1) Michael Johnson breaks the world 200m record, Atlanta, 1996

What Johnson did in this race defies description, almost defied belief. Watch it again. At one point the cameraman has to jerk forwards to keep up with him because he's about to run off the screen. Frankie Fredericks beat the Olympic record by five hundreths of a second, and he was pipped to gold by a clear 10 yards. Johnson's time of 19.32 broke his own world record by a third of a second. No other man in history has run below 19.6. It was one of the few redeeming points of the '96 Coca-Cola Olympics. More importantly, it is a record about which we suspend our disbelief. Unlike Flo-Jo, Ben Johnson and Marita Koch, Johnson is untainted by doping accusations. Like Bob Beamon's 8.90m leap in Mexico City, this was a crystallised moment of brilliance that will linger in the memories of everyone who saw it. Watching it felt like the world had stopped to marvel at a passing comet.

2) Hungary v USSR, Melbourne, 1956

Sport and politics dovetail in the Olympics, and never have they done so more viscerally than in the 1956 water polo semi-final, which was played just 26 days after the Soviet army had put down the Hungarian uprising. More than 2,500 Hungarians died in the conflict, 200,000 fled their homes and 13,000 were imprisoned afterwards. Hungary were gold medalists at three of the previous four Olympics, but were still seen as underdogs by a crowd of 5,500. Having been away from Hungary throughout, the water polo team were keen to exercise their rage. "The pool," wrote Harry Carpenter, "became a bubbling cauldron of spite". "There was a lot of fighting, kicking, and grabbing," said spectator Sonny Tanabe, "I'd never seen anything like it." The water, Tanabe added, was red with blood. Ervin Zador, who scored twice as Hungary went 4-0 up, was hospitalised by a punch to the face. "It wasn't water polo", he said, "it was boxing underwater." Four players were sent off. When Zador was hauled from the pool, Hungarian fans started to riot, and the match was abandoned and awarded to Hungary. Zador, like 44 of his teammates, defected after the Games were over.

3) Betty Robinson wins gold in the 100 metres, Amsterdam, 1928

Given that it was 1972 before women were allowed to compete over 800m, it is strange that more prominence isn't given to the struggle for sexual equality in the Olympics. In 1928 the IOC were forced to include women's athletics in the Games for the first time. Betty Robinson, only 16, became the first female track medalist. She'd been spotted only a year before the final, when a coach had seen her running to catch a train. The 100m final at Amsterdam was only her fifth senior race of her life, the first having been just four months previously. Her run equalled the world record of 12.2 seconds, and she won gold by the narrowest of margins. The result made her a star. When the IOC recanted on the decision and decided to remove women's athletics from the 1932 Games, it took the threat of a US boycott to get them to reverse the decision. The USA wanted to see Betty Robinson run and win in Los Angeles. But in 1931 she was involved in a plane crash. The man who found her body thought she was dead, put her in his car boot and drove her to a mortician - but she was still alive, in a coma. She woke seven months later, and spent six months in a wheelchair. It took her two years to learn to walk normally again. Incredibly, she eventually returned to racing. Unable to bend her legs fully, she couldn't adopt a sprinter's crouch. But she could still run the relay, and in 1936 she won her second gold in the 4x100m.

4) Luz Long tells Jesse Owens where to go, Berlin, 1936

Long, a 19-year-old German, was Jesse Owens' main rival in the long jump in 1936. Owens had already won the 100m, and his legend was in the midst of its creation. Long was tall, blond and well educated. He was so superficially similar to Hitler's Aryan archetype that he starred in Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia - Fest Der Volker. He was a national hero. In the qualifying rounds Long equalled the Olympic record while Owens was struggling badly. The judges had counted a practice jump as one of his three official efforts. Disconcerted, Owens overstepped his second jump. He fell down dejected on the trackside. Long, who had never previously spoken to Owens, introduced himself, and suggested that Owens should try taking off from several inches behind the line. He did, and managed to qualify. In the final Long's fifth jump gave him a tie of third, but Owens' sixth jump, which broke Long's Olympic record, won him gold. Long and Owens walked arm-in-arm to the dressing room afterwards, posing for press photos. "It took a lot of courage for him to befriend me in front of Hitler," Owens said afterwards "You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn't be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment. Hitler must have gone crazy watching us embrace." Long died fighting with the Wehrmacht in Sicily, 1943.

5) Peter Norman wears his badge with pride, Mexico City, 1968

The third man in one of the most famous photographs of the 20th century, Peter Norman was the Australian sprinter who split John Carlos and Tommie Smith in the 1968 200m. Smith and Carlos were pilloried for making the black power salute, suspended by the IOC and given 48 hours to leave Mexico. Both suffered for it when they returned home. History vindicated them, made them heroes even, but that rehabilitation took almost two decades. Norman made his mind up on the spot. Though neither Carlos nor Smith knew him especially, and he had no connection with the Olympic Project for Human Rights, he approached them in the tunnel and said he agreed with what they were doing. Carlos, the more radical of the two Americans, said recently that he'd thought at the time, "Who the hell is this whitey?" and tried to shrug Norman out of the way. Unperturbed, Norman borrowed an OPHR pinbadge from a bystanding American athlete, which he wore to the podium. His actions presaged the attitudes that it would take others years to develop. While the IOC disgraced itself with its attitude, Norman's unshowy solidarity displayed true Olympian spirit. He said afterwards: "I believe that every man is born equal and should be treated that way." He, Smith and Carlos became good friends, and the two men were pallbearers at Norman's funeral in 2006.

6) James B Connolly takes gold in the triple jump, Athens, 1896

Connolly was the first gold medalist in the history of the modern Olympics. His success was a glorious shambles, Connolly's strength of will helping him overcome all manner of difficulties and prejudices. Having dropped out of school aged 15, Connolly went on to study classics at Harvard. A good athlete but a poor scholar, he was refused two months leave to compete in Athens. Told he would have to resign and then reapply for his place next year, Connolly simply walked out of the Dean's office and never came back. Other Harvard athletes had been given the time off, but they were all members of the distinguished Boston Athletic Association. Connolly was too poor to make that particular cut. While the BAA athletes had their expenses paid, Connolly had to fund his own trip. He spent his life-savings, $700, on a steamer ticket. On board he was blackballed by other athletes because of his lack of social standing.

After his wallet was stolen en route, Connolly arrived in Athens to find that rather than having 12 days to train, he would in fact be starting his competition the following day (he'd failed to clock the differences between the Greek and Western calendars). Worse, the organisers had decided that the competition would be a hop-hop-jump, rather than the hop-step-jump for which he'd been preparing. In front of a 140,000-strong crowd, Connolly watched the first round jumps of his rivals, then contemptuously tossed his hat to a point a yard beyond the furthest mark. In the event he went well beyond it, and his mark of 13.71m won him gold. Penniless, he duly started hocking Johnson's Anodyne Linament, before becoming a soldier and then a novelist. In 1949, Harvard tried to apologise for its treatment, and offered him an honourary doctorate. He turned them down.