A moment of pure sporting magic from Chris Froome

This was sport at its rawest, most thrilling, visceral best. For months, British cyclist Chris Froome has been battling for his reputation. His team, Sky, faces opprobrium for sharp practices and the alleged use of drugs. A shadow was cast across Froome’s remarkable four victories in the Tour de France. “Perhaps it’s not surprising,” critics muttered darkly. Then, last September, Froome failed a drugs test. He denies any wrong-doing and is fighting the case. But the muttering became a roar.

All year, he has been building up to the Giro d’Italia, the third of Europe’s grand races. If he won, he’d be only the third cyclist in history to hold the Tour de France, the Vuelta a España and the Giro at the same time. Many insisted that he should be banned from even taking part.

Reconnoitring the course the day before the start, Froome had a nasty fall. He began the Giro shakily, well down the field. It was another Brit, Simon Yates, who exhilaratingly led the race. Some advised Froome to retire from a futile quest.

Then came Friday, the 19th and most brutal stage, with vertiginous climbs and daredevil hairpins. Froome attacked on the Colle delle Finestre, a mountain that makes my legs shake even at the thought of walking up, with 80km to go. Such was the ferocity of his break that Froome claimed the outright lead. It was a moment as electrifying as Bob Beamon’s long jump in Mexico ’68 or Liverpool’s comeback in the 2005 Champions League final.

I understand the arguments about drug taking. But what constitutes an “unfair” advantage, or what it is to be “clean”, is not as black and white as the drugs warriors seem to believe. And on whatever side of the debate one falls, it’s hard to deny that what Froome did up there on the Colle delle Finestre was something special, the kind of moment for which sport was invented.

• Kenan Malik is an Observer columnist