I’ve never sat down and counted the number of football matches I’ve been to, but if I gave a rough estimate, I would say it’s around 1500.
Between the glamour of Wembley and the grit of Mansfield’s Field Mill, the distance to the Stadium Australia in Sydney and the proximity of my beloved home ground of Loftus Road—I’ve taken in sounds, smells, and sights from all sorts of stadiums.
I was brought up on men’s football, so I’m used to certain cultural norms going to games. I deliberately sit in the loudest section at QPR and have done for over 20 years. People swear (guilty), and we’re all there to have that unique collective experience that’s unlike anything else.
Sometimes, adjustments need to be made for different fans—family sections for those who might want to sit in areas with restrictions on alcohol or language and safe standing for those who want to be on their feet for 90 minutes.
There’s an acknowledgement of what to expect when you go to games. There has to be. When I was a kid, I loved going to the football because I got to express myself in a way I maybe couldn’t elsewhere. Scream, shout, hear words that I probably shouldn’t have heard … and then see how I could get away with using them myself.
As the women’s game has grown, I’ve seen a battle emerge between the unique men’s football experience and a projected fan culture that some say should exist in women’s football.
It has the young and exciting energy of the future
It happens in the stands and online. A few seasons ago, a friend and I were told off at Stamford Bridge for leaning forward too much during a game. Friends have been told off for standing up or being too loud.
The women’s game has become known and celebrated for its family-friendly atmosphere, but there is now an assumption that this is the only culture that should exist.
Over the past week, we’ve seen tweets, Instagram and LinkedIn posts discussing women’s football fan culture and what it should be. After a couple of incidents at Stamford Bridge during Chelsea’s game against Spurs at the weekend (mostly Chelsea fans singing ‘we hate Tottenham’), and one person being told off for swearing, the online discourse went into overdrive. A conflation of unacceptable abuse from fans and the perceived cultural norms of English football.
The discourse falls into the exact trap that women fans have been trying to escape from in the men’s game: It infantilises women’s football fans and reduces them to silent, passive cheerleaders. The idea that the ground is a social club for happy clappers is one that travels throughout all media surrounding the game.
But women’s football is not just a mouthpiece for relentless positivity; the fans care, have independent emotions, and have a voice, too.
We saw that most recently with anger from Arsenal Women fans around the performances and results under Jonas Eidevall. The morning after Chelsea beat Arsenal at the Emirates in mid-October, big white graffiti appeared near the stadium bellowing the phrase JONAS OUT. When Layth Yousif shared a photo online, it went viral.
It felt like a huge moment for women’s football. Fans had finally found their voice in a way that was previously considered the realm of men’s football. It was as loud and clear as an anti-Glazer protest—which, by the way, is something that fans of Manchester United Women have shown strong feelings towards, too.
It wasn’t the only creative fan activity during the weekend, either. Another fan brought a P45 to the Chelsea game, used Tipp-Ex to write Jonas Eidevall’s name on it, and shared it on Twitter.
I know that a smaller minority of women’s fans have felt that the two incidents are a sign a more hostile atmosphere could be entering the game. But I disagree. One of English football’s greatest assets is its voice, its humour, and its originality.
Arsenal fans were frustrated with the manager’s performance, and they communicated it like all football fans have done through the years.
The posters, the slogans and the narratives focus on women’s football as a family game, a safe space, and often a counter to the toxicity that we see in the men’s game. That is true. But women’s football is much more than a crèche. It is a safe space because it’s one of the most inclusive sports communities for LGBTQ+ people on the planet, and we should be proud of how that has organically happened.
One of English football’s greatest assets is its voice, its humour, and its originality
There shouldn’t be an assumption that fan culture in the men’s game is inherently bad. There is so much of it that should be celebrated but also so many elements of it that should rightly be questioned and eliminated, like the continued racism, homophobia, transphobia, and sexism.
A large number of the fans at women’s football are from Gen Z, so the fan voice of the game feels young, but in an exciting way—as it's the next generation shaping so much of the culture.
Different to the men’s game, match-going women’s football fans have broadly grown up on the internet. For the older crowd, myself included, this might have been Myspace and Bebo, then Tumblr. The younger fans are embedded in TikTok and Instagram.
It’s a culture that doesn’t take itself too seriously, will meme absolutely everything, and appreciates an inside joke.
Much like Kylian Mbappé’s “we will be there no matter what” line that is constantly used as a meme, that football fans want to have fun, as well as enjoy the sport as a life or death experience, Jurgen Klopp’s quote from 2022 is a prime example of women’s football fans taking a part of a narrative and subverting it for their own use.
“I love women’s football, it’s outstanding,” Klopp said.
It has become a famous phrase in women’s football lore, not just because it’s an endorsement from a legendary coach but because it represents so many of the iconic reflections that are great about the women’s game. The ‘They’re lesbians, Stacey’ response to someone talking about the friendship between Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis is another example of this.
Women’s football fan culture is unique. It’s like all the elements of fandom we see throughout culture, thrown together with the best bits plucked from music, gaming and comic books. There is a nerd-like thirst for knowledge and information, combined with the tight-knit community of a popstar ‘standom’, that can definitely creep into weird territory at times. Katie McCabe throwing the ball against Chloe Kelly’s head and the millions of online compilations that it created is the perfect example.
When Arsenal’s Kyra Cooney-Cross went to Wembley to watch her Australian teammate Charli Grant play for Tottenham in the Women’s FA Cup Final, she posted a picture on social media in full Spurs gear. This simply would not happen in the men’s game, and the chaotic moment was reposted by fans with plenty of memes, including Klopp’s quote.
Some fans were obviously a bit perturbed by Cooney-Cross wearing the merch of a north London rival, but a lot of the reaction was more along the lines of ‘only in women’s football’. But, it was also a sign that rivalries are alive and well in women's football, and it’s not just sunshine, rainbows and exhibition matches.
Social media does get toxic; it’s social media, after all, but it feels indicative of the communication channel rather than the culture of the women’s game itself.
Women’s football fan culture feels like it’s in such an exciting place. It’s taking all of the best bits from the men’s game, the rivalry, the passion, the originality, and blending into the inclusive space it’s created. When Chelsea fans are sticking “Sammy K's Blue and White Bastards” stickers around the concourse on a Champions League night at Stamford Bridge in honour of iconic striker Sam Kerr, they’re trying to spread a message and a moment.
It’s not just a mouthpiece for relentless positivity
There are fans who are understandably worried about women’s football becoming a copycat culture and not learning from the mistakes of the men’s game. I feel confident women’s football fan culture will resist because the community driving it, creating it and policing it is like nothing we’ve seen before.
It has the young and exciting energy of the future and is resistant to men’s football’s crusty forefathers. It feels fun and revolutionary.
The challenge now is not to shut out or shout down those who disagree within the game. We can all co-exist by bringing each other on the journey. We can swear, we can lean forward, we can sing, we can have rivalries, and all be safe at the same time. We can be inclusive and welcoming without being a crèche. As a great man once said, I love women’s football, it’s outstanding.
