
Alberto Contador has ridden in some of the most controversial teams in the modern era and been banned for doping (Photo: Sirotti)
It is difficult to know how to view another major success by a rider as exciting and capable as Alberto Contador considering he rides in a doping shadow, writes Cillian Kelly.
He raises himself up out of the saddle, as he usually does when the road starts to rise. 'Dancing' is the term often used to describe the motion of a climber of his ilk.
But if he's a dancer, he's one who regularly misses a beat.
With every second down stroke, his shoulder dips to one side, his body twists ever so slightly and he gives a subtle flick of his head.
The unbecoming style has nothing to do with the dislocated shoulder he suffered in a crash last week, this is the he always rides.
It gives an asymmetrical look to his 'gatch', as they'd say down in County Cork.
But despite the flaw in his cycling, he's undoubtedly the greatest Grand Tour rider of his generation.
He's also a doper.
Alberto Contador currently leads the Giro d'Italia and with every passing stage, he looks more and more likely to be capable of adding another Grand Tour victory to his palmarès.
He's fantastic to watch in a bike race. He wins stages, attacks from the front, never gives up and doesn't seem to be capable of riding defensively.
But for Contador now, any appreciation of his abilities as a rider must come with the caveat that he has previously served a two year ban for an anti-doping violation.
Contador, more than most other riders, sums up the dilemma faced by cycling fans.
Can you appreciate Contador the cyclist while completely ignoring Contador the cheat? Or do you look at every one of his attacks now through dope-tinted spectacles?
To bed yourself completely in the former camp, you risk being labelled an enabler, a fool, a purveyor of Omertà.
But to submerse yourself within the latter is to be a cynic, a troll; someone who shouldn't even bother watching cycling.
It's extremely difficult to constantly walk a tightrope between the two.
Ten Tours de France have taken place since Contador rode his first one back in 2005. Of those 10, Contador, according to the record books, has only ridden half.
In 2006 he was implicated in Operation Puerto - although subsequently cleared of any wrong-doing himself - and his entire Astana-Würth team were forced to withdraw on the eve of the race.
In 2008, despite being the defending Tour champion, his Astana team were not invited to take part due to their past involvement in various doping affairs.
In 2010 he tested positive for having ingested the banned drug clenbuterol. The case was not resolved until February 2012 at which point he was stripped of his 2010 victory and his fifth place in 2011 was also expunged.
As a result he was also banned from taking part in the 2012 edition.
From ONCE to Liberty Seguros to Discovery Channel and on to Astana, he has been part of some of the most controversial and dope riddled teams in the sport's history.
Consequently, he has also been guided throughout his career by various personae non gratae - Manolo Saiz, Johan Bruyneel and Bjarne Riis.
There is also the aspect of his 2010 clenbuterol case which the anti-doping authorities were forced to ignore because there weren't provisions in the rules which allowed them to use it.
And that is the presence of plasticisers in his urine which indicate a possible blood transfusion had taken place.
The authorities were not allowed use this information in order to base any sort of decision. But we can use this information to form an opinion whatever way we like.
This all makes watching him construct another Giro victory rather unsettling.
He's not exactly faced with a set of 'A' list rivals at this race. They're all saving themselves for the Tour in July.
But at 32 years of age now, Grand Tour wins don't come easy.
Regardless, Contador's feathers have only been ruffled so far by that innocuous shoulder-jarring crash on stage Six to Castiglione Della Pescaia.
Do we exalt and praise his fighting spirit; a triumph in the face of adversity? A victory over the truly evil villains of the story, his old team Astana?
Or do we despair that a former doper is winning another race?
Potentially taking the win, the plaudits and the prize money away from a rider who has been clean his entire career?
If you were to take one of his almost imperceptible tilts of his head in isolation, you might think he's gesturing for you to come and follow him. 'Come on, are you right? Let's go'.
But to follow Contador throughout his career has not been a straightforward journey and it remains a moral dilemma which encapsulates all that following this strange sport entails.
So while Contador keeps tilting his head as he bobs his way to another big win, we'll be watching on with our own heads at an angle.
Not due to a quirk of style or a dislocated shoulder, but due to a heightened sense of doubt along with an awareness at what the Spaniard has left in his wake these past ten years.
It's been beautiful to watch but utterly controversial in its nature. And like everything Contador has created in his career, it's never been boring.
