There's a general understanding that this year's Paralympic Games will attract far more television viewers than ever before, and that this is due to the success of the Olympics themselves – not just because of Team GB's horde of gold medals, but also on account of the wider feel-good mood created by London 2012's personal stories of commitment and determination.

As the nation holds on to its bright new vision of its multicultural self, it's worth remembering that within those 16 days of sporting wonder and emotional turmoil, one of the most poignant sights of all was that of double amputee Oscar Pistorius lining up on his carbon fibre artificial limbs alongside some of the world's fastest able-bodied athletes. Perhaps the achievements of the South African runner will encourage viewers to watch other Paralympic sports; perhaps we'll come out of the summer having shifted our views on disability as well.

As a curtain-raiser to the Paralympics, The Best Of Men (BBC Two, Thursday, 9pm) went back to the origins of the event – to Stoke Mandeville Hospital in 1944, when neurologist Ludwig Guttman, a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, arrived to take charge of a ward of soldiers suffering from severe spinal cord injuries. What Guttman discovered were men whose psychological states were as much an obstacle to their convalescence as their physical wounds.

As played by the often overlooked, always charismatic Eddie Marsan, Guttman egged on his charges and overcame his adversaries with a mix of guttural consonants and pig-headed resolve. These men were as at risk from red-tape and protocol as bed sore infections. Their broken bodies were also a visual reminder of the costs of the conflict, an embarrassment to some people, an offensive sight to others.

Guttman, however, refused to accept that these "best of men" should merely be made comfortable; he believed they had positive lives to lead. And so he cut them out of their plaster-cast dressings that looked like coffins and got them moving. Crucially, he realised that the innate human spirit of competition could create enough of a spark to motivate them back into the community. And so, through games of wheelchair hockey and basketball, the seeds of the first ever Paralympics – which ran parallel to the official London Olympics of 1948 – were sown.

At times the drama got out its marker pen and underscored its most meaningful lines of dialogue, veering closer to Awakenings or Regeneration than Chariots Of Fire. And yet The Best Of Men bristled with life and attitude, from the sharp tongue of Corporal Wynne Bowen (Rob Brydon ably flexing his "serious actor" muscles while confined to a bed) to the human warmth and professional focus of Guttman, whose own family tragedies must have been great ("the spinal cord is the same for Wilhelm or William").

In its low-key way, The Best Of Men was as inspirational as watching Pistorius make his way to the starting line-up. It told us that physical strength in sporting competition is one thing, but mental strength is quite another, particularly when the prejudices and preconceptions of others have to be out-run, out-thrown, out-scored at every turn.