Cole Hocker.

Related: Cole Hocker stuns Kerr and Ingebrigtsen to win shock Olympic 1500m gold

When World Athletics put out a TikTok asking users whether they were #TeamKerr or #TeamIngebrigtsen, an administrative error meant that the third option of #TeamHocker was inadvertently omitted from the content. When the Olympics website published a story that “the competition is between the two fastest runners in the men’s 1500m” this should, of course, have come with the caveat that someone else could easily run faster. We apologise for any confusion these understandings may have caused.

So: about that rivalry. Which until the last 80m of this dazzling, breathtaking Olympic final was still basically intact: Kerr of Scotland and Ingebrigtsen of Norway the gravitational centre around which this race was revolving, just like everyone had predicted. Ingebrigtsen with the endurance, Kerr with the speed. Ingebrigtsen taking an early lead and slowly trying to ratchet up the pace from afar; Kerr content to stay within touching distance, the field slowly and unevenly stringing out like a poorly made spaghetti.

Finally, as they rounded the final bend, we were going to get some answers. Some closure. And of course this has been a long, confected and at times faintly tiresome war of words between two men who were never as far clear of the field as they both liked to imagine. Kerr accuses Ingebrigtsen of being surrounded by yes men. Ingebrigtsen claims he could beat Kerr blindfolded. Kerr claims Ingebrigtsen has no manners. Ingebrigtsen calls Kerr “the Brit who never competes”.

Of course we all lap this stuff up, because on some level we have internalised the idea that athletics is in a parlous state and needs to be sold, to be projected, to be coated in chocolate sprinkles and presented almost as a consumer product. The Kerr-Ingebrigtsen rivalry reliably sold tickets and fattened television audiences. It may even have kept some people in a job.

And it turns out this stuff has actual, real-life racing consequences. Consider: pretty much every time Kerr and Ingebrigtsen have had a microphone thrust in front of them for the last year, there has only really been one main topic of conversation, and both of them have happily gone along for the ride. Every single impulse and stimulus – media, commercial, competitive – has been encouraging them to think of this race as a two-way duel. Kerr was boasting as early as January that he had already visualised how this race would pan out. Well, it’s fair to say he didn’t visualise this.

Because let’s rewatch the last 300m of the race, knowing what we now know. Hocker is fifth at the start of the final lap. On the back straight he moves past Yared Nuguse and Timothy Cheruiyot into third place.

To a roar, Kerr moves on to the shoulder of Ingebrigtsen with about 250m to go. Meanwhile, Hocker moves up on to the shoulder of both, and I’d be surprised if 1% of the television audience watching at home noticed.

Round the final bend, Ingebrigtsen takes a look up at the big screen, and then another. I’m not sure this was a great idea. Because at that point he drifts into lane two to try to block off the path of Kerr, who has anticipated this and is coming around the outside of that lane. They’re still both stubbornly racing each other. So here’s the rub. If neither of them have bought into the pre-race hype, then why do both of them leave a huge gap down the inside for the bloke with the monster kick?

It turns out one person did call this. And fair play to Big Red on the LetsRun.com forum on Tuesday afternoon, who predicted: “Jakob and Kerr get a wee gap on the last lap. Hocker’s midnight-express kick mows ’em down for the gold.” And perhaps the main dissenting voice to the Kerr-Ingebrigtsen duopoly came from the United States, warning that in Hocker and Nuguse they had two rapidly improving runners who had looked ominous in qualifying, if only anyone had been looking.

Perhaps there is a lesson here for all of us: in the power and fallacy of narrative. This is, after all, the most competitive and volatile of events, a function not just of speed or endurance, but luck and tactics and sometimes blind opportunism.

An hour later, Hocker stepped on to the podium to receive his gold medal. He didn’t look stunned or overawed. He looked like he belonged there. Turns out he was the one with the vision all along.