The problem with women’s football

The problem with women’s football is that when I am watching it, it appears nobody else is. The stadia in which it is played are virtually empty and even major events such as the Women’s World Cup Final only get viewed worldwide by 23 million people compared with the 517 million who viewed the World Cup Final for people who don’t menstruate (you have to be so careful these days). I am delighted, in a completely non-patronising manner that women play football. The game for women is enormous in the United States with obvious results. Their national women’s team has won their World Cup multiple times. What is less well known is that one of those World Cup winning teams got thumped by an under-15 boys’ team in 2017. There’s no escaping the developmental advantages of testosterone.

As stated above, I do watch women’s football. But when any one of my unreconstructed misogynistic sons are around, they complain and change the channel. They would sooner watch Curling Live from Clachnacuddin ice rink with the commentary in Gaelic than watch women’s football. Despite the fact that I do watch it from time to time I can only name one female footballer, the delightful and extremely articulate and intelligent Eniola Aluko formerly of several teams including two spells at Chelsea and who played for England. But I am only aware of her because her brother “Sone” Aluko played for my local team Hull City, and they both famously scored on the same day for their respective teams. Another very photogenic member of the England squad trained for a period in the elite gym managed by one of my sons, but I never learned her name. I must admit, from the perspective of the male gaze, that there are a great many ‘fair ladies’ amongst the footballing sorority. When the Swedish or Dutch teams are on the pitch my eyes are out on stalks. If they are playing against each other then it’s almost impossible to concentrate on the football.

However, in a completely non-sexist, non-misogynistic or lustful way, the women’s game is very graceful, free from fouls and free from diving. It is also free from—how can I put it sensitively—entertainment, buzz, tension and humour. Soccer it may be but, in a word, what it lacks is a magic ingredient commonly recognised as football. But fear not, inspired as I am by ‘rudder-assisted swimmer’ Lia Thomas the formerly useless participant in men’s swimming who changed gender and now, miraculously, is a champion participant in women’s swimming, I see a solution for women’s football. Get more men to play in the teams. Against the rules you say? Well, no, not if they are men described as transgender women. It is not an original idea and some are already there such as Mara Gomez, Quinn (no other name) and Blair Hamilton (didn’t even make much of an effort to change his name). A few more of these burly specimens in the women’s game and things will change. Unable to shake off the competitive advantage afforded them by years of having testosterone in their bloodstream we will soon see women being scythed down like trees in the penalty box, fisticuffs between players and Olympic class diving whenever a player is pushed off the ball.

Things ought to liven up a bit in the stand too. There is woefully little noise from the crowd at women’s football. Mind you it is hard to get a song going when you are sitting twenty feet from the next person. But if things liven up on the pitch, more lads will come along and watch. In honour of my proposed transgender influx into the women’s game they could rework a few of the old classics such as ‘Who ate all the oestrogen?’. If women’s rugby follows suit—mind you, looking at it I think it may already have—that great rugby classic could be reworked to ‘Swing Low Sweet Genitalia’. The possibilities are endless. Over to you in the studio Gary…

Roger Watson is a retired academic, editor and writer. He is a columnist with Unity News Network and writes regularly for a range of conservative journals including The Salisbury Review and The European Conservative. He has travelled and worked extensively in the Far East and the Middle East. He lives in Kingston upon Hull, UK.