We all know Forest like to do things in their unique way but even by their standards this is madness…

Nottingham Forest have never been the kind of club to follow the script. From the glory days under Brian Clough to the modern-day rollercoaster of promotion, survival, and squad overhauls, the Reds have always walked their own path—often barefoot, through a forest fire, backwards. But even by Forest’s famously erratic standards, the current situation feels like something else entirely.

A club that has made headlines as much for its off-field decisions as its on-field performances, Forest now seems locked in a cycle of self-inflicted chaos. Last season’s survival was nothing short of miraculous, not just because of the points won, but because of how they were won—amid a backdrop of constant turnover, injuries, VAR controversy, and enough drama to fill a Netflix series. And just when fans hoped for a summer of stability, the madness continues.

There’s the relentless churn of players: signings upon signings, many of whom never get a chance to settle. Since returning to the Premier League, Forest have acquired enough players to field three separate squads, yet still seem to lack cohesion. Every window brings a new rebuild, with each manager handed a jigsaw puzzle—only to have half the pieces swapped out before they can finish the picture.

Then there’s the leadership structure, where owner Evangelos Marinakis wields influence like a Roman emperor—passionate, ambitious, but prone to abrupt decisions. Managers come and go, sporting directors are reshuffled, and internal politics bubble beneath the surface. The recent changes behind the scenes have raised eyebrows again, with rumours swirling of strategic differences and power plays. It’s not always clear who’s steering the ship—or whether they’ve agreed on a destination.

And yet, amid all the chaos, Forest endure. The City Ground remains one of the most atmospheric grounds in England. The fans, long-suffering but fiercely loyal, turn up in their thousands, rain or shine, to back the club. They know better than most that Forest do things differently. It’s part of the identity—frustrating, baffling, occasionally brilliant.

There’s a strange resilience in the madness. Somehow, against the odds, Forest stay afloat. Somehow, players with no connection to the city a year ago fight like locals on the pitch. Somehow, the club keeps finding a way—not a smooth, methodical way, but a scrappy, heart-racing, defiant way.

Still, one has to wonder: how long can this model sustain itself? How long can chaos serve as a strategy? Stability breeds success in the Premier League, and Forest, despite their flashes of brilliance, often look one misstep away from disaster.

We all know Forest like to do things in their unique way. But right now, the club’s very identity seems to be built on unpredictability. For the fans, it’s exhausting and exhilarating in equal measure.