My Big Interviews

When I worked for CBC television in England, I was called upon to do interviews with some sports figures from time to time. I hated it.

The thought of asking questions that would be heard by over a million people terrified me. What if I asked something dumb? Whoever said there is no such thing as a dumb question never heard me in those days.

What made things worse is that the people I had to interview participated in sports I didn’t like or knew nothing about.

My first venture into sports journalism was a Canadian lad who participated in a sport where he went around this obstacle course on a bicycle. I still don’t know the name of the event. I had no clue what to ask him.

Next was Formula 2 racing. I hate auto racing. The way I figure it, they could take the same race and just edit it a different way each year for television. I really have no idea of where the cars are.

I went to a place called Silverstone in the United Kingdom thinking I might be caught by the bug. After hearing the loud buzzing of the cars all day, which continued into my sleep, I have no desire to go back. I realize that when I say that I got to meet the mechanical crew and the driver and got the whole experience there will be people thinking that I was in heaven. My fondest memory is the lunch that was served.

To top it off, the Canadian driver didn’t finish the race. When it came time to do the interview, he really didn’t want to talk to me. Ouch!

I learned the most of how to conduct an interview quite by accident. It was at the World Rowing Championships in Nottingham. I have rowed a rowboat, but that really doesn’t compare to the sleek sculls these athletes use.

My job was to provide close-ups of the Canadians to supplement the BBC coverage and to interview those who did well. The close-ups were done at the start of the race; the interviews at the other end of the course over 1000 metres away.

Everything was going as planned until a Canadian pair unexpectedly won a silver medal. My camera operator and I saw it suddenly on the scoreboard and we raced down the course in our car. I was quickly trying to think what I should ask the two men.

I gathered the two elated rowers, the camera started and I blurted, “That was some race. Tell me about it.” Like two thoroughbred horses coming out of the gate, they described everything – their thoughts, their actions – everything from start to finish. It turned out to be a great interview.

It was then I discovered that my job was to put the subject on the stage and let him shine. I didn’t have to get up there with him. My questions were meant to illuminate the person that’s all. I didn’t have to be part of the show. If people liked my role in the process that was fine, but it all hinged on the person I was interviewing.

There are times when I would like the opportunity I had then again. I certainly wouldn’t have the fear of looking dumb. I would just focus on the person and shine my lights on him.

And doesn’t it work with people the same in life? If we illuminate them and allow them to shine, don’t they appreciate us more than if we try to jump on the stage with them and steal the show?