After the latest in my seemingly endless run of disastrous trips to the hairdresser I was only prevented from crying myself to sleep by remembering all those footballers who’ve had worse luck than me over the years.

When I went in to my local lock-choppers and asked for a standard trim I ended up with a cross between a comb over and a mullet.

God only knows what these blighters asked for when they walked through the doors of their local salons.

Ronaldo’s 2002 tuft was the first in a series of bad decisions by the once best player in the world. Still, it helped him score not once, not twice, but eight times at that year’s World Cup, which is more than can be said for his decision to pick up three trannies in a Rio de Janeiro nightclub.

Another man who has done his fair share for barbers’ retirement funds is David James. But then he’s got enough money to piss around, being an artist and writing for the Guardian in his spare time.

He also did some modelling for Giorgio Armani in 1995, but not even models can get away with a side parting like this.

Being Belgian may work as an excuse for some things, but not for looking like Screech from Saved by the Bell. Marouane Fellaini’s hair has been well-documented in recent weeks, and justifiably. It’s absolutely crap.

Let’s hope he brushes his teeth more than the average Belgian, who apparently does so only 1.8 times a week. Otherwise he’ll have no chance with the WAGs.

If God had intended hair to be bright yellow he wouldn’t have made bleach so good at unblocking drains. Try telling that to Benfica midfielder Hassan Yebda though, who may have to rethink his barnet if he finds himself turning out in fashionable Milan next season.

Remember that time you went out wearing your nan’s wig after the dog had pissed all over it?

No, you don’t, because you would have looked like a total twat, yet that’s what Stephen Hunt chooses to do every day.

People with ginger hair normally don’t grow it, and they certainly don’t grow a beard to go with it. But then Alexei Lalas isn’t like most normal people. He’s proud as punch of his ginger hair, as the title of his 1998 solo album Ginger confirms.

For years everyone thought mardy Gaul William Gallas was a slaphead, and he was until he seemingly mixed up his hair loss treatment with a bag of compost* and ended up sporting a giant dog turd on his bonce**.

*For legal reasons it’s perhaps wise to state that the above story may not be completely true.