A hushed Brendan O’Connor amplifies Nikita Hand’s traumatic testimony

A hushed Brendan O’Connor amplifies Nikita Hand’s traumatic testimony

If the key to success at poker is knowing when to hold and when to fold, so a crucial part of being a winning talkshow host is an awareness of when to hush and when to push. As with an aptitude for card games, gauging the appropriate time for silent encouragement or vocal intervention during a conversation isn’t an exact science, but getting it right can yield rich rewards, as Brendan O’Connor (RTÉ Radio 1, weekends) ably demonstrates.Over a course of compelling interviews on Saturday, O’Connor shows his ability to read his guests’ moods and adjust his tone accordingly. Certainly, when speaking to Nikita Hand about her life since being sexually assaulted by the mixed-martial-arts fighter Conor McGregor, the presenter makes it clear he’s quietly following her lead: “I’ll be guided by you.” It’s a wise move given Hand’s raw yet honest recounting of her experience, which led to McGregor being found civilly liable for rape.READ MOREHand recalls how, having expected to go to a party with McGregor, she was driven to a Dublin hotel where she was sexually assaulted, with shocking violence. “He choked me three times,” she recalls. Despite her trauma – “After that night I lost a big part of my life” – and the subsequent decision not to bring criminal charges against McGregor, Hand was determined he wouldn’t get away with it, leading to her civil action. But although she felt vindicated by the jury’s verdict, “it didn’t settle my nerves”. Hand is unflinching throughout, whether admitting she consumed cocaine before the attack – “We all make bad decisions,” she says – or describing the hateful messages she still receives on social media.O’Connor is as good as his word, allowing Hand to set the pace of the conversation while making his sympathies clear: “It does sound like you went through hell.” [ ‘I still get panic attacks’: Nikita Hand on impact of Conor McGregor trialOpens in new window ]As well as being essential listening, it’s a scoop; O’Connor’s weekend slot allows him to land Hand’s first radio interview, four days before she speaks to Claire Byrne on Newstalk.Having been considerate with Hand, the host is more impishly assertive when talking to Aisling Rogerson about the legacy of her late husband, Manchán Magan. As Rogerson speaks of the “profound” moment when Magan died, O’Connor irreverently presses for more information: “You don’t have to be too rational about it. If it’s poetry or metaphor or airy-fairy, that’s okay.” [ ‘It was utterly sacred’: Manchán Magan’s widow on his final days, death and legacyOpens in new window ]Such comments could be jarring, but O’Connor is on safe ground, having memorably interviewed the writer and broadcaster weeks before his death last year. When Rogerson talks about missing Magan’s sense of humour, the host agrees: “People can get quite pious about it now, but he was a good laugh.”Such bantering helps put his guest at ease but adds impact too. Responding to the host’s request for “airy-fairy” detail on her husband’s passing, Rogerson talks movingly about “the moment when the soul leaves the body, and you see the body as this vessel”. O’Connor is uncharacteristically lost for words: “Okay, wow.”Despite the differing approaches, both encounters are marked by the lightly worn but palpable empathy that has become one of O’Connor’s more surprising traits as a radio presenter. But he hasn’t given up the instincts honed as a would-be disruptive newspaper columnist. During his lively chat with Donald Trump’s former White House communications director Anthony Scaramucci, O’Connor is vocally alarmed when his guest predicts it will be at least six years before a viable anti-Trump presidential candidate emerges. “Ah, man, we can’t wait that long,” O’Connor blurts. Even the deftest hosts can’t always hold back.[ Podcast: Where Anthony Scaramucci and America went wrongOpens in new window ]There’s not much restraint in evidence on Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) as Kieran Cuddihy discusses rising fuel costs. He surely can’t be blindsided by the fractious tenor that follows, however, given that his first callers are James Geoghegan and John Dallon, the leaders of the fuel blockades that paralysed the country in April, whose very presence adds to rumblings of further protests.But initially, anyway, both men sound more like concerned citizens than firebrand demonstrators. They outline the detrimental effect of increased prices for fuel on the agricultural sector and beyond, while berating the Government for high taxes and supposed inaction. Dallon complains that Taoiseach Micheál Martin is “removed from reality” while insisting he means no disrespect. “That’s like saying ‘I’m not racist but’,” Cuddihy scoffs. “That’s utterly disrespectful.”But, indeed. While Geoghegan and Dallon are justifiably exercised about issues such as ordinary citizens paying more than data centres for electricity, their grievances also take on a more ominous hue. Geoghegan complains that asylum seekers live in heated accommodation centres at a time when some people can’t afford to warm their homes. “It feels like Irish people are being discriminated against in Ireland,” he fulminates. Cuddihy pushes back, deriding the notion that Irish people would queue up for the “miserable existence” of such accommodation. But it’s a telling indication of the darker undercurrents metastasising widespread discontent and alienation in Irish society, as well as underlining how prevalent such once-contentious opinions have become in mainstream public discourse.Not that any one caller has a monopoly on dubious assertions. Michael belligerently demands an apology from the protest leaders for “hijacking the highways” before grouching that half of homeless people are foreigners – “They should go back home” – while claiming that the rest are mainly single mothers. Cuddihy is suitably gobsmacked: “I can’t debate with someone who pulls facts out of thin air.”Amid the fury, there are poignant moments. Susan, a pensioner, describes how high fuel prices mean she won’t turn on the heating and limits her car travel while complaining about a lack of political concern for the elderly. Though not above salty views of her own – “You never see a poor farmer” – Susan’s contribution brings home the reality of the soaring cost of living in stark terms.But it’s not all bad news, at least as far as Cuddihy is concerned. As she finishes, Susan compliments the host, after a fashion. “I love listening to you,” she says. “I didn’t think I would after Joe Duffy.” Far from being offended, he sounds happy: “You’re not the only one.” With Cuddihy’s tenure at Liveline still a work in progress, he isn’t about to turn down a winning hand.[ ‘Desperate times make desperate people’: Hauliers say they cannot sustain fuel price hikesOpens in new window ]Moment of the weekAlways a dependably cheerful presence in the morning, Shay Byrne sounds even chirpier than usual on Monday’s Rising Time (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), when the actor and broadcaster Simon Delaney stops by the studio on his way to fill in for Marty Whelan on Lyric FM. With Byrne having played Bon Jovi’s 1980s rock anthem Wanted Dead or Alive, Delaney relays an anecdote from his stint in the London production of the play Stones in his Pockets. “We used to play that [song] in the dressingroom every night when we came offstage,” Delaney says, chuckling. “The trick was to be changed and in the bar by the time the guitar solo kicked in.” Byrne sounds surprised at this revelation: “In the bar?” Without hesitation, Delaney replies: “Well, there were Bible readings in there.” Ah, the glamour of show business.

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