Why I’m paying attention to the Women’s [Football] World Cup
I’m no sports fan—anyone who knows me will tell you I have a hard time telling a silly point from a mid-on or a drop shot from a forehand slice, though I can of course tell that these have to do with entirely different games. Like anyone else, I enjoy joining in the frenzy of a big cricket face-off or cheering for my family’s favourite at a Grand Slam final, but it’s more about the cultural moment rather than an interest in the sport itself. After all, there is an undeniable aesthetic, an excitement associated with the intense competition, physical and mental challenge and the unfolding of strategy on a field or a court. But in general, I’d rather bury my head in a book or watch a movie or even take a walk in the park, in my moments of leisure. Or of course, listen to a good podcast.
But this year’s FIFA Women’s World Cup (July 20 – August 20) has been something else, and in spite of myself, I have been drawn into the drama, the joy, the stories behind the women’s game and the players themselves. I catch snippets of what’s happening on the various news podcasts I listen to, mainly BBC (which has a daily round up for those keen on following the game) and The Guardian, which in addition to its weekly podcast and an episode last week of Today in Focus, for noobs like me has a lovely interactive set of profilesthat allow you to learn about the teams across all the groups. A short curtain raiser, though almost entirely US focused, is offered by NPR in this 3-minute listen. Most outlets have paid a fair amount of attention to the politics behind the women’s game, the bittersweet stories of failure and triumph that seem to have riding on them so much more than a trophy or ranking. In many of the countries represented, women have had to struggle for a space in the sporting world, and to have a spot in the arena is itself a victory of sorts.
For the footballers from Afghanistan, some of whom were airlifted to Australia, there can be no national team, as their country forbids women from playing and FIFA will only recognize teams that have their country’s recognition. For the US women, this is the first World Cup where their payout will match the men’s, largely due to the activism of players like Megan Rapinoe. For the players from countries like Portugal and Chile, where the men’s game is religion, the women play not just for themselves, but to build hope among the next generation. The sporting gear and attire are as much in the news as are the togs—there’s discussion around how the New Zealand team decided against white shorts due to period anxiety, and Pakistan midfielder Amina Hanif talks about what it’s like to play football in the hijab. Eight of the 32 teams will be playing their first World Cup tournament—including Zambia, Haiti and Morocco.
It's no secret that this very minimal attention (on my part) to the athletic world is entirely because I have a couple of sports crazy people in my family, including one who played first class cricket for the better part of two decades and missed the national team by an over or two, and a tennis buff whose retired life is organized around playing and watching the game. I’ve written about the seesaw of heartache and hope that parents must ride when a child enters this ultra-competitive world, and there is a particular poignancy when that child happens to identify as female.
So much of so many women’s sports—particularly team sports—are under pressure to prove that they belong on the professional stage, are worthy of investment, and can draw audiences and build loyal fan bases. The pressure to perform is thus not just about taking back a championship, but felt in homes and hometowns, a burden of proof [of worth] carried on the shoulders of so many of the young women who had to fight to be allowed to play, to claw out resources and permissions to even enter the fray, let alone make the grade.
A recent viral video made by the French company Orange made the point that the women’s game is as [if not more] exciting as [than] the men’s, and it’s deep seated biases that prejudice how we watch. But course it’s not just the economics of play, which might be argued with evidence and education, but the embedding of play as legitimate leisure for women in cultural and social imaginaries. Greater visibility of women’s sports allows girls to themselves on the playing field, having fun, and possibly leveling it at some point in the future.
Also listen:
Women’s football: passion versus profit
Plus: Netflix has a forthcoming series focusing on the US team and Megan Rapinoe’s “last dance” at the 2023 World Cup