TAK it fae me – ah’m as woke as the next fella, which is tae say ah think ah ken awthin aboot awthin at aw times. Sae when ah say that ah’ve enjoyed this Wimmen’s Warld Cup mair than ony fitba tournament in lívin memory, ah dinnae want ye tae think it’s jist a bit o hipster bravado. In every wey that maitters – drama, quality, human interest, joy – the 2019 Warld Cup has left its 2018 equivalent staunin.
Weel, ah say that, but then ah didnae watch ony o the 2018 Warld Cup. No wan meenit o it. An it’ll be the same again in 2022. Ah dinnae think it means awfy muckle tae caw Fifa a corrupt oligarchy ludged deep in the pootches o ile-rich, quasi-totalitarian gangsters if ye’re still gonnae tune intae Russia v Saudi Arabia onywey.
Mind, it’s a lot easier tae staun on principles aboot a Warld Cup when Scotland arenae playin in it … An like mony fowk, ah dout ah’d hae gien the 2019 edition a body-swerve anaw if it hadnae been for the quines in the dark blue taps. Which would hae been wan hell o a scunner, syne ah’d hae missed oot on the anely thing in a god-awfy month that’s gied us any reason at aw tae hae howp for the future o humanity …
An there’s been muckle fae this Scotland team tae be howpfu aboot. But wan o the moments that’ll really bide wi me wis hearin Steven Thompson on the BBC talkin aboot whit oor lassies needed tae dae in the second hauf. No acause it wis a revelation tae hear a male former pro spraffin aboot the wimmen’s gemme (although it wis) but acause, when Thompson talked aboot the Scotland Wimmen’s team, he referred tae them as “we”.
Ah dinnae want tae mak oot that the story o this Warld Cup has been whit menfowk had tae say aboot it. But we bide in a warld whaur masculinity is mainstream an femininity is niche, whaur the first Ghostbusters is mass entertainment but the reboot is a chick-flick. Whaur the notion o askin a man tae empathise wi a wumman, never mind tae actually identify wi wan, is an affront tae the verra concept o civil richts. Whaur it’s eeksy-peeksy whether or no a government mínister wha jist assaulted a wumman should be alloued tae laugh it aff an get straicht back tae rinnin the kintrae aff a cliff-edge.
Sae ah’ll no apologise that … Naw, actually, ah tak that back. Ah AM sorry that the moment ah’ll tak awa fae this Warld Cup willnae be Claire Emslie takkin the back oot the England net, or Erin Cuthbert rampagin throu the Argentine defence like they were her wee brither’s pals. Ah AM sorry that the idea that wimmen are “us” an no “them” is sae absent fae oor national discoorse that it shocks ye afresh ilka time ye hear it. An ah AM sorry that ah’ve been ower busy girnin aboot Alex McLeish this past weel while-o tae realise that ither national teams were available.
The wimmen’s gemme is technically different fae the men’s, aye. Coorse, in the auld days, afore globalisation turned men’s fitba intae a homogenous guddle o identikit teams playin oot o modular cubicles, it wis pairt o the appeal o the gemme that ony eleven fowk ye picked aff the planet would hae awfy different ideas aboot how tae play fitba than ony ither eleven. Sae it’s been a fair tonic tae watch a Scotland team that disnae jist play like a (warse) version o ilka ither team in the kent galaxy, a Scotland team wi their ain ideas aboot fitba, a Scotland team free o received wisdoms aboot whit is an isnae duin in “the modern gemme”.
But there’s mair tae fitba than whit happens on the pitch. Jist ask the money-launderers an match-fixers that hae turnt the men’s gemme intae a grim morass o cynicism an greed. An whit naebody watchin oor lassies can be blind tae is how devoid they are o awthin that maks ye want tae gie up on men’s fitba awthegither. How free frae aw selfishness an ego, how little inclined tae the dark airts o divin or hackin or blatant gamesmanship. How… weel … NICE.
There’s been a lot o weel-meanin chat awready aboot how tae capitalise on this success, tae heeze up the profile o the wimmen’s gemme tae match the men’s. But we shouldnae be haverin awa aboot makkin wimmen’s fitba the same as men’s. We should be wirkin oor bahookies aff tae stop sic a thing fae ever happenin.
Richt eneuch, there are things that need tae be addressed pronto, Tonto. It needs tae be makkit a lot easier for the generation o lassies watchin this Warld Cup on the telly tae play in it theirsels in eight or twelve or sixteen years’ time. Pairt o that is aboot biggin up the coachin an playin infrastructure o the wimmen’s gemme in Scotland. Pairt o it is aboot makkin it viable for a thirteen-year-auld lassie tae tell their careers adviser that they want tae be a professional fitba player. Aw o it is aboot money.
We ken that men’s fitba noo is little mair than a cautionary fable on the theme o avarice. Awthin that’s wrang wi the gemme nooadays cams doon tae whit some fowk are willin tae dae tae sneck up a bawbee or twa, or whit they’re willin tae owerluik in chasin wan doon. An as the wimmen’s gemme continues its high-wire act atween whaur it’s been an whaur it’s gawin, we’ve aw got a stake in how it pans oot.
Imagine an Auld Firm derby devoid o sectarianism, an England team wioot the skinheids an the “Twa Warld Wars an Wan Warld Cup” slavers, a global tournament that isnae jist a comin-oot pairty for racist regimes an multinational mobsters. A gemme that spreids joy an brings us thegither, raither as feedin the monsters that keep us aw apairt. A sport that, forby aw that, Scotland are actually GUID at. Weel, either we can spend billions o pounds we dinnae hiv tryin tae mak aw that happen. Or we can open oor een tae whit’s starin us richt in the puss.
It’s no up tae oor lassies tae save us fae oorsels – shouldnae be, onywey. We cannae jist drap the guddle we’ve makkit o oor national gemme in their lap an expect them tae unfankle it aw. Ye cannae mak clart clean. An oor wimmen dinnae need tae. They’re spang-new as it is. It’s whit maks them oor real national team. They’re due a fresh stairt. An when ah say they, ah mean we.
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