Though she has sprinted through track’s summer season undefeated, virtually no one in America has seen her race. And the only splash she made was when she announced that she had split from her husband, C. J. Hunter, a former world-champion shot-putter. “It’s frustrating,” says Jones, as she prepared for this week’s world championships in Edmonton. “We’re always saying that we compete for love of the sport–and we do. But to be truthful we want the recognition too.”

Jones is only the latest Olympic hero to discover that track and field is no more than a quadrennial craze in this country. As soon as the Games are finished, track retreats to its fringe status, on par with skiing or even bowling. And Jones–despite her prodigious talents and cover-girl looks–has no better chance to resurrect the sport than did Carl Lewis, Michael Johnson or Jackie Joyner-Kersee before her. “We get lots of opportunities to compete in front of large and appreciative crowds,” says Jones, who returned last week from the packed stadiums of the lucrative European circuit. “Just not here.”

She doesn’t want to come off as a whiner. After all, her track winnings and off-field endorsement deals with companies like Nike, AT&T, General Motors, Kellogg’s, Panasonic and Tag Heuer provide her with an income well into seven figures. And she has plenty of the less desirable sort of recognition, the stares and whispers when she walks into a restaurant, the star-struck autograph-seekers. “Sometimes,” she says, “I wish I could put a mask on and not have the stewardess yell up front to have the pilot announce I’m on the plane.” But where are the cheering crowds, the dazzling flashbulbs, the television cameras and gushing interviewers? They’re at the British Open watching Tiger tie for 25th place.

She also wishes the press was at least as curious about her on-track performances as it is about her off-track problems, especially her marital breakup. “I really don’t like seeing my personal life in the news,” Jones says. “But I understand that if I want my name in the papers and on the news when I run fast and do these wonderful things, then I’ve got to take it both ways.” She and Hunter had already endured a painful side show at the Olympics, when it was revealed that he had previously tested positive for a performance-enhancing drug. Though the couple separated in February, Jones didn’t disclose it for several months. “You have to deal with something traumatic like that internally, within your soul, before you can deal with it publicly,” she says.

Yet the turmoil of her personal life may have actually helped her running career. More experienced Olympic competitors like Joyner-Kersee had warned her that the post-Olympic season would be a struggle. She would find it almost impossible, they said, to resume training with the same commitment. But the track has always been Jones’s refuge, going back to grammar school, when she would throw herself into practice to avoid thinking about a bad report card. Moreover, she was “aching” to shed her disappointment at falling short of her goal of five Olympic golds. “Marion doesn’t just want to win,” says her coach, Trevor Graham. “She wants to dominate, and that’s what keeps her motivated and sets her apart.”

Still just 25, Jones has not lost a race in four years, except due to injury. Even track fans have become blase about her victories–and, at times, critical when her winning effort doesn’t measure up to their expectations. “Back in 1997, I would win a race and people would go, ‘Wow!’ " she says. “Now it’s not enough. People are, like, ‘You didn’t win by six, seven, eight meters. What’s wrong?’ " Jones–who admits to disappointment that she hasn’t set a world record yet–insists she is still improving and that her future achievements will compel a reluctant public to take notice. She remains unchallenged as the fastest woman in the world, so it’s a good bet that Leno, Letterman and the president will be welcoming her again–in 2004, on her return from the next Summer Olympics in Athens.