Laddy culture put me off football – the Lionesses have made me love the game

Something about this team, this excitement, this drama has got me more hyped up over the alleged Beautiful Game than I have been since childhood.

During the semi-final match against Australia, I was watching the whole thing on my own.

I paced the room, cheering and clapping and groaning, nodding away with Alex Scott’s post-match analysis and saying ‘true, true, excellent point’ as if I had any expertise whatsoever.

I barely recognise myself, and I’m not the only one who’s finding it much easier to get invested in the women’s tournament than any of the men’s.

My social media timelines are mainly populated by women, queer men, and non-binary folks; and I’ve never seen so much football-related excitement on there in my life.

But while I know many women and queer people are big football fans on a more permanent basis, the predominantly ‘blokey’, laddy culture around it just never felt comfortable for me personally.

Combine that with the fact that barely any of my friends and family are remotely interested, it’s been easy to just… tune it all out.

Simply put, I’m much more at home with people who want to thoroughly dissect the Eurovision Song Contest than talk endlessly about the transfer window.

But now, during this women’s tournament? The whole culture around the sport feels… different. Kinder, less aggressive, and more accepting of everyone.

I feel like I could be in one of those stadiums with my husband and we’d feel significantly more comfortable than we would be at a regular men’s game.

And hey, if there’s one thing gays like me are going to do without fail, it’s become superfans of powerful women.

As my sister so succinctly put it in a family group chat: ‘Honestly it’s mad how much I love football as soon as you take out the penis.’

Now, full disclosure, I was really into it as a child. Football, I mean.

Would I have been as keen if it weren’t for the fact that almost all the males in my life were fanatics? Maybe, maybe not; but I definitely wasn’t faking it.

As I got older and became a teenager, though, that interest faded. My dad, an Aston Villa supporter, very generously splashed out on Villa Park season tickets for my brother and I, but over time I would start to enjoy the car journey (and the stop-off at McDonald’s) more than the match itself.

In the car, at least, I could read the unauthorised Steps book I’d bought from Tesco or play Pokémon Silver.

Though I wasn’t aware of my sexuality at that point, the manly-man atmosphere on matchdays didn’t feel especially comfortable, and I was starting to make friends in school who weren’t as bothered by it.

In the years since I’ve not been completely football-averse: I’ve got great memories of watching bits of big matches with friends who were as all-at-sea with it as I was.

I’ve joined in with ‘IT’S COMING HOME!’ memes; I’ve watched and enjoyed a season of Ted Lasso… In 2010 I even optimistically tweeted ‘I might consider getting back into football this season’ (alas).

But I have never independently watched a whole game from beginning to end, pored over various statistics, looked at what the players are saying on socials, and generally joined in with All The Banter like I currently am for the Lionesses.

I love the turns of phrase that commentators use when they’re excited (shout-out especially to one of Mary Earps’ goal kicks being described as a ‘meaty clearance’).

And I love the unbearably tense, watch-through-your-fingers moments, too. That penalty shootout against Nigeria? Scripted thrillers could never!

Whatever happens in the final against Spain, Sarina Wiegman’s squad has – like last year’s Euros victory – raised the profile of the women’s game, and brought people along for the ride who would never normally think football fandom was for them.

Maybe… and bear with me here… this sport isn’t so bad after all…?