The Women’s World Cup has done something to me
I cannot stress enough that I don’t do sports. The sound of football players shouting puts me right back in high school PE where I’ve missed the ball or forgotten the rules and someone is about to yell at me. And yet, somehow, ever since the Lionesses stormed the Women’s Euros last year, I can’t stop watching women kicking balls.
It’s something to do with Mary Earps’ cool hands under pressure and Chloe Kelly ripping off her shirt when she scores a winning goal and my personal conviction that Sam Kerr and I would be best friends. But also it’s the sports movie narrative coming true in front of our eyes and I’ve let myself be swept up in it: a bunch of hot talented women, an absurd number of whom are queer, getting the recognition they always dreamed of.
Whole countries are breaking viewing records to show their love for their teams of girls and gays. People are calling Sam Kerr, a lesbian from my nowhere Australian hometown, the best women’s player in the world. I don’t have to know the offside rule to feel the power of a good story.
It helps that this sport comes with friendlier crowds in which I’m not afraid of getting my head kicked in, although my Aussie heart is still bruised after the Matildas went down to the Lionesses in the semifinal. It’s a big draw, knowing I won’t have to spend two hours listening to a horde of roaring men and suppressing my primal flight instinct. I watched the Lionesses play Brazil at Wembley Actual Stadium in April and it was essentially an 83,000 strong queer meetup.
To be clear, women’s football is not all gravy, what with so many teams still not getting paid and contending with abusive coaches and zero resources. This is just the beginning of the hype wave that we all hope will bring respect and money along with it.
Credit should really go to my girlfriend, the sporty one in the relationship, who refused to stop talking about it until I gave in. It’s like how for nine years I’ve been singing in a community choir, which I love so much but I also never thought I was good enough for anything else. But sometimes she and I have little jam sessions where we sing our favourite songs and she plays guitar and hypes me up, and then this week I tried out for an a capella group on a whim and I got in. It was in me the whole time and queerness was the thread that drew it out.
And not to be a sap, but it’s like how for decades I assumed I wasn’t really allowed to be bi and now it makes me so happy. Being yourself changes your life in big ways, of course it does, but it truly is the gift keeps on giving.
This weekend I’ll be cheering on the Matildas for the bronze medal and then the Lionesses in their final over brunch with my girlfriend and the girlies, and I can’t wait. Mary Earps, when you’re done saving goals, run my life please?
The Phase 