On many occasions over the last 22 months, I have asked myself ‘What would Vikki do?’ when faced with decisions or dilemmas. My late wife Vikki Orvice had a strong moral compass in life in general and matters of sporting ethics in particular.

She was particularly vehement when it came to doping in sport. Being an athletics correspondent, she especially detested cheats who denied medals to clean athletes.

Yes, she was friendly with many athletes, but it never stopped her doing her duty without fear or favour if anybody failed tests, or failed to be present for them. She worked to expose, and would have condemned, anybody who cheated.

Thus yesterday, following the announcement of Grigory Rodchenkov as winner of the William Hill Sports Book of the Year for The Rodchenkov Affair, I had a lot of thinking to do based on Vikki’s principles and ethics.

After 24 hours of considering the situation, I have decided not to accept the £3,000 for my book, The Breath of Sadness, as a prize for it being a shortlisted title.

If this leaves me open to accusations of sour grapes, then I will have to endure that. If so, it is a very expensive bunch of grapes for me. All I can say is that I would have been pleased for any of the other three shortlisted books and their authors had they won. I tweeted yesterday that my winner would have been Born Fighter by Ruqsana Begum and Sarah Shephard.

When it comes to The Breath of Sadness, it has more than achieved what I wanted for it: to honour Vikki and her legacy and to process my grief and perhaps help others with their own loss. The winning, as gratifying as that would have been, or losing of a prize scarcely compares to the wonderful feedback I have received for the book, especially from those who are grieving themselves.

Before I made my decision, I communicated with people in publishing, journalism and in athletics to gather views. It was clear that many people were as uncomfortable as I was with the decision to honour this book.

As a person inside the sport of athletics said to me: “So he had years of being rewarded and profiting from doping and now he’s being rewarded and profiting for talking about his role in it?”

Now, I believe in redemption. I believe in whistleblowers. I have ghost-written books myself with people who have come clean. Life and sport needs them and I am full of admiration for those who turn their lives around and offer a public service.

The difficulty I have, however, is that Dr Rodchenkov did what he did – that is, providing evidence and corroborating material published previously in British newspapers about the Russian doping programme, at whose heart he was as head of their anti-doping programme (in reality, his job being to ensure Russian athletes were not caught doping) – only when the World Anti-Doping Agency named and shamed him as a result of their enquiries. He fled to the United States, arranged by a film maker he was working with, where he entered a witness protection programme. This all had the feel of needs-must rather than anything principled.

I think the William Hill is a most remarkable award that has down the years done much to promote something I love: the writing and reading of sports books. It has overlooked some great books and picked some curious ones but that is personal opinion.

It has the opportunity to celebrate writers and writing of quality, principles, ethics and integrity but, in my view, it has failed to do that in this case and sent out, via an unreliable narrator, a dubious message while associating itself with notoriety. It is why I cannot accept, in all conscience, the £3,000 and am dissociating myself from this year’s shortlist.

My initial plan was to put that money towards the publishing of an anthology of women’s football writing next year through my company Floodlit Dreams in collaboration with Women in Football. This decision will not jeopardise that and I will be putting my own money into that project instead.

I hope my stance will not undermine that book’s chances next year should it be entered. More women need to win this award but that is another story.

I realise that my gesture may be token, and it would have been easy just to let this slide; to take the money and run. I also understand the potential for social media reaction these days. I can hear Vikki’s fearlessness as a journalist, though, urging me to take a stand for clean sports men and women, and writers of integrity.