There are always three narratives in sport. There's the game and what happened. This narrative is not really a narrative at all. It's indisputable. Zlatan scores wonder volley. That Landon Donovan pass. USA 2-0 Spain. There is empirical evidence, YouTube, archives.

Then there's the media narrative. The range of truth and objectivity here is divergent, contradictory and above all mercilessly shaped like the topography after a flash flood. It's Game of Thrones references, grandiose metaphors that invoke some obscure playwright from yesteryear, and hyperbolic parallels to sporting legends with few video clips.

All of this tells us the circumstances or reasoning behind "what happened". This narrative is completely disputable: salty fodder the media leaves out like cheese on a trap for mice to eat. Snap! Gotcha. This is how you should see it.

Then there is the "what truly happened" narrative. It's often absent in the moment and may be recounted sometime after the fact, when sensitivities have dulled, but it is rarely recounted at all.

Clint Dempsey's move to the Seattle Sounders in MLS gathered up all those narratives, blended them and spilled them out without warning on American football fans.

Dempsey left England with 57 goals, the most ever by an American. His total matches all of the next three Americans in England combined: the industrious Brian McBride, the playmaker Roy Wegerle, and a tie between Joe-Max Moore and Carlos Bocanegra.

Dempsey's goal haul puts him 60th on the all-time Premier League scorers list, the seventh highest non-European. Let that sink in. Clint Dempsey scored as many goals as all but six other non-Europeans to have played in the Premier League. Ever. And this for a player who didn't make the jump abroad until relatively late in his career – and only stayed for six and a half seasons.

Beyond these numbers, the shape of his story has been carved incongruously. Dempsey is the cliched sports enigma. Sure, there were goals by the truckload at Fulham, but as he saw a lot of the ball people asked if he could do it at a bigger club. Sure, they said, he scores goals, but he's not a true goalscorer. Dempsey was never bundled in with Wayne Rooney, Carlos Tevez or even Darren Bent in his time playing out of London.

Then there is the American narrative on Dempsey, which has shifted since 2009. In the 2008-09 season, Dempsey was the shoot-em up cowboy who went out on the range when he felt like it and drew against the competition as and when he saw fit.

By 2012 he had evolved – as Landon Donovan's star and desire waned – to become the top American in Europe. A Champions League-seeking, fire-burning-in-himish, fuck-off, try-shit media creation challenged by US national coach Jurgen Klinsman – "he hasn't won shit" – but then contradictorily given the armband for the national team. American fans find this narrative the hardest to reconcile with his relocation to Seattle – and rightly so.

He was the American football overlord out to prove that the US could play with the best – globally. He aspired to the Champions League. He was going to Arsenal. He defined ambition. He became a centerpiece for Nike.

It's inescapable. Americans, whether fans of the MLS or not, do not consider their league to be the pinnacle. And it's not. US fans want their stars to reach the greatest heights. And the media blitzkrieg around Dempsey since Donovan went walkabout was bigging up the Texan for bigger things.

It was supported by the national team coach challenging his best player and then further talking him up, eager for Dempsey to fly the flag for American skill… because that's what he, the coach, had done. That narrative went kerplunk when Dempsey moved stateside.

The real tale may never be known, but it probably goes something like this:

1. American footballer fights from a tough upbringing to become one of the best 50 footballers in one of the top leagues in the world.

2. He battles for playing time each season and proves himself to new coaches and new teams.

3. Told for the sixth consecutive time that his services are surplus to requirements, he finally says: "Fuck it, I'm the star. I'm not getting a Champions League shot, except as a squad guy at a discount. I don't need to prove anything else. Why should I go down or make a move across to Sunderland or Everton for less money? To prove what?"

4. An MLS club wiggles a massive paycheck, four-year security and a chance to settle his family back in the States. And validate him – more than Europe could or would at this point – telling him that he is the star.

There's a point where every player's personal visage intersects with logic. It's inevitable. It's age. It's the youngster from the Bundesliga who looks like Ryan Gosling's hipster doppelganger who was has just been brought in and plays in the same position.

It's phonecalls like the one Jay DeMerit received from Werder Breman after the 2010 World Cup: "We'll take you. For a year. But here's our terms." Nobody batted an eye when DeMerit returned. Ambition intersected with reality, and reality often wins that one.

It's not Hollywood and it's not the hyped narrative. But it's probably what happened.

• This is an article from our Guardian Sport Network

• This article first appeared on The Shin Guardian

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