A History of Two Halves (And How Women's Football Finally Won)

This is me. Christmas 1996.  Try telling this 9-year-old that in thirty years’ time, they won’t even follow their beloved West Ham United, let alone play football.  At nine, I was playing regularly, with the boys, and had posters from Match magazine plastered all over my claret-and-blue bedroom walls.  Then puberty hit and I wasn’t allowed to play with the boys anymore.  My school didn’t have a girls’ team and my options for playing for fun dwindled until I drifted away from football completely.  I’ve told this story many times before, but it’s worth telling again, if only because that 9-year-old probably wouldn’t believe what I witnessed on Sunday night either. And because, thanks to those girls and women who – unlike me – kept fighting for their right to play, the story of women’s football in this country has changed forever.

Let’s start at the beginning.  Well, not right at the beginning, because the roots of football as a game, and women’s role in it, are a little too complex and disputed for this blog to address in one post. (Perhaps another day?) Let’s start at the beginning of the “modern” game in England: 7 May 1881. The first recorded women’s football match.  England play Scotland (though there’s some controversy over the true nationality of the players) and Lily St Clair scores the first goal, making her the first ever recorded female goal-scorer.  Scotland win 2-0.

 

Following this, the popularity of the women’s game continued to grow during the 1880s and 1890s, with many teams – as with the men’s game – being formed from factory workers.  There were strong ties between women’s football and the suffrage movement too, with female footballers offering women a chance to disprove the argument - often wheeled out to oppose the idea of giving them the vote - that women were in some way physically inferior to men.

 

During World War I, with many men away fighting, women’s football really came to the fore.  This was the era of superstar winger Lily Parr, who played for Dick, Kerr’s Ladies (named after the Preston munitions factory they worked in) and scored over 900 goals during her 30-year career. By 1921, there were some 150 women’s teams, with games often drawing crowds of around 50,000 (more than many men’s matches).

But, of course, men couldn’t allow matters to continue this way.  When women returned to the domestic sphere after the war ended, some critics became more vocal in questioning the impact of football on women’s health, and, on 5 December 1921, the FA announced a ban on women playing at professional grounds, or, indeed, the grounds of any club affiliated to the FA, stating that "the game of football is quite unsuitable for females and ought not to be encouraged."  The ban would remain in place for the next fifty years.

Yet women did not take it lying down.  On 10 December 1921, 30 teams formed the English Ladies Football Association (ELFA) and women continued to play throughout the 1930s, 40s and 50s.  New clubs were set up and teams played at smaller grounds or on rugby pitches instead.

Throughout the 1960s, as women began to demand more rights in all areas of life, pressure mounted for the ban to be lifted.  However, the decade was nearly out before, on 1 November 1969, representatives from 44 clubs attended the first meeting of the Women’s Football Association (WFA).  At a meeting of the FA Council on 19 January 1970, the FA voted to rescind the ban, but it wasn’t until 24 June 1971 that, at the FA’s AGM, the amendment was finally implemented, allowing women to legitimately play again.

 

In the years that followed, there were many firsts.  Southampton won the first Women’s FA Cup in 1971.  The first official WFA England team played Scotland in 1972 (England won 3-2, for anyone who’s keeping score).  1984 saw the first UEFA competition for national representative women’s teams.  In 1991, a 24-club national league was founded and the same year introduced the inaugural FIFA Women’s World Cup.

 

Things were certainly looking up for the women’s game in England.  The WFA had been brought under the umbrella of the FA during the 1993-94 season and, in 1998, the legendary Hope Powell was made the first full-time coach of the women’s team.  The Women’s Euros came to England in 2005 and, although England failed to make it out of the group stage, fans flocked to the games in their replica shirts.  Four years later, the FA introduced central contracts, which meant women could begin to make a career out of football, though their salaries of £16,000 may seem laughable today.  The Women’s Super League (WSL) was launched in 2011, but wouldn’t turn fully professional until 2018.

 

Probably one of the most important moments though, for England’s women, was the appointment in September 2021 of Sarina Wiegman as head coach.  Wiegman had won the 2017 Euros with her native Netherlands (who had roundly beaten England 3-0 in the semi-final) and her success was set to continue: England have lost just seven of the 47 matches they have played since she took charge.

 

Roll on 2022, and the Covid-delayed 2021 Euros.  This was the tournament that rekindled my passion for football.  I hadn’t watched a match in years, but somehow, I got hooked again, and was rewarded with seeing England win in the final at Wembley.  European Champions.  Incredible.  The victory had a huge impact on the women’s game.  Salaries in the WSL went up and attendance at WSL games increased 267%.

Fast forward two years, and I’m watching in agony as England lose to Spain in the World Cup Final.  And now, onto 2025, and I’m watching in joy as England reach their third major final in a row – and win, again, becoming the first English football team to retain a title and win a trophy on foreign soil.  The manner in which they won may have received criticism from some quarters, but for me, it makes it all the more inspirational: the self-belief and resilience of this team means they may have been down at times, but they were never out.  The players are now household names, their successes celebrated in the mainstream media; women’s football is now televised as a matter of course.  Everything has changed.

My school has a permanent girls’ team now.  So do all the other schools in the area.  So do all the local grassroots clubs.  But there is still work to be done.  Girls are still less likely to kick a ball around at playtime (don’t even get me started on gendered footwear for schoolchildren), but the doors are at least open to them should they want to use them. Sometimes it’s a challenge to convince the kids to put down the Ronaldo book and pick up the Bronze one, but at least she’s on the shelf.

 

Chloe Kelly celebrates her winning goal
agains Italy. The supreme confidence of this
woman is truly refreshing.

For those humbugs grumbling about all this fuss over ‘just a game’, a note on the serious side.  Even if you’re not an elite sports star, we all know how beneficial regular exercise can be, for both your physical and mental health.  Yet, despite this, there are some shocking statistics around the participation of girls and women in sport.  61% of teenage girls feel judged when taking part in sport; 84% report losing interest after their period starts.  And it’s not just in the teenage years – it starts earlier too.  49% of girls aged 5 to 11 take part in a team sport, compared to 70% of boys.  I see the impact of this every day.  Girls are bombarded from the earliest age with the message that strength, fitness and competitiveness are not feminine traits.  It is both incredibly damaging and concerning.  (On a side note, the timing of all three of England’s finals taking place in the summer holidays has made it harder to capitalise on the success in the classroom in an effort to challenge stereotypes around sport.  As well as inspiring girls, creating allies amongst the boys is just as important and just as much of a battle.)

I don’t watch men’s football anymore but I follow the women avidly, and try to enjoy the England women’s success without too much bitterness.  I probably wouldn’t have ended up playing football professionally, but I would have liked the chance to find out.  However, I do celebrate that there is now a generation of girls who can find out; who have a team full of incredible role models to look up to; women who have shown the grit, determination, physicality and confidence that girls are so often encouraged not to display.  Long may it continue.

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References and further reading:

https://www.thefa.com/womens-girls-football/heritage/kicking-down-barriers

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/articles/zjp8jsg

 

https://www.thewomensorganisation.org.uk/history-of-womens-football/

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/teach/class-clips-video/articles/zbdjvk7

 

https://www.englandfootball.com/england/womens-senior-team/Legacy/History

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/football/66533140

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/newsbeat-33064421

 

https://womeninsport.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/SportStereotypes-and-Stolen-Dreams_exec-Summary.pdf

 

https://womeninsport.org/resource/reframing-sport-for-teenage-girls-tackling-teenage-disengagement/

 

https://www.nuffieldhealth.com/article/menstrual-cycle-impact-on-physical-activity

What the World Cup means to me

I love football.  For all its bloated, grey-suited misogynist executives, its overpaid superstars and its moronic, ugly hooliganism, I love it.  I love to play it and to watch it, whether professionals on television or lumbering amateurs in the local park on a Sunday. My winter weekends are instantly brightened by a win for West Ham.  I buy shirts and scarves and mugs and hats.  I glue my ear to the fuzzy static of Five Live commentary and watch live scores from the Scottish League Two scroll up my television screen on a Saturday afternoon.

But what I really love is football's unifying power.  The rules aren't hard to learn (yes, even the offside one) and you don't need any expensive equipment - four jumpers and something vaguely round to kick about and you're all set.  Kids (and adults) all over the world can join in with a game - on parks, and beaches and dusty streets in every country on the planet, you can bet you'll find an impromptu football game.

And I really love the World Cup.  I love the vibrant palette of colours, of the flags and the kits.  I love the melting pot of different names, languages and anthems.  I love the fans – people from all over the world united by their passion for the beautiful game.  I love the drama - the heroes (and villains) that materialise.  I love making miniature flags of the participating nations (yes, I know).  I love all the back-stories, the politics and the history, the little emerging nations, and the journeys they’ve been on to find eleven men lining up on an acre of grass to run their legs off for their country.

This year, the team that’s caught my heart and my imagination, unsurprisingly, is Bosnia-Herzegovina.  Playing in their first World Cup, the Bosnian football team is the only national institution that can say it truly embodies the Balkan country’s multicultural heritage, which was so viciously torn apart by the war of the early 1990s.  Whilst many Bosnian Croats will be supporting Croatia and the majority of Bosnian Serbs couldn't care less about the World Cup since Serbia didn't qualify, on the pitch, Bosnian Croats, Serbs and Bosniaks will play side by side.  The team are of a generation that grew up in the shadow of the war; many left the country and spent their childhood as refugees abroad, but others lived through the horror of the conflict.  Surely the ultimate fairytale is that of Manchester City’s Edin Džecko, who spent the war as a child under siege in Sarajevo, and who the fans will be looking to set their World Cup campaign alight.  More recently the country, which has spent the last twenty years trying to rebuild itself, was devastated by flooding at the end of May.  Success at the World Cup would really give Bosnians something to smile about.  They've been drawn in a fairly open group, and have a realistic chance of coming second to Argentina, who they play in their opening match tomorrow.  I’ve got my flag and my shirt all ready. 

But what I can’t stand, is the England team.  I mean, I’m as English as they come.  I’ve searched extensively through my family tree and I cannot find a single drop of non-English blood in me.  (There was a time when I thought my Scottish surname might lead me somewhere, but it appears that we are of the West Ham Wilson Clan).  Everything about the English team turns me off – we have a dreary anthem, a boring kit, thuggish fans and whiny, over-hyped players.  I can’t hear an English player or pundit on the radio without wanting to throw something at it.  I can understand why my non-football loving friends and family would be sick of hearing about the World Cup.

I've pondered at some length whether there is there something more deep-rooted beneath my superficial dislike of the England team.  Is it my uncomfortable leftie embarrassment at our colonial past?  Or my middle class distaste at the over-enthusiasm of English fans, fuelled by my peculiarly British aversion to boastfulness?  My love of an underdog?  My association of the English flag with the far-right racism of the EDL?  The connotations of rampant nationalism that come with overt patriotism?

I think this year I’ve finally managed to pin down the answer.  It’s the sense of entitlement that the England football team carry with them.  The sense that they should be winning, because we invented the sport and because our players play for some of the best clubs in the world.  And we’ve had that entitlement for centuries.  We’ve been the best and the greatest and done pretty well out of it.  Half the players and managers giving interviews after their matches will be speaking our language.  And now, maybe it's someone else's turn.

So, for me, the World Cup is about sitting back, enjoying the spectacle and rooting for other countries; countries for whom winning even one game would mean so much more, in terms of healing, and pride, and giving their people hope.  And that’s why, for the next few weeks, I’ll be wearing blue.