As an athlete, being second choice is never easy. But when the man ahead of you is often regarded as the greatest of all time, the challenge becomes both humbling and motivating.
Now retired, thirty-five-year-old Barry Hennessy had spent nearly a decade as part of Limerick’s golden generation, a key member of one of the greatest hurling squads in history. Yet, despite his incredible medal haul and contributions to a record-breaking team, he has often flown under the radar.
With a stellar club career for Kilmallock, where he has been the netminder since 2008, and a Limerick panellist since 2014, Hennessy’s resumé is nothing short of impressive.
Four Munster titles, four All-Ireland’s, two National League crowns and four Limerick championships make for an enviable list of achievements. Yet Hennessy made just two championship appearances during the course of in his intercounty career, his path shaped by both the challenges and the brilliance of teammate Nickie Quaid.
Struggle
But his story is about far more than the games he played. It’s a story of incredible resilience, growth, and finding purpose beyond the pitch.
For much of his 20s, Hennessy battled a struggle that few knew about—a debilitating eating disorder that consumed years of his life.
“It started after my parents separated when I was in school, and I just never dealt with it. At the same time, my progression with Limerick wasn’t going the way I wanted either, and I got a bit lost between my sporting life and my private life.”
If I hadn’t made a change, I would’ve been left with no one in my life”
The disorder, later identified as bulimia, was both isolating and exhausting. Barry was consumed by self-doubt and feelings of secrecy and paranoia, which began to seep into his relationships and daily life. Some of his darkest moments were when he found himself in the solitude of his bathroom floor, purging his stomach to keep his weight down.
“I’d be down in the bathroom, looking up and asking, ‘Why is this happening to me? Why am I being punished?’ That probably caused a lot of resentment, and it pushed me away from everything—including my faith.”
“At that time, I wasn’t a pleasant person to be around,” he admits. “I treated people terribly, and I didn’t give back to those who gave me so much. If I hadn’t made a change, I would’ve been left with no one in my life.”
Isolation
Barry admits that his inability to open up made him feel even more isolated. It was only when it became unbearably overwhelming that he decided that something needed to change, and so he took the first step in doing so and started a conversation. Central to his healing journey was the guidance of parish priest Fr Chris O’Donnell.
“It was only when I spoke openly about it and spoke to the likes of Fr Chris that I realised that there was always someone there for me if I just hadn’t turned a blind eye,” he said.
It’s about finding the courage to seek help”
“You just need to speak to someone, start a conversation with anyone – whether it’s a friend, family member, or a professional. I know mental health is still a bit taboo in Ireland, and people might be embarrassed about what others think, but the people who care about you will always want to help.”
Restarting his journey with his faith didn’t erase his struggle, but it helped him to find the strength to face it. Looking back, he is reminded that resilience isn’t about enduring hardships alone—it’s about finding the courage to seek help and trust in the people and the faith that stand beside you.
“If you can get through something as bad as this, it’s something that I feel you can draw enormous strength from. To think of the power and confidence in the resilience that you’ve shown to get through it, it’s massive,” he said.
“Since then, I’ve become a lot more aware of things. You know that if you’re praying for strength, a challenge is going to be put in your path to learn the lesson that you’re looking for. If it does happen again, you’re just praying for that guidance to navigate it; it’s all God’s timing and God’s plan.”
Faith
As Barry’s faith grew stronger, so did his understanding of his role within the Limerick squad. Spending much of his career as a backup goalkeeper might have frustrated him in earlier years, but it became an opportunity to give back to the team.
“When I first joined, I wasn’t a great panel member,” Barry admits. “I was fiercely competitive, and I’d nearly be hoping Nickie might make a mistake so that I could get my chance, but I soon realised that that mindset didn’t serve anyone.”
“I’m humble enough to know that he’s a generational talent, and I know that I gave everything that I could, and he still absorbed it. I then changed my mindset to how I can help contribute to the group and to help Nickie be more prepared.”
I know that I’m a lot different from who I was in my early twenties”
Now retired from intercounty hurling, Barry’s journey has taken a new direction. He is pursuing a master’s in business at SETU Waterford while also stepping into a coaching role in Kerry – all while balancing life as a father to three young children.
“I know that I’m a lot different from who I was in my early twenties. Back then I would have always been known as and defined as Barry the Hurler. Now I want to be known as Barry the Dad to Hope, Pippa, and AJ, or just Barry the person.
“I don’t want to force it on them, but I’d like to bring my kids up in the Church and to have that relationship with God because there is huge power in having faith – as long as you go looking for it.”