The Vancouver Sun
October 2, 1998
By Gary Mason

After the game he called home. It was 2 a.m. in Kingston, Ont., but it didn't take long for Sharon Allen to pick up the phone when it rang.

After all, her son, her little baby boy, her lovable 6'5" 210 pound tyke, had just played in his first NHL game. And if you think a mother, who wants to know he's still alive, or a father, who wants to know who his boy flattened, is going to get one wink of sleep until they hear from him, well, you're crazy.

I mean, it was just yesterday they were shaking this kid awake, getting him out of his pajamas at five o'clock in the morning, 20 below outside and pitch black, to cart him to some rink that was freezing too, so he could practice. And while they were flattered that coach after coach said he could make it to the NHL one day, they knew how long the odds were. And yet there he was, in Vancouver, playing in his first NHL game. So what if it was exhibition? It was the NHL.

Who's going to sleep?

"I told them what the score was and that I got in a fight," Bryan Allen recalled Thursday morning, leaning up against the wall of the Canuck dressing room.

"My dad was pretty excited about the fight."

Maybe it's a good thing Nigel Allen didn't see it.

It's the morning after the biggest night before and Bryan Allen is holding a piece of ice, stuffed in a paper cup, under his right eye, which was totally shut when he woke up in the morning and now is simply, well, a purple mess. An NHL tattoo laid on him by Calgary heavyweight Cale Hulse, but one the aspiring Canuck rookie seems to wear proudly.

Allen was the Canucks' first over-all pick in the summer draft, a kid few doubted would be an NHLer one day but not this season. He wasn't even 18 when he was drafted and fewer and fewer players his age are jumping straight to the NHL these days. Ask Boston's Joe Thornton how easy the leap is.

When Allen was in a car accident this summer, hurting his knee, another year of junior seemed certain. But the injury didn't turn out to be serious and soon Allen was making an impression.

Then he plays in his first NHL exhibition game Wednesday night, makes some rookie mistakes but has an otherwise strong game, gets in a fight, gets an assist on the tying goal, and teammates and coaches are comparing him to St. Louis Blues defenceman Chris Pronger.

And yet you look at Allen, with his tightly cropped blond hair, and the odd zit, boyish looks, and you're thinking: aren't you supposed to be in the back of a car somewhere, Econoline Crush blaring from the stereo, looking for a place to drink your six pack before hitting a bar or two?

But here he is, playing in one of the most brutal and punishing leagues in the world, where only men dare go, and on the surface at least he seems as cool and casual as a kid trying out for the senior boys basketball team. In many ways, Bryan Allen finds himself in a perfect position. He wasn't expected to make the Canucks this year so if he gets sent back to junior, no big deal. He's a star there for another year. And if he happens to make the big leagues - bonus. Signing bonus.

"That's exactly the way I'm looking at it," he says, melted ice dripping down his face.

His coach, Mike Keenan, loves what he sees. He says Allen is bigger than Pronger was at the same age. He's not worried that the kid has the physical dimensions to play in the league but rather he wonders if he has the energy.

"The question is whether his heart and lungs can keep up with his growth spurts," Keenan said.

Growth spurts? Did he say growth spurts? You got to be kidding?

Still, no matter how hard you try, no matter how well he plays, you can't stop thinking about that date on his birth certificate: Aug. 21, 1980. Can you believe that? There are kids in the NHL now born in 1980.

And what we tend to do is look at his age, and think of a child we know, maybe one of our own, and consider, somewhat in disbelief, that someone who could still be riding his bike to the corner store like other kids his age, might actually be playing in the NHL.

But the truth is, kids like Bryan Allen have very little in common with other kids his age. His entire teenage life has been devoted to hockey. He's played in the roughest junior league in the world. He's lived away from home since he was 16. He's lived on buses, been billeted with families he didn't know. As a boy, he was forced to become a man.

Things important to the average teenager aren't as important to one with his sights set on the NHL. Like, for instance, your 18th birthday. Now, for many of us our 18th birthday was a milestone, a rite of passage, an occasion celebrated with a gang of friends, in some bar, and we might be found the next morning curled up on a front porch.

"What did you do to celebrate your 18th birthday? I asked Allen, of the big day six weeks ago.

"Ahhh, my 18th birthday," he said, having to think about it for a second. "My parents came over for dinner."

That's it?

"Yep."

See what I mean? That's how I celebrated my 41st birthday.

He talks to his friends back home often. High school friends. Friends from junior hockey. He doesn't like to talk hockey all the time but sometimes friends can't resist.

"They ask what it's like to sit beside Messier," he said.

What do you tell them?

"I say it's pretty hard to grasp," he said.

It's hard for Bryan Allen not to think about making it - this year. About the cash that would be slipped into his hand. He's seen the cars some of the guys on the team drive. The Armani suits. He knows as great as junior hockey is, this is another world.

"I've probably had the fanciest dinners of my life the last two weeks," he says.

And he hasn't even played in Boston yet.

After his NHL debut Wednesday night, after the trainer tended to his eye, after Donald Brashear gave him some tips on fighting, after he'd showered, talked to his mom and dad, dragged his tired young body to his hotel room, and collapsed on his bed, Bryan Allen finally had a moment to himself.

"Wow, I just played in my first NHL game," he thought.

Then he fell asleep.



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