Hoy, one of the more remarkable Scottish competitors in his nation’s sporting history, wasn’t interested in listening to mealy-mouthed pleas for a second chance from the Englishman.

Instead, as he wrote: “Dwain admitted taking banned substances for a long period of time and his was a premeditated crime. Drug cheats don’t just risk their own reputation, they are trying to deprive honest, dedicated athletes of the medals they deserve. And what’s the punishment? A year or two out of the sport. That is not enough. In my opinion, the IOC should be banning them for life.”

It was a cogently-argued case, which sliced incisively through the waffle and legal mumbo-jumbo that often surrounds these matters.

In which light, one wonders what Hoy will make of Commonwealth Games Scotland’s volte-face in permitting David Millar to represent his country at next year’s Games in Delhi.

At best, this looks horribly like a case of blatant double standards. At worst, it provides plenty of ammunition for people who believe Scots are turning soft on those who commit offences.

The bald facts don’t lie. Millar was banned from cycling for two years in 2004 after being found guilty of using the performance-enhancing EPO. It wasn’t an isolated transgression, nor did Millar suddenly wake up one morning, realise he had driven a bus through the regulations and own up willingly to his misdemeanours.

If anything, as those of us who sought to catch up with him when the story broke can testify, Millar went to ground quicker than his near-namesake, Lee, in the penalty box, as the prelude to insisting that he had been the victim of some ghastly mistake.

Indeed, one suspects it was only when the French authorities threated to begin legal proceedings against the Scot that he recognised he might end up behind bars.

Since his return to the saddle, Millar has been heavily involved in anti-doping campaigning and educating youngsters on the perils of thinking there is any easy way to success. This is commendable, but it doesn’t make his original behaviour any more palatable, nor, as in the case of Chambers, lessen the stain which he brought on himself and his vocation.

As things stand, he is banned sine die from participating in the Olympics and those of us who applaud genuine sporting excellence believe that is the correct judgment on his wrong-doing. Yet now, at a stroke, Millar has been granted a reprieve, he will line up with Hoy when the Scottish team flies off to Delhi next summer, and, in all probability, will return with a gold medal in his pocket.

It doesn’t take a dyed-in-the-wool sceptic to perceive there is something rotten about this decision by Scotland’s Games officials.

For starters, one wonders if they would have been so keen to rehabilitate the 32 year-old if he was an ageing decathlete with a dodgy hamstring, rather than a cyclist with a terrific chance of making the podium and adding to the medal tally.

Secondly, what sort of message does it send out to those youngsters aspiring to participate at the Commonwealth Games in Glagow five years hence?

If Millar is truly penitent about his use of EPO – and we have to accept that his contrition is heart-felt – there are plenty of other Tours on the cycling calendar where he can lock horns with the big guns and win cleanly. But not in an event where his involvement will invariably see the words “former drug cheat” appended to his name.

This might sound harsh. Yet it was Hoy who lamented the guilt by association which existed in his domain; the maddening accusations that “everyone was on drugs”, which blighted those who thrived on their own skill, commitment, endurance and desire.

There is no difference between Chambers and Millar. They flouted the regulations, profited from their crimes, and were eventually rumbled by their govering bodies. Neither is welcome at the Olympics. And Millar shouldn’t be welcome in Delhi either.