Interviewing a subject who does not like to talk is never an easy task. It involves rapport-building, ego-massaging and - most crucially - time. Sadly, in the increasingly popular world of Formula One, time is the one thing not widely available.
The interview with Kimi Raikkonen published in today's paper came about after months of email correspondence with the Lotus-F1 media department. Initially, the official line was Kimi was too much in demand and a QnA with him would not be possible. A week later, after further emails back and forth, the offer arrived of an e-mail interview: Send us six questions and we will do the rest.
However, for me, one of the most intriguing aspects of the Finnish driver is not so much what he says, but rather what he doesn't say. He is notorious for shrugging his shoulders, mumbling and dismissing out of hand frivolous questions. Once, when asked to imagine what he might do if he met an alien - run away out of fear or try to talk to him? - he simply waved his hand and replied: "The problem won't arise, so I don't imagine meeting one."
An e-mail interview would provide only half the story - the largely dull, monotonous, predictable half. The offer was courteously rejected and a final request for a physical, tangible sit-down was made. And this time it was accepted.
Rarely does a journalist get exclusive one-on-one access to a top team's driver. McLaren-Mercedes run weekly sessions called "321", where three scribes sit down and share 15 minutes with either Lewis or Jenson. For Kimi, it was something similar, only four journalists and 10 minutes. Or, in other words, 150 seconds each.
Fortunately, in the case of the 2007 world champion, one of the invited sports writers failed to turn up, so we saw our quotas rise to a remarkable 200 seconds each. Now, consider how little Kimi speaks and you may imagine three and a half minutes is enough for around 20 questions, but in reality it means more like five. At a push.
Additionally, each reporter tends to approach a sit-down interview with a specific angle they would like to explore. While I was intrigued by Kimi's admiration for the 1970s and James Hunt, my inquisitive colleagues were focusing more on his days at Sauber and his future in F1.
The result was a session where the subject matter changed repeatedly and thought-patterns were lost almost as quickly as they were generated. It is little wonder Kimi loathes being interviewed. The only time he cracked a genuine smile during the session was when he was getting up to leave.
Pulling his cap down and readying to traipse off into his team's hospitality cabin, one of my fellow interviewees threw one final question his way: "Is there a question you have never been asked that you would like to talk about?"
"No," said Kimi. "I like to be quiet..."
