He disclosed his cancer diagnosis at a news conference mere days after he received it and mere hours after a doctor had tunneled into one of his hips to extract bone marrow. He was on painkillers to boot.

“I literally was groggy and having a hard time standing,” he recalled. “But I did it anyway and I answered every single question. It was like truth serum.”

I asked him why he didn’t wait a little longer.

“I just wanted to be honest and open,” he said. “I wanted people to hear from me rather than some rumor about why I was in the hospital.”

Even before the cancer, Hogan garnered admiration from unlikely quarters for a governing style that demonstrates a few overlooked truths: Among Republicans, there’s more ideological diversity and flexibility than the lunge-to-the-right presidential primaries showcase, and for many of America’s governors and mayors, practicality outweighs purity.

“One thing that’s certain is that he’s no ideologue,” wrote The Baltimore Sun in an editorial in late May that assessed Hogan’s first legislative session, during which he took regulatory actions regarding water pollution that surprised and impressed some (though by no means all) environmentalists.

Hogan also concentrated on his campaign pledge to reduce taxes, control government spending and create what he felt would be a business-friendly climate that spurred economic growth. On other fronts, he was less adamant.

So while he readily locked horns with Democrats over money for education — they sought more than he deemed fiscally prudent — he let measures promoting L.G.B.T. rights pass into law without his signature, respecting what most Marylanders seemed to want without stoking the ire of conservatives. Lucky for him, they aren’t as numerous or assertive in Maryland as in other states.