An inflamed nose with a slight kink running east to west and the broad, dim yellow tinge that fills both cheeks sees to that.
Yet he wears the scars, bruises and swelling like merit badges for courage and explains them away with references to "ice fever".
It was "ice fever" that drove the already injured goaltender's nose into the boards and out of position during a recent pick-up game with fans.
Ironically, for someone now in the grips of such a sickness, Bryant was first drawn to the sport because it allowed him to get away from something else.
"A friend who played said his team didn't have a goalie. The guy said if you play you get to miss school, so I was in. They put me in goal because I couldn't skate."
Later that day he caught the fever, and 11 years later the symptoms persist.
But it has not all been scars and wagging - Bryant trialled for his hometown Dunedin Thunder when it was formed in 2008 but failed to make the cut.
Unable to stay away, the University of Otago statistics lecturer instead commentated on the games, wrote match reports for the Otago Daily Times, filled up drink bottles and helped management any way he could.
It sounds like he did everything but sell popcorn. Actually, he recalls he did sell food for a time.
The back-up to the back-up goalie still does not play as much as he would like, but knows there are easier gigs than sitting behind Toby Schuck and Rick Parry, who have both represented New Zealand.
Self-deprecatingly, he adds: "If I'm on the ice, something has gone wrong."
Things went badly enough for the Thunder last year for Bryant to start in goal for the South Island opposite Ice Blacks goaltender and provincial team-mate Parry in the second annual Skate of Origin fixture, won by the North 3-2.
He says it was great going from the backroom to the All-Star game, and reckons the quality of the national league is improving at a rapid rate.
"Someone who played a couple of years ago and came back would not recognise it. There's more intensity, the hits are better, the goals are prettier."
Still, some days the fever leads to distorted perceptions of the puck.
"It's either a beach ball or you can't see it."
When it looks the former, life is a beach for a goaltender.
