My mind immediately shifts back two weeks to the men's marathon at the European Athletics Championships in Munich, where home athlete Richard Ringer, who appeared to have shot his bolt after leading with a couple of kilometres to go, discovered some extra energy/inspiration over the final 500 metres and outsprinted the Israeli runner Maru Teferi who looked as if he had run the perfect winning race.

As the home crowds lining the finishing route in Odeonsplatz roared in incredulous acclamation, Ringer arrived at top speed to breast the tape and collapse to the ground with it wrapped around his body. It was an emblem of triumph, clear for all to see.

The tape is a hugely significant historical element in athletics. The flailing ribbon was a constant element as runners such as Sir Roger Bannister or Emil Zatopek recorded their great triumphs.

The tape, these days, is also a key marketing device for race sponsors, emblazoned with their name and emblem. For that reason it is a tradition that will never die.

But while the track tradition may be a thing of history, there is no replacing, or mistaking, the enduring drama of the finish line - with late arrivals still being the most potent element in athletics.

This week we had a classic example as Alicia Monson of the United States, almost, won the women's 3,000 metres at the Diamond League meeting in Lausanne. Having headed a stellar field beyond the predicted point she finished with her arms held wide in triumph - just at the point where Burundi's Francine Niyonsaba, who had managed a huge final effort over the last 30 metres, charged through to win by one thousandth of a second.

The recently concluded European Athletics Championships in Munich provided one of the enduring examples of finishing line drama as home sprinter Gina Luckenkemper, comprehensively beaten in the semi-finals of the women's 100m, drew inspiration from tumultuous home support to edge in front of Switzerland's Mujinga Kambundji, by thousandths of a second, and Britain's Daryll Neita, by one hundredth of a second.

The home supporters reacted to another home win, but the drama of the line was what ramped up the excitement.

The potency of the late arrival was never so clear experienced as in the Munich 1972 Olympic men's 800 metres final, where Dave Wottle of the United States, who had equalled the world record of 1min 44.3sec in the Olympic trials, was plumb last with 300 metres to go.

Despairingly, as he later admitted, he moved past one after another runner in the final stages of the race before passing the collapsing Soviet athlete who had appeared to have done enough for gold, Yevgeney Arzhanov, in the final strides.

As Arzhanov collapsed to the ground, Wottle, wearing the trademark peaked cap that he had sported originally to hold in place his long hair, came through to win by 0.03sec.

Wottle retained his cap during the medal ceremony, something which was interpreted in some parts of the media as a protest gesture, but realised with a horrible start what he had done inadvertently and offered a fulsome apology to the United States, Olympics, God and any other relevant agency.

The recently concluded European Athletics Championships in Munich produced another textbook finish-line drama in the men's 110 metres hurdles, where France's defending champion Pascal Martinot-Lagarde, flinging his arms back and his chest forward, appeared to have retained the title he had won in Berlin four years earlier.

When the analysis was run, it turned out that the French athlete had missed out by the narrowest of applicable margins, one thousandth of a second, to Spain's Asier Martinez, with both being credited with the best European mark of the season, 13.14 seconds.

The irony for Martinot-Lagarde was that he had won his title four years earlier by a matter of two thousandths of a second from the Russian competing as an Authorised Neutral Athlete, Sergey Shubenkov.

The athletics world loves a finish-line drama and if there is any athlete who can claim to be the master, or mistress, of this scenario it must surely be Gail Devers.

At the 1992 Barcelona Olympics she won the women's 100m title by one hundredth of a second from Jamaica's Juliet Cuthbert, 10.82 to 10.83.

The following year she won the world 100m title in Stuttgart by thousandths of a second after she and Jamaica's Merlene Ottey were credited with a Championship record time of 10.82.

Three years later at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics she and Ottey faced up again in the 100 metres final and again the American sprinter was given gold by thousandths of a second after both had recorded 10.94.

These finish-line dramas are some of the most compelling features of the sport's history.