The story behind an epic Rally Sweden

He's OK. He told me he's OK. He told himself he's OK.

He's OK.

But there's a redness in his eyes that belies his OK-ness. Andreas Mikkelsen is still hurting. As well he might.

He'd come close; closer than ever to winning a round of the World Rally Championship. But the chance had gone. He'd had the prize right there in his hands.

And dropped it.

Mikkelsen struggled to hide his emotions at the finish © McKlein

Talking to him a couple of hours after he'd finally come off the throttle, reluctantly accepting that his Volkswagen Polo R WRC wasn't going to dig itself out of the final-stage snowbank, the pain was still clear.

Typically professional and friendly as ever, he answered questions, but the spark had gone. Clearly the 50-mile, hour-long road section down from Hagfors to the podium in Karlstad had been an emotional one.

"I needed that road section," he says. "I feel a bit better now."

He hadn't sounded too bad at the end of the stage. The adrenaline that had carried him within sight of the pinnacle of his career to date was still surging. The realisation that he'd reached the summit only to find a flag marked 'Sebastien' flying high was just moments away.

But what a difference twelve months have made. This time last year, Mikkelsen was in the fight for the lead with his other Volkswagen team-mate Jari-Matti Latvala. But you never got the feeling he was truly, truly engaged. It was almost as though Mikkelsen himself was still coming to terms with where he was.

Mikkelsen challenged for victory in Sweden last year too © McKlein

Not this time. He hit the front on Friday night and stayed at the sharp end for the rest of the rally.

The accepted wisdom was that Mikkelsen would be swept aside in another Ogier charge through Saturday morning. Yes, the champ was first on the road, but going down the roads for the first time with some good ice on the surface... Mikkelsen had better stand aside.

It didn't happen. Andreas dug deep, deeper than ever, and found more speed. He kept Ogier honest and absolutely on the limit.

The atmosphere in the German team's corner of the service park just before the final stage was special. And strained.

The sight and sound of Ogier locking horns with Latvala is well known around these parts, but it felt somehow different with Mikkelsen. He's the team junior, the younger sibling; you could feel the team collectively wanting to put an arm around him and tell him it was all going to work out fine.

He and Ogier kept themselves far apart during that service. Mikkelsen surrounded himself with family, friends and his management team, while the Frenchman crunched the numbers with the engineers on the opposite side.

Time to go. As Mikkelsen embraced Erik Veiby, the man who put his career back on track all those years ago, the hug lasted a moment longer than usual. This was their time.

VW boss Jost Capito tries to put a smile back on Mikkelsen's face © McKlein

It's not often that you see a driver actually going through the gears, elevating himself to that special place where unthinkable corner speeds and shocking risk becomes the norm. When Mikkelsen left the building, he was there; the facial expression had changed, the mood darker, deeper.

Three seconds ahead. Nine miles to go.

He could do it. He would do it.

Sebastien Ogier could do it. And did do it.

Mikkelsen met a man on a mission on Varmullsasen last Sunday lunchtime. Ogier was driven and more determined than ever to do this. Riled by the rule change that left him left him first on the road on Friday and Saturday, numero uno wanted to lay down a marker for the world to watch.

Ogier was a dangerous man on stage 21. And his experience told. Beautifully.

Three miles in, the pair were dead level. Dead level. Awesome.

Another three down and Ogier was six tenths ahead, but Mikkelsen could account for those. Not that he knew it, he was still on for a 2.4-second win.

A determined Ogier made a fearsome opponent © McKlein

Then the Polo's right-rear caught the bank. Immediately, tenths started slipping as the Volkswagen's pretty paintwork rubbed against the ice. Maybe, maybe... he could still save it...

No. Gone. Front in. Finished.

One minute 59.4 seconds earlier, Ogier had speared the apex, planted his Polo and made it stick.

Like Mikkelsen, Ogier had been forced to dig deeper than usual. One of them had to come out smiling and, in reality, it was no surprise that it was the world champion.

Ogier had hunted down and killed his prey with the ice-cool calm of any one of nature's prime predators.

He'd done his job. But he'd done it under the most difficult of circumstances; and what sweetened the victory further was that he did it against the odds. Much as he would have wanted to stand on the desk of the FIA's post-event press conference and offer a firm, two-fingered salute, he didn't.

He didn't need to. He'd already done it with dignity, diligence and nerves of steel in the final stage.

Ogier and Ingrassia are unbeaten in 2015 so far © McKlein

We all know about Ogier and how quick he is; winning has become humdrum, the norm for him. But not like this. This was a rare insight into just how driven and determined this man is.

As well as that, it offered another view of Ogier: all too often, the Gap man is cast as an emotionless, self-serving superstar, all too aloof to be truly loved by the sport. The way he dealt with his team-mate's feelings spoke volumes about Ogier.

He'd done it. He'd risked all and he'd scored what he considered to be one of the finest wins of his career. But at the same time, somebody close to him was distraught, cycling the polar opposite emotion.

Ogier found the words, the right words for Mikkelsen.

The way Ogier dealt with his triumph and his team-mate's disaster was, for me, as much a highlight as anything else during the week in Sweden.

To lighten the moment, Mikkelsen's co-driver Ola Floene - a man whom we should spare a thought for, having experienced the exact same raw emotion as his driver - let Ogier know their moment was coming.

"Seb," he said, in the press conference, "one day, when I am older, I'm going to beat you..."

Ogier turned and smiled at his team-mate. Before turning back with a look of some relief.

Neuville nearly upstaged the VWs © McKlein

"It's becoming better," said Ogier, "an hour ago he wanted to kill me!"

Looking at this story as an all-Volkswagen affair is, of course, to do a great, great injustice to Thierry Neuville and Nicolas Gilsoul.

Arguably, the Hyundai pair performed better than anybody in Sweden last week. They made fewer mistakes (none in fact) and pushed the i20 WRC into a position where, sensibly, it had no place being.

The Belgian could - and for many probably should - have won on Sunday. Had he done so, the story would have been all the more astonishing and potentially a more fitting first victory for him than Germany last year, which came with an element of gift-wrapping.

Both Mikkelsen and Neuville landed a punch last week. It'll be some time yet before they knock the champ out, but there will undoubtedly be some points decisions coming their way in the next few months.

And, when Ogier gets understandably frustrated about his lot as he runs first on the road in Mexico, think back and remember what we saw on Sunday. Winning is everything to this man, but remember the arm around the shoulder.

And Mikkelsen? Don't worry.

He's OK.