Norwich City – Half A Century In Hair

1970s 

Join us first to celebrate this legendary decade – the most innovative and creative in East Anglian sports hairstyling. This golden age saw visionaries such as John McDowell or Graham Paddon experimenting with techniques society previously deemed acceptable only for “the fairer sex.” 

From lively bouffant to springy, resilient bubble perm, Norwich’s finest sons boldly showcased the full gamut of shape and texture with zero fear of scrutiny or judgement. It takes a real man to sit in hot curlers for a whole morning when he should be having his mandatory pre-training regimen of ‘full English and a Capstan’. 

Special mention to Jimmy Neighbour for the laser-accurate pruned topiary of a man who should play bass for literally any Midlands-based prog-metal supergroup. That’s art. 

1970s Hair Hero: Tony Powell. An imperious, silky mane that would make a Gibb brother keel over with envy. Laughing in the face of today’s stretch-comb hairband solutions, this self-supported structure would strike fear into any upwind opponent. It *insists* upon itself. Go to Google Images, the man can’t put a strand wrong, no matter who’s sinking their muddy studs into his ankles. 

1980s

How can one build upon the previous decade, I hear you ask? The answer: slowly, and with the discovery of Product. Witness Mick McGuire discovering the definition and shine only mousse can provide as his hot-roller-sculpted mane develops a more sophisticated flow and movement. He applied himself, he evolved; he triumphed. 

The same could not be said of Robert Fleck at the later half of the decade, but what a tryer though. Pitched against the follicular embodiment of a wild and heathery moor, the man faced so many natural challenges – but you cannot fail to salute his 1989 mullet. A classic of the ‘Knife and Fork’ style, it was the aesthetic equivalent of running full-pelt at one’s own unruly cuticles with a broadsword while screaming “FREEEEDOMMM.”

1980s Hair Hero: Dale Gordon. While others wrestled with their demons, he edged forward with delicate care and craftsmanship. His ultimate trophy: a collection of exquisitely oiled and twisted tendrils, evocative of a gentleman who looks like he most certainly knows his way around a Keytar. 

1990s 

A decade dominated by The Curtains. The prize for hardest worker goes to Darren Eadie, master of the gel-soaked, curl-taming twist on the genre – not the hardest thing he’s ever had to overcome but a close second. 

But at least he must have taken solace from looking at the ‘situation’ faced by Shaun Carey, whom we can only hope went on to be an early adopter of the Pantene and John Frieda ranges of frizz-taming silicones. Those window dressings needed a deep steam-iron, or replacing with some neat Venetian slats. 

1990s Hair Hero: Why bother when you have Daryl Sutch in the dressing room? He probably just wets it and it’s good to go. It must have been infuriating. 

2000s 

While the beginning of this era saw a faint flirtation with the stringy ear bits inspired by the tail-end of Britpop and the TFI Friday years, the dominant aesthetic was pointy and bleached, like a baby hedgehog trapped in a freshly disinfected paddling pool. 

Let’s not just focus on Hucks, although some may consider him the Paul McCartney of the Frosted Tips Gang. Him, David Bentley and Paul McVeigh clearly all egged each other on. From bootcuts to belt-buckles to barnets, there wasn’t one square inch of these chuckleheads that wasn’t acid-washed. I hope they’re all okay now. 

2000s Hair Hero: Yes okay, Darren Huckerby. But he was the most-fouled player in the Premier League for more than one reason. This award is contentious but luckily for him, soul patches don’t count as hair. 

2010s

An uneventful and undistinguished decade. Perhaps counting the physio cost of treating all those bleach burns, it looked to all intents and purposes as if the club had hired a pet groomer to go round the whole roster with industrial clippers, the first Thursday of every month. 

Whoever that was must have muttered “we’re going to need a bigger set of clippers” when Timm Klose joined. Like one of those babies featured in the Daily Mirror after being born with a full head of hair, he initially embraced the chaos before having it tamed into an unalarming but still highly aggressive peak. A pity, he really could have leaned into that, much like Onel Hernandez and his magnificent halo. 

2010s Hair Hero: I’m firmly pointing at Grant Holt. An unexpected and probably controversial choice from a really dull decade – but never before have such glorious heights of shithousery been topped with a side parting that looked as if it had been smoothed down with maternal saliva at the school gates. A style that said “What, me? Surely not, Sir.” 

2020s… so far

And so we find ourselves in the present day with an almost ridiculously rich multi-pack of what the WAGs would refer to as ‘lewks’. Granted, we’ve lost the iconic centre-parting of our former leader, but put any one of these combos on a blank Lego figure and they’d be instantly recognisable to any Norwich fan. It’s incredible. 

Tzolis. More or less actual Lego hair, surely only achievable through stencilling and spray techniques. Levels of neatness that make Craig David look like Columbo. Meanwhile, Kieran Dowell inexplicably channels Goodnight Sweetheart with the kind of slicked-down arrangement you’d find on someone selling you chocolates and nylons from the shadows of a wartime back alley. 

Then we have Josh Sargent, who has the exact hair we want to see in a future NCFC icon; recognisable even if executed in Crayola by primary-age hands. A flaming mass of energy that can hold its own, even when juxtaposed with a coral third strip, it’s almost anthropomorphic in how it expresses the emotions of its host. 

2020s Conditional Hair Hero: Mathias Normann has set Nodge Twitter afire with a promise to bring back that signing-month angel hair. Perfection only ever before glimpsed on the dreamiest boyfriends in Japanese dating sims. Bring this back, Mathias, then we can talk. We can even make you up a little trophy. 

The future ahead: Just how close is Grant Hanley to getting a full Wolverine, and is there anything we can do to encourage progress? If Dereham’s flaxen-tressed son Todd returns to us after his coastal Walkabout, will he evolve his look to reflect this spiritual development? Can Sørensen kick off his Good Boy trappings and give into his inner Travis Bickle? 

There are so many questions, interlinked with the uncertainty we all see in front of us. But no matter what heartbreak lies ahead, let’s take comfort in the fact that not one player has a soul patch. 

In the meantime, let’s be hairvin’ you… Whether it’s good, bad or bizarre, we invite you to nominate your own candidates.