'I am sorry'

London: Dwain Chambers sits in a Kingston hotel lobby and pauses before deciding on the message he would like to convey to Britain about his divisive presence at the London Olympic Games. It is a simple, plaintive one. "All I can do is say I am sorry," he shrugs. Britain's most high-profile former drugs cheat is bracing himself for the storm he is about to sprint into.

While he can barely contain his gold-toothed smile at the reprieve he received last week when the Court of Arbitration for Sport overturned the British Olympic Association's policy of lifetime bans for drug offenders, he is also genuinely apprehensive about what awaits him when he returns home from Jamaica.

"I have made a mistake, a massive mistake, and all I want is another chance to correct it, a chance to do the best for my country," he says in his first interview since being given the green light to seek selection for the Games.

"To run in my home Olympics? I would say it was a dream come true, but it's not. Because I didn't even bother dreaming. I thought I would be sitting at home watching.

"Now the reality is if I qualify I will be there. That is something I will cherish, it would be an honour and I want to make sure I do it with pride and enjoy it. But I know it won't please everybody." He knows that, to many eyes, he will always be Chambers the cheat.

"I can cope with stuff on the track but nothing is going to prepare me for the rest; there will be a lot of things said and a lot of comments. I don't expect it to be an easy ride."

When news of the verdict broke, Chambers left training here in Jamaica and disappeared to a neighbouring island he refuses to reveal where — to escape any circus and cope with his bonfire of emotions. Even now, Chambers seems a bundle of nervous energy, almost overwhelmed by the events of the past fortnight.

Traumatic period

He says that at first he could not even feel elation that, after a traumatic period of his life when he had contemplated suicide, he was being cleared to shoot for sport's ultimate prize — the Olympic 100 metres. The first Skype call home was an emotional one to his wife, Leonie.

"She was just happy for me because she knows how hard I've worked, how many sacrifices I've had to make to be away from family and kids," he says.

"Tonnes" of texts and messages of congratulation poured in from those who have supported him in his fight, including many from his GB teammates. He was touched, but the whole episode drained and exhausted him. He was so stressed he did not train for a week.

Chambers has had nine turbulent, wretched years since he failed a drug test in 2003 and subsequently confessed to an 18-month doping programme under Balco pharmacologist Victor Conte during which he pumped himself with a cocktail of seven illegal steroids and masking agents.

He reveals for the first time that poor results, bans from the sport's main invitation meetings and the lifetime Olympic exclusion have made him often consider quitting athletics altogether. After finishing fifth at the European Championships in Barcelona in 2010, a race he felt he should have won, he was only stopped from walking away from the sport by the support of his wife and three young children.

There are new battles which the 34-year-old believes he has to win. Not just the one to simply qualify for the Games at the trials in Birmingham next month, but the separate fight to win over unforgiving hearts and minds. Does he believe he will be cheered if he lines up for the 100m final in the Olympic Stadium in August? "I think so," he responds after a pause. "My gut feeling is I've received good support these last few years."

Does he need the British public's backing? "Oh yes. It's like going to a disco and having a DJ, but no music. The party won't work. The crowd keep you going. If the crowd aren't cheering you, it's curtains. It's a done deal." He has sensed a softened reaction towards himself of late partly from those who have been impressed by him preaching the anti-doping message to schoolchildren.

"But then there are people who aren't and, naturally, I understand that. People feel very strongly that if you are selected for your country you should never jeopardise that. And I did. I realise that and the only way I can repay their trust now is by going out there and running to the best of my ability."

To help him achieve that, Chambers made what he felt was the ultimate sacrifice — to rebuild his athletics career here in Jamaica away from Leonie, his two sons, Skye, six, and Rocco, three, and nine-month-old baby daughter Phoenix. He says he wants to tell his children his whole story one day but it is one he now desperately hopes has a happy ending. Back in London, Chambers often drives past the Olympic Stadium, having watched it sprout from nothing and always believing he would never see inside it.

"In the car, my kids say, ‘Dad, are you going to be there?' And always I've said, ‘I don't know'. Well, now I can say, ‘Hopefully'.

"I said to my wife, if I do qualify and make the final, make sure the kids are there because that'll be once in a lifetime and I can say when they're older, You were there'."