Dishing Hockey and Donuts with Award-Winning Author Roland Merullo

Award-winning author Roland Merullo loves hockey (and donuts) as much as I do. He wrote something to that effect to me and then signed his name in the copy of Lunch with Buddha I had purchased.

I haven’t read all of his books, such as the one with a donut on the cover, but I will buy them because I anticipate more hockey, more donut references. But it’s more than that. The magic of Merullo is his thought-provoking style of storytelling. He makes me question my own behavior and beliefs but not in a Thou-shalt, heavy-handed fashion. His fiction is unique yet real, affirming and enlightening, funny, spell-binding.

Characters in his books seem to have a thing for hockey and those halo-like treats that serve as one of this site’s hallmarks, so I asked Merullo about this connection. We traded email, and I now present these six questions and answers.  

Jim Dwyer: I know you shy away from donuts now—but what donut do you equate with paradise?

Roland Merullo: Honey dipped or chocolate honey dipped, but my tastes are eclectic.

JD: When you were twenty-four, you broke your back. So hockey, as you wrote in a 2012 Facebook posting, is "off the table." But you must have played as a kid in Revere or at Phillips Exeter. What are one or two of your fondest recollections of those days?

RM: I skated at the MDC rink in Revere, and play street hockey in front of my house, but I never was on the ice with a stick until 11th grade at Exeter. I made the club all-star team, and have many great memories from those days. I also played a little club hockey at B.U. and Brown, and in a men’s league on an outdoor rink the one year we lived on Martha’s Vineyard (my wife taught at the high school). That was AFTER the broken back. Many great memories but my last goal was a tip-in on a shot from the left point. I just laid out my stick and it went into the upper right-hand corner. A good shot to retire on.

JD: One more real-life question before we move on to your books: Who was and perhaps still is your favorite hockey player?

RM: Eddie Shack, hands down. I liked his nuttiness.

(JD’s note: Eddie once owned a few donut shacks, so to speak).

JD: In Breakfast with Buddha, Otto Ringling has a hockey scar. How would Otto describe the incident that gave him that mark on his neck?

RM: He was on the wrong end of a high stick.

JD: Otto's "breakfast" companion, Volya Rinpoche, loves miniature golf, but what does he think of hockey?

RM: Well, he’s from Siberia, so we have to assume he would enjoy it. He fell asleep at a baseball game, however. I saw one game in Russia, actually the USSR, in 1977, when they still called themselves amateurs. No fighting, a little checking, but the best passing I have ever seen.

JD: If Rinpoche were to meet Jesus in an American Savior sequel, where would they meet for donuts?

RM: The donut shop where Jake meets Janet in Allston in my novel, A Little Love Story. It’s made up, based loosely on a shop in Hadley, MA, on Route 9, with a very talkative Greek owner.

Check out a Merullo novel or non-fiction book from your local library. Buy one from a real or virtual shelf and then have him sign it at one if his events. 

Holy Cross Hockey Kudos

At Logan International Airport on New Year’s Day, Holy Cross freshman Jay Silvia is in line to check his bags. The Crusaders, after what Silvia calls a “slow start,” are headed to Colorado to play in the Wells Fargo Denver Cup. Silvia hopes for a first round win against the University of Denver and then a rematch with Boston University, if the Terriers defeat Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, for the championship.

Against BU on November 25, the Crusaders lost 3–2. But, Silvia says, “We played them real tough.”

The two teams board the same flight and then fly, without incident, to Denver. The next night, the Crusaders tie the highly–touted Pioneers but then lose in a shootout. Silvia and his teammates rebound to beat RPI, which lost to BU, to win third place in the tournament.

When Holy Cross returns, Assistant Director of Athletic Media Relations Jim Wrobel says, via e-mail, of his team, “…They played very well tying the No. 5 team in the nation on their home ice and then defeating a(n) ECAC team.”

A day later, Silvia, who earned two assists in Denver, is named Atlantic Hockey Rookie of the Week.

The Crusaders play a home-and-home set—the first in Worcester, the second in Springfield—this weekend against Atlantic Hockey foe, the American International Yellow Jackets.

On the Shelf, Part VI: Quotable Quotes and Open Ice

“He who learns must suffer.”
-Aeschylus

The nexus of my adductor longus and iliopsoas was on the mend. Nearly three months after tearing those muscles, I resumed skating, at least in pre-game warm-ups; I could feel the improvement from week to week as I anticipated an early-December return to the Capitals’ roster. But now, the injury may be getting worse. Maybe it was last week’s violent sneezes (coupled with my predisposition for delayed reaction) that has caused an intermittent searing sensation in the damaged area. Whatever the cause, I’ll be on the shelf for who knows how long. My hopes for a return this season have vanished, but I’m confident this unexpected and prolonged absence will enlighten me as much as I’m hopeful the following review will prod you to purchase the book.

Open Ice
by Jack Falla

Falla was a master at connecting the dots, those seemingly so-far-away quotes—from Aeschylus to Emerson—to poignant points in his own life. From “A Death in Montreal”, where Falla found solace in Emerson’s thoughts about other men, lenses, and reading our minds, to “Goodbye to the Backyard Rink?”, where the self-proclaimed “hockey lifer” juxtaposed Jewett’s comments about chapter endings, Open Ice has become a posthumous farewell to all those who love hockey as much as the author did and—I believe—still does.

“I kept thinking about religion, death and the possibility of an afterlife…,” Falla wrote, in “Requiem for the Cucumber”, about his road trip from Chicoutimi (where cool as a you-know-what George Vezina is buried) to Quebec City (where Falla felt connected to his forebears).

Falla, of French Canadian heritage and a former amateur netminder, chronicled his evolving connection to the namesake for the trophy awarded to the NHL’s finest goalie; describes the rise and fall—and rebirth—of a “particular subspecies of the genus hockey player” in “The Rink Rat”; and finds strength by learning to let go of his home ice in “Goodbye to the Backyard Rink?”

As I recount my reading of Falla’s gracious revelations, I think of the quote that he employed—this one to enrich his respect for hockey’s greatest amateur player in “Searching for Hobey Baker”—as it relates to Falla himself.

“His nature is too noble for this world.”-Coriolanus, by William Shakespeare

On the Shelf, Part II: Jack Falla

While I’m still on the shelf (see Part I), I present to you a tribute to Jack Falla, who wrote the two books I’ll review below. Jack, who died on Sunday September 14, was more than just a great writer.

Home Ice: Reflections on Backyard Rinks and Frozen Ponds

I was geared up to read about the experiences the Fallas and their friends shared on the Bacon Street Omni. And Falla delivers the goods with humor and honesty, with wit and wisdom. But Home Ice, for me, has become more than a celebration of hockey and that which unites families and communities.

I, a relative newcomer to New England, didn’t expect to learn so much about the Boston Bruins. I had heard of Orr and O’Reilly, of course, but I didn’t grow up watching them as Falla did. He brings his memories of the Big Bad Bruins to life. Falla also mixes Black and Gold with the Oil. His skate with Wayne Gretzky enriches the book, giving it balance: the Great One juxtaposed to the average Joes who play on the pond.

Because I enjoyed the book so much and had started writing my own hockey book, I was compelled me to seek Falla’s literary counsel. Finding Falla was easy. A staff member at the Framingham Barnes & Noble told me that the author dropped in every once in a while to sign his books and that he would tell Falla about me.

In 2004, Jack took time out from his schedule, which included teaching sports journalism at Boston University, to discuss my own hockey memoir. Jack taught me about tighter writing, how to trim the fatty words. Later, he convinced me that I had a unique story and that readers deserved me as the central character.

As I wrote more and more and have developed this site, Jack has continued to encourage me. On December 29, 2007, he wrote this in an e-mail:

“Hi, James...looks as though you’ve created a nice hockey writing niche for yourself. Good for you. All best with it in 2008 and beyond.”

Then he told me about his book that would be released ten days later.

“I wrote my first novel, actually my first fiction of any kind not counting Sports Illustrated expense reports… It’s a humorous love story that plays out over a modern NHL season.”

Saved

A fictional account about a goalie of French Canadian ancestry and who plays in the NHL, Saved borders on non-fiction. It’s no serendipitous coincidence that Jean Pierre Savard plays goalie for Jack’s favorite team, the Bruins. It’s no surprise then, that Jack was also a netminder, and that like his protagonist, Falla’s family tree is partly rooted in French-speaking territory.

Falla’s description of the on-ice action and insights into how players deal with the media, and what happens in a player’s private life—as well as what he’s thinking—all read true. The novel also contains characters, names that Bruins and/or AMHL fans will recognize: Cam, Rancourt…even a cameo by a Dwyer. Other characters’ names sound more cartoon-like—“Flipside, “the Mad Hatter,” and “Rinky”—but add color to Falla’s commentary. And like any good book, conflict, sadness, doubt, compassion, faith, and redemption make this a keeper.

In that e-mail to me, Jack also mentioned the book he was writing, which would be released in September 2008.

I haven’t read Open Ice yet because I’m too sad.

You see, Jack closed the e-mail by saying, “My rink opened last week, this for its 25th consecutive season. Won’t be 25 more I’ll tell you that. May not be any more. But we did a quarter century. I’ll take it.

“A belated Joyeux Noel and an early bonne annee.”

I only met him face-to-face that one time. I'll take it, but I miss him.

Adieu mon ami. Repose en paix.