It's not clear whether the journalist solicited Marie Josée Ta Lou's opinion on the track-centric Netflix series "Sprint" or if the veteran standout from the Ivory Coast volunteered it, but she made plain that the show underwhelmed her.

Her main problem: It focused on gold-medal winners at the expense of other elites who also offer compelling plotlines to a season-long narrative.

"You don't show only people who win, because track and field is not about only winning," she said. "It's about people who overcome different situations, good or bad."

If you think of "Sprint" as a pure documentary, aimed at telling the best story possible about a season in the life of the Diamond League, Ta Lou has a point. But if she prefers no-nonsense docs that dive deep, and elevate compelling characters regardless of their fame, she should try QB1, the football series that introduced us to a young Justin Fields.

"Sprint" is an infomercial dressed up as a documentary. It doesn't want to tell a story. It wants to sell the sport. Big distinction. That Netflix greenlit two seasons marks another breakthrough in the Drive 2 Survive era of sports marketing.

I'm old enough to remember when advertisers bought airtime during broadcasts, and the only thing the audience paid was attention. Now it costs $22.99 a month to watch long-form ads from Formula 1, the NBA, NFL, PFA and ATP, and now World Athletics, the governing body behind "Sprint."

The move makes sense for World Athletics. They're looking to expand their U.S. audience, and a series focusing on English-speaking athletes in high-profile events is the most direct path to a North American sports fan's consciousness.

Season 2 drops November 13. It'll chronicle the run-up to the Paris games, and try to help solve one of the sport's most stubborn problems — keeping American viewers interested during non-Olympic years. This off-season the problem is even more complicated than normal.

WATCH l Athletics North — Campbell discusses track and field's eternal challenge:

American sprint legend Michael Johnson is launching Grand Slam Track, a well-funded U.S.-based alternative to the World Athletics-run Diamond League. Last week World Athletics announced it would increase total prize money to $9.25 million US in 2025. Grand Slam Track is offering $12.5 million shared among fewer athletes.

Either way, the Diamond League faces competition for talent and attention. Sydney McLaughlin, the best 400-metre hurdler in history, has committed to Grand Slam, as have Fred Kerley, the 2022 100-metre world champ, and Melissa Jefferson, who won bronze in Paris over 100 metres.

• Purists might grumble about Michael Johnson's Grand Slam Track league, but fans will still watch

Those athletes are still eligible for U.S. national championships, which means they could still wind up at next year's world championships in Tokyo, but that event doesn't kick off until September 13. So instead of appearing on American sports fan's radars in late summer, and presenting a welcome alternative to Dog-Days-of-Summer baseball, world championships are scheduled to butt heads with the NFL. I'd wish them luck in winning that battle for attention, but it'll take a lot more than good fortune.

It'll take smart marketing strategy.

Ideas are percolating already.

Do I think any of them will gain traction?

Let's see…

We all watched pole vault world-record holder Mondo Duplantis run 10.37 to dust 400-metre hurdle star Karsten Warholm in a 100-metre match race and even the most serious track fans among us can admit we either learned something or had fun. Personally, I enjoyed watching Duplantis demonstrate how foundational footspeed is to world-class pole vaulting. I'm not sure if Duplantis has ever played football, but his current 10.37 — as opposed to some years-old PB — makes him the fastest guy on just about every NFL team's roster. Measured against regular people, he's blazing fast.

But by world-class track standards he's fast for a pole vaulter, which damn near makes him a Clydesdale compared to Noah Lyles and Kishane Thompson. If there was a big market for 10.37-second 100s, more people would watch NCAA Division III track. Duplantis's track fame helps, but not by much.

Put another way, elite sport depends on elite performances, and I can't think of any other sport that has earned long-term audience growth via novelty events, or profited by forcing stars to compete outside their specialties. Would you pay to watch Vladimir Guerrero Jr. pitch? Patrick Mahomes return punts? Auston Matthews in goal?

Be honest.

If I'm not already watching world-class track, I'm not changing that habit to see Mondo Duplantis run a time that might not win a state high school title in Texas. Force feed track fans too many gimmick races and we just might tune out.

Johnson has spoken publicly about inviting Tyreek Hill, the all-pro NFL receiver and world-class braggart, to a Grand Slam meet to test his speed against professionals.

In the 80s, when players made less money, and supplemented their salaries in off-season competitions like the NFL's Fastest Man, it might have been easier to lure NFL speed demons to an upstart track league. But if Johnson offers a big enough slice of that $12.5 million in prize money, he might convince some cornerbacks and receivers to dust off their track spikes. The NFL player gets paid to test his straight-line speed, and the track meet gets to borrow that player's audience, with a chance to convert them into fans.

• If thirst for attention were an Olympic event, there'd be a photo finish between Tyreek Hill and Noah Lyles

Everybody wins.

If you don't believe me, ask D.K. Metcalf, who didn't embarrass himself in the 100 metres at the 2021 Mt. SAC Relays, but got mainstream sports fans talking about a domestic track meet. In May. Of a non-Olympic year.

Imagine the NBA had a national broadcast deal in Canada that put big games on easy-to-access TV channels, but that its U.S. contract was with a specialty site that charged $30 a month.

You can't imagine that scenario, because it would never happen in a major sport. Big leagues partner with big platforms to reach the largest possible number of viewers.

Track, if you haven't already figured it out, is different. Canadian rights to Diamond League meets remain with CBC, but next season U.S. rights will move from NBC/Peacock, to FloTrack, which knows hardcore track fans will gladly scale their paywall.

Grand Slam Track has big names but no TV deal yet.

And what about the drive-by fans who watched the Olympics, or "Sprint" and now want to see more of Noah Lyles and Julien Alfred?

Their choices are clear: pay up or move on.

Except by the time next outdoor season arrives they might already be long gone.

Not an ideal situation for the sport's stakeholders.

But at least it's familiar.