GORMAN GETS HIS GLOVES OFF
I have this in common with Giggs and it’s not my silky soccer skills
ROBIN VAN PERSIE, Ryan Giggs, Jose Mourinho and me. What do we have in common? Unfortunately, it is not that we are football geniuses nor is it that we are adored by millions. While it may be true for those three, I can’t quite claim to possess their footballing qualities nor am I adored by millions (thousands would be more accurate).
What we do share though, is a secret. A secret that we keep to ourselves for as long as we can before eventually having to spill the beans. And that deep, dark secret? Our beautiful bonces have all been invaded by follicles of the grey variety. That’s right, my name is Daniel Oliver Gorman and I’m going grey.
Robin Van Persie is 30, Ryan Giggs 40 and Jose Mourinho is the wrong side of 50 by a year. I am only 24. I was a few months away from being a 90’s child.
Their plights are understandable. But me? What did I do to deserve this affliction?
I remember when I spotted my first grey intruder. I was staring longingly into the mirror, getting lost in the reflection staring back at me. And then something caught my eye. There was a shine in my hair, almost a sparkle. But not the shine the ladies on the ads get. No amount of L’Oreal could create this glimmer, no matter how worth it I am. My face immediately ran cold and I lunged towards the mirror for closer inspection. There was no denying it. Plopped there like a morbidly obese person squeezing into an airplane seat, was a grey hair. A quick ruffle of the barnet soon hid the monstrosity from sight.
But even though it was hidden from view like an unwanted child in the attic, I still knew it was there. Sitting there, with its stupid greyness on my lovely head, it was weighing me down, man.
According to Goole, a single strand of hair four and a half inches in length weighs, on average, 0.62 milligrams. Well, to me, this disobedient, Judas stray of hair weighed a tonne.
I started looking up pictures of bald men to make myself feel better. I re-watched the Christmas special of Father Ted dozens of time just to see Fr. Unctuous. Balding and grey? This was like porn to me. But these were short-term fixes to a long-term problem.
If you believe the rumours, finding a needle in a haystack is quite the troublesome task. Well the same can’t be said for finding Greyzo (my nickname for him, keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that). He was one solitary hair in a head of over 100,000 of the bastards. Why did he insist on being such an attention seeker?
It started to take over my life. I stopped listening to David Gray, never watched another episode of Grey’s Anatomy and as for Fifthy Shades of Grey? It was like the world was mocking me. There was no escaping it.
It didn’t stop there. Anytime Andy Gray was commentating on the football, I’d have to dive for the remote and hit the mute button. It was just too painful. I haven’t stepped foot in Greystones either.
I know this isn’t a popular subject. Maybe you could say it’s even a bit of a grey area. But I felt that I had to talk about this. We can’t let them win. We won’t let them win! So now, to the elephant in the room. Hair dye. It’s the 21st century, lads. Is it really so wrong? I have been suffering in silence for close to a year now. That silver snake of a hair is no longer alone. He’s brought a few friends along to the party.
My fiancée ensures me that it is irrelevant to her, she loves me no matter what. She even tells me I would be quite distinguished with a head of grey hair. But she understands what I’m going through. She sympathises with me.
She tells me that if it bogs me down that much, I should pop out and get some Just For Men and cull the feckers. But do I want to? I don’t know.
All this stress can’t be helping the cause. If anyone out there has any answers for me, please get in touch.
And remember, if you are a fellow sufferer, you are not alone.