The Etihad Stadium erupted on a chilly January evening in 2026 as Erling Haaland wheeled away in celebration once again. His goal had just sealed another Manchester City victory, but something far more historic had occurred: the Norwegian had become the fastest player ever to reach 100 Premier League goals. In the stands, a familiar question was murmured through scarves and social media feeds—was this the definitive return of the classic number nine?

It was a fair question. Cast your mind back to the 2021/22 campaign, and the idea of building a title-winning side around a ruthless, penalty-box striker seemed almost antiquated. Pep Guardiola’s City had just conquered England without a dependable centre-forward. Gabriel Jesus was the closest thing to one, yet injuries and form restricted him to a mere eight league goals. Instead, Guardiola deployed Phil Foden and Kevin De Bruyne as false nines, and the team still rattled in 150 goals across all competitions. Across the division, Liverpool’s Roberto Firmino had redefined the role of the centre-forward into a creative, deep-lying hub. Out-and-out goalscorers were out of fashion.

Then came the £51.2 million bargain that flipped the script. Haaland’s arrival sent shockwaves through boardrooms. Here was a striker who touched the ball less than almost any other forward in Europe—ranking in the bottom one percentile for touches per 90 minutes in 2025—and yet this season he has personally accounted for 44% of Manchester City’s Premier League goals. That is the biggest individual contribution in the division, a staggering number that makes directors of football across the country sweat.

Suddenly, everyone wanted their own Haaland. The summer of 2025 became an arms race for physical, lanky goalscorers. Four of the Premier League’s five most expensive signings fit the mold: Alexander Isak, Hugo Ekitike, Benjamin Sesko, and Nick Woltemade were all snapped up for eye-watering fees. Not to be outdone, Arsenal spent big on Viktor Gyokeres after his 97 goals in two seasons at Sporting Lisbon. Chelsea brought in both Joao Pedro and Liam Delap, while Newcastle coughed up £50 million for Yoanne Wissa despite his injury record. The total bill for these eight centre-forwards? A cool £505 million.

Half a season later, the returns are enough to make any accountant wince. Those eight strikers have collectively scored just 23 Premier League goals—an average of fewer than four each. Haaland, alone, has 19. The market had chased a ghost. Did nobody stop to ask whether the Norwegian’s relentless production was a symptom of a wider tactical swing, or simply the manifestation of a generational talent impossible to replicate?

The answer is increasingly obvious. Haaland is an outlier, not an archetype. He thrives in a City system perfectly engineered to feed him, and his own physical and mental attributes are freakish. Searching for a ‘next Haaland’ is like hunting for a unicorn—you might find a horse, but you’ll pay a unicorn’s price for it.

There are, of course, tactical reasons why traditional number nines have regained some allure. The widespread adoption of long throws and an increased emphasis on set-pieces has pushed the share of headed goals to 18% this season—the highest rate in five years. With many managers now prioritising technically elegant centre-halves who might lack old-fashioned physicality, the idea of a powerful target man who can exploit aerial weakness holds genuine appeal. Suddenly, the sight of a 6'4" striker bullying defenders made tactical sense again.

Yet, when you look at who is actually delivering, the picture becomes murkier. While clubs splurged on the Isaks and Gyokereses, veterans like Danny Welbeck and Dominic Calvert-Lewin—both signed on free transfers—have matched or bettered their scoring returns. Brentford’s Igor Thiago, a £30 million outlay for the Bees but a relative bargain in the wider context, has also proven far more cost-effective. The premium slapped onto any forward with a hint of Haaland-esque physique has wrecked their value for money.

Crunch the numbers and the absurdity crystallises. The eight most expensive striker signings of 2025 have cost around £14 million per goal involvement this season. By comparison, the eight most expensive attacking midfielders cost £15.2 million per goal involvement—but those playmakers also contribute immeasurably more to build-up play, pressing structures, and ball progression. Are a handful of goals worth such a one-dimensional investment?

This is where football finds itself in early 2026. Haaland’s brilliance has not signaled a permanent return to the 1990s era of out-and-out target men. Instead, it has created a financial trap. The fantasy of unearthing the ‘next Haaland’ has inflated prices to the point where any striker with a decent goal record and a towering frame carries catastrophic risk. Goals still win games, of course, and having a primary scorer is vital—but the modern game demands flexibility. The most intelligent squads are those that treat their number nine as one weapon among many, not a saviour expected to carry the entire attacking burden.

As the dust settles on another transfer window, the lesson is stark. Haaland did not revive the classic striker market; he distorted it. And right now, too many clubs are left counting the cost of a mirage.