When Oscar Pistorius touched his blades to the tartan track of E20's hallowed ground, he became immortalised in the Olympic Hall of fame. The first double amputee ever to compete in the Games, he was the shining emblem of hope and optimism among a worldwide community of people who have suffered the misfortune of physical trauma or genetic disability. Yet, as news of the fatal shooting of 29-year-old law graduate and model Reeva Steenkamp emerged on the morning of Thursday 14th February, it seems that disability sport's indisputable global icon has fallen from grace in a manner that has chilled the world to the bone.

The spectrum of interest surrounding the incident has inevitably grown: initial shock and speculation has now extended to a wider, more politicised field where concerns over the link between self-armament and gun-crime have surfaced. In sporting terms, Pistorius's iconic status has been brought into question: particularly in Britain where, with the exception of Simon Barnes and Melanie Reid of The Times, he was been widely denounced as a self-interested showman turned tyrannous villain. His long and ultimately successful battle with the International Amateur Athletics Federation (IAAF) in 2008 saw him cross the boundary into the mainstream to compete with able-bodied athletes; a personal crusade that was seen at the time as drawing unprecedented attention to disability sport while paving the way for others to do the same. The impact of this was illustrated abidingly last year when, still bearing the fresh sweat of a record-breaking run in the T44 400 m final on his forehead, he was pictured with seven-year-old Pollyanna Hope, an aspiring Paralympic showjumper who branded him her hero.

Closer scrutiny of the Court of Arbitration for Sport's ruling has since revealed that, on paper, there was no such implication of altruistic behaviour on Pistorius's part, as it 'has no application to the eligibility of any other amputee athletes'. This has always been the source of criticism close to home. 11-time Paralympic medal winner Baroness Tanni Grey-Thompson believed he should be forbidden from competing in the Paralympics in the view that his involvement in the Olympics would diminish the significance of the former, turning his discipline into a 'B' race. Her point rings true on a larger scale: Pistorius's brand-enhanced quality of living, neatly demonstrated by Rick Broadbent in The Australian (where he compares Pistorius's superior living quarters with Great Britain's David Weir), has led to a blurring of boundaries that can be seen less as a triumph for disability sport, and more connoting of inequality within the field. Given the multiplicity of British success in last year's festival of disability sport, one might reasonably argue that the achievements of Weir, Ellie Simmonds, Martine Wright &co. are infinitely more deserving of the fame and fortune enjoyed by Pistorius, for whom the arguably abiding memory for Briton's last summer was a petulant post-race rant after his defeat to Alan Oliveira in the T44 200m.

In light of recent circumstances, this incident seems to construe a graver insight into Pistorius's psyche; a surface crack that represented an underlying problem of rage that would later expend itself in domestic tragedy. However, what we actually saw was a prime example of Ed Smith's 'Zidane's Kiss' model, where the global superstar reacts in an irrational way when the script fails to play out. In a state of extreme disillusionment, Pistorius's bitterness at the failure to secure all-conquering Paralympic glory manifested itself in an unattractive tirade of ill-feeling towards his successful adversary, concerning the somewhat tenuously related issue of blade-length. This epitomises the power the media has to extract every negative meaning possible from previous unsavoury episodes in Pistorius's life, and shout them from the rooftops in a way that writes him off as guilty before he's even made it to the dock. Take, for example, the now infamous boating accident that threatened his life in 2009. At the time, it was used as another means of projecting a remarkable tale of 'triumph in the face of adversity', a proverb that has hitherto characterised his whole brand. It is now being dug up and re-prescribed as a reckless, alcohol-fuelled joy-ride gone wrong; embodying a 'need for speed' which has been connected with all manner of past incidences of hot-headedness, such as his threat to break the legs of millionaire Quinton van der Burgh.

Trace a common thread through these occurrences and you have a logical conclusion as to what went on behind the high gates of suburban Pretoria's Silver Lakes complex. The problem is that it doesn't match up with the charge: cold, calculated, and crucially 'premeditated' murder; an accusation that is looking increasingly likely in the wake of recent court evidence that the first shot was fired at Ms Steenkamp as she sought safety in a locked bathroom. Paired with the assertions of his neighbours that she had arrived at the house at 6pm the previous evening and the couple had argued through the night, this new evidence is stacking the odds against Pistorius's 'intruder' defence - a claim that drew surprise even in its infancy from police spokeswoman Brigadeer Denise Beukes. All this has yet to deter a sizeable degree of support for Pistorius from the media and the public, however. Barnes and Reid, both of whom have a personally vested interest in the worldwide acceptance of disability, have chosen not to speculate on the as yet unconfirmed verdict, instead opting to champion Pistorius's status as a pioneer in his field and a symbol of local and global equality. South African newspaper The City Press's daily poll revealed that 52% of its voting readership (1,945 correct to Sunday afternoon) believe either that Pistorius is 'innocent until proven guilty', or that the issue should be left to the court. Big-name brands such as BT and Oakley have yet to withdraw their sponsorship of the beleaguered athlete.

Unfortunately for people who championed these qualities in Pistorius, the 'intruder' defence presents a terrible irony: Reeva Steenkamp was killed (accidently or not) in a barricaded house shrouded by a high barbed-wire fence, the incumbent of which was armed and guarded against imposters - despite claims that his success and determination transcended boundaries of racial inequality. This depressing realisation has been compounded by the recent revelations that Chief Investigator of the case, Hilton Botha, faces seven murder charges of his own for a shooting incident in 2011 that has only just re-surfaced. A sad reflection on a country that, for all its post-Apartheid postulations of being the 'rainbow nation', is still dubbed the 'Crime Capital of the World'- a point which inevitably gives rise to a broader discussion of fear and self-armament, as well as suppositions about an endemic culture of partner-abuse in South Africa.

In this particular case, however, it seems most appropriate to dwell on the deep personal loss suffered by the family and friends of Reeva Steenkamp. Described by her publicist as an 'angel', her premature passing has prompted outpourings of sympathy from all corners of the world. Whether the iconic status of arguably the most groundbreaking sporting figure of the 21st century will permanently decline remains to be seen.