Score One for Jamie's Hair by Deke Cutter

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I've been working on this story on and off. I just had to get it off my plate.


Jamie had been a professional football player (soccer to you Americans) long enough to know that his recent slump wasn’t the end of the world, but with a transfer window was opening, he knew he had to find a way to improve his form or else he might well end up with a team in the bottom half of the table, in danger of relegation. He hated the thought. He stood looking in the mirror combing his red hair back off his forehead and brushing the sides so that they didn’t completely cover his ears. The back, he knew was almost getting too long. He would probably hear about it at lunch today. He was meeting with his mentor and, truth be told, childhood idol Mike Carter, a well-respected former player for the English Premier League and, like Jamie, for Scotland’s national team. Mike was old school and believed in hard work, training and, as he put it "no o’ this faffin’ about," which for Mike meant anything that he didn’t agree with.

Jamie had given up on trying to arrive before Mike when they met for a meal, because Mike always managed to arrive before him, or if Jamie did arrive first, Mike would call and say that a late appointment at the BBC or with some important executive had made him change the plan to a restaurant twenty minutes away. So, Jamie just decided that getting there on time and taking Mike’s little jabs was the easiest way. "Well Jamie," Mike said, "I was wondering if I was going to have go out looking for you, but it looks like you were probably at some fancy salon getting your hair done."

"Very droll, Mike, hou’re ye, mate?’

"Nae baud. The radio work keeps me busy during season, and I’m looking at some more work in front of the camera too. You know what our Kathy’s like, anything to keep me out of the house. I swear she calls these people up and asks them to give me work." Jamie laughed at that. Kathy loved nothing more than spending as much time with Mike and their children as she could. He had come to know both Mike and Kathy who had once, like Victoria Beckham, been a frequent feature in the tabloids as one of the WAGs (Wives and Girlfriends) of the sport stars of Mike’s era. And like the Beckhams, Mike and Kathy married and raised a family. Unlike the Beckhams, though, they kept their private lives private.

Over the next hour Jamie and Mike discussed Jamie’s recent play. Mike watched all of Jamie’s matches, either at the stadium, if he was not working another match or else, he watched the ‘tape’ afterwards. Mike was always honest and straightforward, giving Jamie training advice as well. Mike also told Jamie what his thoughts were on the possibility of his being transferred to one of the bigger clubs. They agreed that they would meet with Jamie’s business manager to discuss that further. Finally, Mike gave him a last piece of advice for the day. "I know I tease you about your hair but let me tell you this as the man who, next to your daddy, cares most about you and your career. Get that mop cut off. You remember that whole kerfuffle that happened with Mason Mount when he was embarrassed into getting his haircut. Be proactive lad, not only will it make you look tougher, but it becomes one less thing to worry about. I’m talking about very short! Your Lucy will understand and if she doesn’t, well you send over to me, or better still to Kathy, she’ll set her straight. Now, do I have to take you myself or can you get there on your own?"

Jamie knew when he was being dismissed and knew better than to argue with Mike after all the good advice and time a living legend of the game had given him. "No Mike, I’ll see to it. Thanks for lunch, I pay next time. I’ll probably have plenty of ‘dosh’ after Lucy breaks it off with me anyway" he said with a wry grin.

Jamie had never been to a barber shop. When he was a child, his mother would trim his bowl cut in their kitchen. His dad wasn’t bothered one way or the other. Big Jim, as his father was known, was a short back and sides man, now, but had long shaggy hair until he started his own business building extensions on homes, fitting new kitchens and baths and similar jobs. Big Jim just found it simpler. Once Jamie’s older sister Jean qualified as hairdresser, she took over haircutting duties for Jamie and their mum. But today was the day. Training didn’t start until 1000 and most of the local barbers opened at least an hour earlier. Jamie lived in a high-rise apartment building on the canal, fairly close to the training ground but he took his car to a shopping precinct closer to where he had grown up after his family moved down from Scotland when Jamie’s talent had been recognized by the club and he had been signed to their youth academy. "Better chance of not seeing any of the boys," he thought. He meant his teammates who he knew would give him ‘plenty of stick’ when he showed up shorn. Luckily, he had what he called his "low profile car" that day. Like most star athletes, he had his vanity car, but when he wanted to go unnoticed, he would get out his Vauxhall Astra. Not only was it less noticeable, but it was less likely to get nicked. He found a small shop on a side street that looked like it would do. It appeared to be a two-chair shop and there was a parking space just across the street.

Jamie couldn’t believe how nervous he felt as he stepped out of the car and started across the street. "Come on mate," he said to himself, "you’ve taken penalty shots against the best goalkeepers in the league and not been this nervous. Get a grip." He opened the door and was greeted by two young looking barbers. One had his hair buzzed and the other had a tight fade with about two inches of hair on top combed over to the side. "Welcome sir, have a seat," said the barber with the fade. "My name is Ken, and this is Andrew."

"Everybody calls me Andy," said the second barber.

"I’m Jamie."

"Yes sir, we’re both fans. Don’t worry, we can be as discreet as you want us to be", said Ken as he placed the cape over Jamie. "Now what kind of haircut would you like today?"

"Well, I’m looking for a big change. "(As he said this, Jamie ran his fingers through his hair). "Not quite a buzz cut, but maybe leaving a half inch or so on top that I can maybe brush it up after a match and not too severe a fade on the sides, maybe a three going down to a two. With this ginger hair, I can end up looking like an over ripe melon if I go too short, don’t you think?"

Both barbers smiled as he said the last few words and Ken quickly responded, "that sound reasonable, if your sure you want to make that big of change." With that, Ken caped him up and put the strip around his neck. "All right now Jamie, you just relax and we’ll get started." Ken combed through Jamie’s soft red hair and commented on what good condition it was in. Then, he picked up his barber shears and said. "I’ll start by removing some of this length. It makes it a bit easier when I start with the clippers on the sides and back."

There was something familiar about the way Ken and Andy spoke. It was the particular accent of that area. He knew it and spoke it too, but at home and with Mike, he could easily slip back into his Scots accent, and he was proud it never left him completely. He was brought back from his reverie as Ken started chopping away at the hair on the sides and back of his head. Soon, his hair no longer touched his ears or his collar. "There you are mannie, we’re off to a good start. Now I can get me clippers in there." With that, Ken wasted no time in taking the back down very tight. He then moved round to the right side of Jamie’s head and did the same. As he turned around to switch clipper blades, Jamie pulled his hands out from under the cape.

"That’s decent. I like the way it feels already."

"Well get yer hands back under the cape or we’ll be here all day ya bawbag," Ken joked, as he began tapering the back with the number two and continued to the sides. Jamie relaxed as the clippers were rubbed up and down the back and sides of his head and taken gently around his ears. He hardly noticed when Ken removed most of his sideboards. "Now, Jamie, I’ll start with a number four on top, as you asked to leave a half inch, but I’ll cut the fringe with my shears when I get there, mate, so just stay still and enjoy it. Ken expertly removed most of the remaining longer hair on top of jamie’s head. Leaving just the first two inches flopping down on his forehead. The longer hair now lay on the floor behind him. "OK, Jamie," said Ken, pulling the fringe up to its full length with his comb, and slicing it down to about an inch and a half. It now fell to about the middle of Jamie’s forehead. Rather than cut more length immediately, he point cut across the entire front, then, when satisfied, cut some more off. He switched to thinning shears and lightly closed them once on the thickest middle section. He sprayed the hair once more, and combed it forward again. Trimmed a bit here and there. Then he said, let me just clean up around your neck and ears, then we’ll fix the top and show you yer new look. Before Jamie could say a word, he heard a gurgling sound that turned out to be the hot lather dispenser and he felt the sensation of the warm soapy mixture on his neck and ears and where his sideburns once had been. "Now hold steady lad." Skrit, skrit, skrit." Jamie had never felt anything like it, but it felt great.

Next came a warm towel to wipe any leftover soap. And a second one over his head to get some of the little hairs out of the way. Then Ken was back combing the short hair forward on top and taking a small pot of a product, opening it and showing it to Jamie. "Now see, I’m just taking about a dime sized amount and I am going to work it in my hands until it becomes clear. First, I am going to lightly apply some from the back forward, then, lift the fringe and apply it across the front." Jamie could feel the difference. Next take your brush and tidy it up." Ken moved behind Jamie and showed him what he meant. "This should take you no time at all. If you want to leave it down just comb it forward when you get out of the shower. What do you think?"

"I love it! Thank you. This is exactly what I needed and wanted. It will be so much easier for training and for match days."

"Either of us can give you a quick clean up before a match mate, just stop in or call us and one of can get over to the grounds in a haircut emergency, Ken said as all three laughed. The obligatory "after" pictures were taken then selfies with each barber. Jamie paid Ken and tipped him generously. Both barbers promised that they would not say anything to anyone for two days, giving him a chance to let his girlfriend and the team see his new look and for him to get used to it before the next match on Saturday. Jamie also promised them both a hospitality package for an upcoming match when they were both available. When he got back to his flat, the first thing he did was send pictures to Lucy and Mike. He knew Lucy was working so he did not expect to hear from her until midday at the earliest. He didn’t know when he would hear from Mike. He went into the bathroom to check out the haircut again. Yeah, he liked it. He ran his hands up the back of his head, oh, yeah! He couldn’t wait for Lucy to do that. He changed into shorts and a hoody and headed up to the training ground.

When he arrived for training, he flipped his hood up and went into the changing room. A few of the other players were there changing and getting ready for practice. Greetings were shared and everyone was well into their own business when he realized he could put off the inevitable no longer. He pulled off his hoody and changed into his practice shirt just as his best mate on the team walked in. "Spider," as everyone called the lanky scoring machine who Jamie often partnered with in getting the ball down the pitch said in his loud Mancs voice, "who is that young man with the short hair using me mate James Andrew’s locker," so that everyone in the room turned to look at Jamie.

"Could ya no say it any louder ya daft bugger," Jamie replied, as Spider went over and rubbed his hand up the back of Jamie’s head.

"That’s ma boyo. Ye look like a real tough man now." You’ll scare those London fannies, I’ll tell you. What say you boys?"

"Yeah nice one, Jamie, ‘bout time Jamie, and other typical responses of agreement followed as "the boys" hurried out to the practice pitch. And Jamie didn’t know if it was the haircut, but he had one of his best practice days. And that continued. Jamie was like a new man. Being a typically superstitious athlete, he returned to his new barber two weeks later and decided that Mike had been right. The short hair was working for him on and off the pitch. Lucy came around quickly to his new haircut and really loved not having to compete with him for the hair dryer and styling products. All seemed to be going well when disaster struck in the form of an Achilles injury in the match against one of his club’s major rivals. Recovery would be slow and difficult.

Jamie was so down in the dumps after the injury that haircuts were the last thing on his mind. After two months of rest and rehab, his fast-growing hair was starting to look shaggy again. He was scheduled to start light workouts with the team in a week when his sister insisted on trimming up around his ears and neck. "I don’t know what you are doing now, growing your hair or just being your old lazy self, but I’ll not have you going out to the training ground looking unkempt little brother." Jamie was still in a funk over missing so much time that he didn’t bother to argue or respond. His rehabilitation seemed to be successful, and he was anxious to show the bosses that he could get fit and back on the first squad quickly. Unfortunately, this did not leave him time to visit his favorite barbers and his hair grew more.

In his first match back, he was substituted in the second half, and he did not play well. Some commentators and pundits put it down to his not being ready to return or being out of rhythm. One or two of his teammates whispered "it’s the hair. He was always second class when he had long hair and it looks like he’s growing it out." Jamie just thought it was down to being away for a while. But his form was not returning, and he was starting to worry. That is when Mike came to see him.

"Look at you," Mike exclaimed, as he and Jamie sat in the lounge of Jamie’s flat.

"What?" Jamie asked. I’m in great condition. I am in the gym more than any of the lads."

Mike stood up and called Jamie across the room to where a mirror was placed above the drinks cabinet. "Look at that hair. You’ve dared to ruin your run by letting that hair grow out. Now let’s get you down to that barbers and see to it." And before Jamie could complain or reply, he was in Mike’s Jaguar and in front of Ken and Andy’s shop. Ken’s expecting you."

"Jamie, mate, it’s about time," said Ken. "In the chair, man. We have work to do," Twenty-five minutes later, Jamie’s hair was once again short, in fact the sides were the shortest they had ever been. "That should have you streamlined for the next time you are on the pitch. Your man there in the Jag tells me you will be back in regularly. We know Mike, lad, you could do worse than listen to him." And, of course, Mike and the barber were right, Jamie’s form returned with the haircut. In fact, two of his teammates, upon seeing the way Jamie played once he was shorn again begged him to take them to his barbers and both ended up with hair as short as Jamie’s. His team ended in an unexpected second place in the league standings and the rest is haircut history.

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