From Moaners to Midfielders: The Curious Case of Women and Football

Back in the 1970s, in every British household, you could time Sunday lunch to the shriek of your mum saying, “Not bloody football again!” The only hat-trick most women recognised was the magical trifecta of moaning, tutting, and turning the telly off. Football was, to them, the equivalent of a second wife—silent, ever-present, and requiring constant attention.

I remember sitting cross-legged on the carpet, watching the grainy black-and-white glory of Match of the Day, only for Mum to burst in mid-Brian Moore commentary:

“Turn that off, it’s like watching ants chase a sugar cube! I’ve been slaving over a roast all day and all you care about is that round lump of leather and them overpaid toddlers chasing it around!”

Fast forward to the 2020s and you’d be forgiven for thinking you’d fallen into a parallel universe. Now, women are playing football, watching football, and discussing VAR like they invented the concept.

My niece recently said, “Uncle George, Lucy Bronze is a legend.” I thought Lucy Bronze was a make of handbag.

And what’s this? “The Lionesses are on!” says my sister—the very same woman who once tried to stuff a tea towel in Dad’s mouth for commentating over the Cup Final.

She now proudly wears an England top and shouts things like “She’s offside! She’s miles off!” as if she’s been quietly studying the offside rule in a yoga class.

Women and Football: What changed?

It’s as if a marketing wizard somewhere in a secret UEFA lab figured out the ultimate Trojan Horse:
“If you can’t stop women moaning about football, just give them their own team to moan for.”

Suddenly, women’s football is the “fastest growing sport,” fuelled by a mixture of equality, pride, and the very British habit of supporting the underdog—often ourselves. It’s no longer “ugh, football again.” It’s “We’re playing Sweden tonight, pass the hummus.”

Back in my day, girls thought “a winger” was someone who moaned too much and “a full-back” was just poor posture.

Now they’re analysing formations, discussing midfield pressing, and arguing whether Ellen White retired too soon.

The irony? Men are now the ones mumbling in the corner, saying things like, “Too much football on these days, isn’t there? Can’t turn the telly on without some cup or other.”

In a strange reversal of fates, Dad watches Call the Midwife while Mum’s down the pub in an England shirt shouting, “SEND HER OFF!”

And me? I’m just trying to keep up. I’ve got three TVs in the house now. One for Premier League, one for Women’s Super League, and one for repeats of Midsomer Murders—because let’s be honest, some things should never change.

So next time you hear a woman shouting at the screen, just remember: she’s not nagging about football anymore.

She’s just annoyed her team can’t keep possession in the final third.

Progress, my friend. Strange, beautiful progress.

What Do You Think?

Were you once a “football widow” now shouting for the Lionesses?
Do you still pretend to know what the offside rule is?
Or are you one of the confused blokes wondering when this all happened?

Drop a comment below — funny, nostalgic, or just mildly outraged.
We want to hear from you

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