Kimi, you cracked the race, now crack a smile
Dear Kimi Raikkonen
You are an excellent driver and I’ve long admired your talent at the wheel of a Formula One car, but there is something that has always bothered me about you ... your almost robotic reaction to life.
To be frank, I have encountered steering wheels with more personality than you. Last Sunday, after your win in the US Grand Prix in Austin, Texas, you actually cracked a smile. Or, at least, I think you did. It may have been a grimace in reaction to a bit of wind.
Come on, dude! It was your first F1 win in 2 044 days! The last time you stood on the top step of the podium was way back in 2013 in Australia, when Lewis Hamilton – on the verge of a fifth drivers’ championship – only had one title to his name. And the last time you REALLY smiled ... well, Hamilton was probably in nappies!
Also, you are in the twilight of your career. At your age – 39 years – the reactions and eyesight begin to deteriorate so this makes your win all the more meritorious. You “celebrated” your birthday just four days before the Austin race and the victory was something of a belated gift, but you treated it as if you had just successfully found your way to the supermarket to buy a pint of milk!
“Obviously, I’m happy,” you told
Guy Hawthorne
commentator Martin Brundle after the race. Obviously? Maybe next time you should tell your face so that your feelings are reflected in your demeanour. After the race on Sunday, you looked as if you had crashed out on the opening lap, on the far side of the circuit, and been made to leopard crawl back to the pits.
Also, you will be leaving Ferrari for Sauber next season. With that in mind, you would think last week’s win was extra special ... something of a farewell message to the prancing horse team. The last time you won in a Ferrari was in 2009 in Belgium in your first stint with the team, which again puts the Austin triumph into perspective. Yet you could barely raise a cheer. You did sort of lift your arms into the air in something of a victory salute, but it was a half-hearted gesture totally lacking in enthusiasm.
They call you the “Ice Man” and I can see why. Someone who is more clued up on F1 than me said it was because you are so cool, calm and collected at the wheel of a car. The only “c” that comes to mind for me is “comatose”. The ice in my deep freeze is more exciting, if only for the fact that it makes my brandy and ginger ale more palatable.
A mate of mine maintains that the sport will be “all the poorer” when you finally decide to call it a day. He insists he will miss you.
Me? I’ll probably never forget you. But that’s only because every time I look into the face of my miserable neighbour, who only gets out of bed so he can find something to complain about, I will think about you.
Crack a genuine smile, dude. I promise it won’t hurt. As someone once said – and it works for you because of the racing analogy – “a smile is a curve that sets everything straight”.