In the cinematic world, a gripping sequence from Richie Hogan’s autobiography would undoubtedly make the trailer cut. Consider the scene: it’s 2011, Kilkenny’s training weekend, a period of Hogan’s budding career right after he’s emerged into the scene. While an inherent blend of stimulating skills and invigorating self-belief defined him, a portion of him was still in the pursuit of acknowledgement. The avenue to facilitate this was an antagonistic procedure, devoid of intermediation.
The training sessions of Kilkenny possessed a bleak aspect, wherein the charged atmosphere, Jackie Tyrrell assumed the role of a stern adjudicator. Hogan and Tyrrell were opposing each other, as forward and back in the corner. The first ball was won and scored by Hogan, leading to Tyrrell retaliating with a harsh blow to his cheekbone. The act resulted in blood pouring out, as recalled by Hogan, dubbing the action as outrageously scandalous without any penalty or regret.
The onus of exacting retribution was on each participant. Hogan let Tyrrell claim the subsequent high ball, unchallenged, “And as he held it, I delivered a powerful blow across his chest,” Hogan narrates. The event escalated into a physical altercation, persisting even as the match continued. They were still engrossed in their private battle even when the game was ongoing around them.
Hogan was the one to dictate terms of the dispute’s resolution afterwards. While Tyrrell plunged into an ice bath, his chest bearing a mark, Hogan nonchalantly joined him. The entire team watched in silent anticipation, expecting an explosive reaction. However, the two men didn’t exchange a single word. Hogan’s resolve was clearly established when he chose to seat himself beside Tyrell in the changing room after having a shower and packing up.
Years later, Hogan reflects, “I held onto that location [in the changing room] for a long spell.” There was never a discussion about the incident, simply because it was unwarranted. More than anything, he had proven to all that he was not someone who’d be easily overpowered.
In that scenario, that was all that mattered. Inside the Kilkenny changing room, actions held far more sway than futile promises. Proving oneself through performances was of greater value than the mere act of making the team; the continuous accumulation of proof was key.
Hogan admits that he and Jackie have always maintained a close friendship. During his shift from minor to senior level, he was bombarded with enormous pressure and anticipation from others who expected him to instantly shine in the team. But gaining his foothold in what he calls ‘the greatest team ever’ was a challenging task. He points out that whether he succeeded or not wasn’t a concern for those in Kilkenny, as the team’s expertise persisted regardless.
Hogan never questioned his own skill or hurling prowess, yet doubts persisted about his resilience and willingness to fight for the team. Coincidentally, despite being known to stand his ground since childhood, he was faced with expectations to demonstrate that he could take a hit, an aspect he found quite strange. The burden of proof lay heavy on his shoulders; he was compelled to demonstrate that he could emerge victorious from a confrontation.
Hogan’s recently released autobiography provides an insight into the atmosphere of the Kilkenny dressing room, a space where no one could consider themselves superior. Hogan became a part of a squad that was rapidly solidifying their legacy in the sport. Although he does not directly state it, the visible improvement in the team’s performance over time testified to his contribution.
However, just blending in wasn’t Hogan’s style; he was not content merely being appreciated like an attractive bloom. Being part of the team that claimed eight All-Irelands in a decade, he thrived in the constant cycle of refinement and rejuvenation. Throughout this period, Brian Cody was a permanent mentor, and Hogan shared a similar mindset.
Known for his intense demands, Hogan concedes that he may not have found his own company enjoyable. However, he was not one to ignore issues; if something seemed amiss, he wouldn’t hesitate to voice his concerns. This need to address problems extended to his fellow players, himself, Briany (Cody), and anyone associated with the managerial team. In his opinion, his ability to function efficiently rested on addressing significant problems as and when they arose.
Having only ‘yes men’ in our locker room would have been counterproductive to our victories. Rather, it was the presence of those willing to question and challenge each other, generating constant tension in our high-performance environment.
The book chronicles a tense exchange between Hogan, Cody, and Kilkenny trainer Mick Dempsey in spring 2017. This happened a few months after their crushing defeat by Tipperary in the All-Ireland final. The meeting was called to discuss Hogan’s lacklustre performance, but he had been repeatedly reviewing the All-Ireland and was certain that a change was necessary in Kilkenny.
How could he express this without seeming disrespectful or antagonistic? In the heat of the conversation, this worry faded away. “Do you understand why we lost the game?” Cody questioned. He pointed out that the first puck-out that went soaring down the centre and was caught by Ronan Maher over Hogan, set the tone for Tipperary for the entire match.
Despite Hogan winning the next puck-out, the conversation soured into a disagreement. Hogan managed to get in the final word, he told Cody that although they were on the same side he would stop at nothing to win, implying that Cody was only interested in winning on his terms. A retort he did not appreciate.
Hogan recounts that he didn’t have another meeting with the management for a couple of years. Problems arose, and Kilkenny seemed to be lagging. The team, once at the forefront, was now playing catch-up.
“There was certainly a feeling that for a few years, it was our individual skills in hurling, our commitment, and our unbending desire to win that were securing our victories. We were always successful at fending off the rivals who attempted to introduce fresh strategies against us,” Hogan reflects. However, he acknowledges that the opposing teams were becoming increasingly innovative and hardworking, while Kilkenny remained static, relying on the same strategies to secure victories. This was a phase when they should have adopted more intelligent tactics, they were reacting too slowly, and unquestionably, there were some internal difficulties involved.
“We attempted to shift gears, yet it appeared as if we lacked confidence in our actions, which I feel was quite apparent. We should have explored various strategies to claim victory, but we remained stuck, ultimately getting cornered,” said Hogan. He was honoured as Hurler of the Year in 2014, during the final season of Shefflin’s participation in the Kilkenny team. Hogan fondly remembers him while adding that he shared several similarities with Shefflin. Moreover, he noticed quite a few unexpected differences between himself and TJ Reid who earned the Hurler of the Year title the following year.
There were assumptions that either Hogan or Reid would seamlessly take over from Shefflin, but that transition was anything but smooth. For a time, they alternated in the position of leadership.
Hogan identifies himself as a highly-driven person, striving for achievement in all aspects of life – not only on the field but at home, work, and education. He observed the same traits in Shefflin too. Hogan became a playmaker, always engaged with the ball and employing it effectively. He noticed that when Reid took over the free hits after Shefflin’s departure, it significantly uplifted his game performance without a doubt. However, Hogan candidly admits that Reid surpassed him as a forward, shooter and finisher.
With Kilkenny, only major matches counted, and Hogan prided himself on being a crucial player in such games. “My focus was always on delivering my best when it mattered most while overlooking those who excel only on insignificant occasions. The measure of an athlete is his victories, not merely his scores or exceptional skills. The ultimate aim is to win using any legitimate strategy. What we need are strong personalities,” Hogan emphasised.
Maintaining utmost performance and trust during crucial moments was always something I highly valued. That was the essence of my life, the adrenaline surge of delivering just when it was the hardest. This element gained increasing priority as I grew older.
By the time 2023 arrived, my back had been protesting for years, and a series of other injuries had also begun to plague me. Staying match-ready and staying unscathed were becoming increasingly incompatible.
Nowadays, every morning starts with a routine to keep my back functioning before I set foot outdoors. I had my stint with Danesfort this year, perhaps for the final time, with my hamstrings strumming like plucked guitar chords. Regardless of the issues, I knew I could control my physical condition. Finding a substitute for the game, however, presented a different challenge.
Three or four years before my retirement from Kilkenny, I had been actively preparing for my departure and filling in the ensuing vacuum. I took up a job with PwC, an experience filled with rewarding challenges and competitive colleagues. Concurrently, I pursued an MBA from Trinity College, demanding early mornings and late nights. Despite the intense schedule, I knew I was preparing myself for my post-retirement life.
So, with an educational portfolio boasting of a degree and a pair of Masters, I aspire to soar to the pinnacle of the business world, aiming for the best I can achieve in a new sphere. Had I not committed completely, transitioning would have been incredibly difficult.
The final whistle blew. The game persists.
Whatever It Takes, My Autobiography, an autobiographical piece by Richie Hogan and Fintan O’Toole, is accessible through Gill.