One rose without a trace. The other grew up demanding an audience. In the
classrooms at school or on the pitch, Brian Hogan always seemed quiet, even
withdrawn. When Hogan looked around the training field in St Kieran’s he saw
Jackie Tyrrell and Tommy Walsh writing themselves into a storied history.
But where Walsh and Tyrrell commanded pages, Hogan was a punctuation mark.
Questions followed him around. He didn’t appear to have the wrists or the
smarts to make it. People questioned his confidence. But as the year went
on, Hogan willed himself to make it. His belief grew. His hurling was
steady, unrelenting. When St Kieran’s won an All-Ireland in 2000, Hogan was
wing-back. Walsh was in the corner behind him, Tyrrell on the other wing. He
could look them all in the eye.
“He wouldn’t have automatically been in our plans at the start of the year,”
says Adrian Finan, coach at St Kieran’s, “but by the end of it there were no
questions.” Three years later, John Tennyson swept through the same halls
and classrooms like a forest fire, leaving plumes of smoke behind him. When
St Kieran’s reached another All-Ireland colleges final against St Colman’s,
Tennyson was full-back. Andrew O’Shaughnessy was already playing senior
hurling for Limerick, wrecking every defence he met. One day in the Harty
Cup he had scored five goals in one half for St Colman’s. The next day he
hit four. From the moment Kieran’s made the final, Tennyson had him in his
crosswires. Now it was all down to bravery, luck and the speed of his
trigger finger.
The first ball came dropping towards them. Tennyson leapt above O’Shaughnessy
and grabbed the ball cleanly. When he came back to earth, he barged
O’Shaughnessy aside and cleared. Half the crowd cheered. The other half
gasped. In the end, O’Shaughnessy struggled to muster 0-2. Kieran’s won by
11 points. Bullseye.
In the next three years, Tennyson was fast-tracked through Kilkenny’s usual
testing grounds, dominating wherever he went. Hogan’s development continued,
not like Tennyson’s comet streaking across the sky but the slow, painstaking
creation of a star. Hogan was blown out at wing-back in his first
championship game against Wexford in 2004 and waited three years for another
chance. Tennyson settled in easily at centre-back in 2006 before injury
stopped him dead. Since then they have shared a Kilkenny dressing room and
fuelled the kind of selfless competition Brian Cody has built a
near-immortal team on. Eventually, Hogan drew level. When Tennyson damaged a
cruciate ligament last autumn, Hogan hit the front and has held his lead
since.
In the course of his time with Kilkenny, Cody has created a template for his
centre-backs. Sometimes, like Tennyson, they have clawed down ball from the
sky before furiously throwing opponents aside. More often, Cody has looked
within them to divine the traits he values most: patience, strength,
intelligence, persistence. “These guys were not natural hurlers, or natural
centre-backs,” says Johnny Walsh, selector with Cody from 1999 to 2005. “But
they were all really determined fellas who wanted to be there.”
Cody has used five centre-backs in the championship: Eamonn Kennedy, Pat
O’Neill, Peter Barry, Tennyson and Hogan. Where Cork have had Ronan Curran
and Waterford Ken McGrath, Kilkenny’s selfless gameplan demands different
characters and personalities. O’Neill had the natural talent to prosper as a
hurler anywhere. The others traded on their persistence and strength of
character. In Tennyson, Cody has a warrior. In Hogan, Cody sees the selfless
nature he adored in Peter Barry and wishes for his team. “He was
underestimated when he played with us,” says Offaly’s Brendan Murphy, who
played alongside Hogan with UCD. “But he always got his job done. His man
was almost always scoreless. As a forward you appreciate the ball he
delivered. He never hit a ball in anger, always with purpose. He just needed
that spell at centre-back to get going.”
The margins between Hogan and Tennyson are paper thin. Hogan is better driving
towards the ball than playing off the back foot, which suits Kilkenny’s
deep-lying defence. His deliveries are marginally more measured than
Tennyson’s. He has the height and strength to dominate under the high ball
as Barry did — and Tennyson could. Above everything, both have the same
streak of devotion to the gameplan.
“One thing all three have is they’re hugely honest people,” says Finan.
“They’re intelligent and have that huge strength of character. Peter and
John would be of similar character. The two of them are hugely respected.
There’s not a hope in hell they’d let you down.
“They are three different types of hurler. Brian was a late developer like
Peter. But all three worked hugely on their game. Peter was on colleges
teams but I’d say he’d accept he was there for workrate, not ability. That
strength of character probably comes from that persistence.”
The year after Hogan left St Kieran’s, Finan took the school team to UCD for a
challenge match against the college freshers. Hogan stood at centre-back for
UCD. “He was the best player on the field,” he says. “His belief was
blossoming by that stage. I spent most of the match giving out to our keeper
for dropping every puck out down on top of him.” While Hogan strengthened
his character through a slow, grinding progress of improvement, Tennyson’s
fire was dampened by injury.
In 2006 he shattered his shoulder against Clare in the All-Ireland semi-final.
A year before, he had shipped a similar injury in the last five minutes of
an All-Ireland intermediate final with Carrickshock. The management tried to
take him off. Tennyson insisted on seeing out the game. This time, Tennyson
defied logic and reason, willed himself back to training in 10 days and made
the final. As Kilkenny choked the life from Cork, Tennyson was among those
who applied the greatest pressure, sitting deep, protecting his full-back
line.
“When he came back his confidence was low,” says Richie Power, who coached
Tennyson at Carrickshock and Hogan with the Kilkenny under-21s. “But he made
massive progress in a short period. I thought he’d be ruled out totally this
year \, but he’s proved everybody wrong.” This is the same solidity and
courage Cody has always admired and sought to reward. As a player Cody
passed a happy spell at full-back behind Ger Henderson, a jagged stopper who
bristled with aggression and cast a shadow broad enough to shelter the
entire defence. When he looked for centre-backs, Cody wanted the same
security for his team.
“Nobody was more determined or as brave and committed,” says Walsh. “You could
say the same of Barry. You have to be brave at centre-back and Ger Henderson
didn’t see fear. If you see fear, it diminishes your game. All those centre-backs
have that in common. Brian Cody likes big guys. When he grew up watching
Kilkenny, they were often bullied by Tipp. Even in the 70s Kilkenny had
lovely hurlers, but they were bullied. Brian Cody didn’t want that. He
wanted big, strong fellas.”
After taking over in 1999, Cody searched for another Henderson. He handed the
jersey to Eamonn Kennedy, only switching back to Pat O’Neill towards the end
of the 1999 championship. Defeat by Galway in the 2001 All-Ireland
semi-final has endured as a landmark. Cody dispensed with old loyalties and
turned training sessions into a bearpit of competition. Kennedy was among
his first victims. “Eamonn’s career was short,” says Walsh, “but he was
grateful for the chance. Peter Barry was more mobile, plus he was a good,
strong fella and a respected guy.”
Cody was starting to trust his instincts. Peter Barry wasn’t a beautiful
hurler but he had substance. He could win his own ball in the air. He didn’t
do raking clearances but he was intelligent and astute in his distribution.
He didn’t have searing pace but he covered the angles and transmitted a
sense of calm throughout the defence. He held the hurley like Henderson,
right hand on top.
He was also a battler, moulded in Cody’s image, uninterested in the trappings
of inter-county hurling or the posturing. He kept his head down, hurled
simply and composed the mood music for the entire scene.
“It was that will to win and great hunger they had to play for Kilkenny,” says
Walsh. “Their minds were so right. Inter-county players generally have the
hurling. Getting their heads right is the big thing. If Brian or any of us
heard players complaining, we knew. Hurling or Kilkenny wasn’t important
enough to them.”
When Barry showed signs of waning at the end of 2005, the following few months
marked the nearest the Kilkenny defence has known to turbulence. DJ Carey
filled a gap early in the League. John Dalton auditioned against Tipperary
but an injury in a club game put him out.
When Tennyson stepped forward from full-back, he didn’t miss a beat.
The battle has raged quietly since. In 2007 a bout of flu kept Tennyson out of
the League final and saw PJ Delaney start at centre-back. He got so badly
burnt he spent the rest of the year on the bench. Hogan slotted in while the
county whispered about Tennyson’s absence. Sometimes last summer, if
Kilkenny had enough leeway, Cody might introduce Tennyson for Hogan. It kept
Hogan sharp and Tennyson hoping. When Noel Hickey limped off in last year’s
All-Ireland final, Hogan switched to full-back and Tennyson dominated the
centre. This year Tennyson has battled with injury while Hogan has held his
position.
In time no-one can imagine a Kilkenny team without Tennyson. Just as Peter
Barry did, Hogan has broadened his shoulders beyond expectation to carry a
great burden. Like Kennedy, O’Neill and Barry before, Cody can trust them
both to carry the weight. The soundest rocks on which he built an empire.
