This is football fever like we’ve never seen before, writes John Palethorpe, following a whirlwind three days of games across Aotearoa.
As we disembark in Wellington way too early in the morning, I congratulate a Japanese fan on her team’s performance the night before. We’d both been in Dunedin for Japan’s game against Costa Rica – a comfortable and controlled 2-)0 win for the Nadeshiko (literally: “the personification of an idealised Japanese woman”). She nods, smiles and thanks me, then hands me a small red envelope containing a mizuhiki knot in red, white and blue.
It’s something unexpected and personal and kind, and completely out of the blue. But it is entirely fitting with the vibe of this Fifa Women’s World Cup. Every single supporter has embraced the tournament, whether they’ve travelled from overseas, picked their team through immigrant heritage, or just taken a chance on a game. People are embracing this wild, beautiful and diverse tournament for what it is: a celebration of women’s sport.
In Dunedin the day before, I met Dana from Canada. They’d just finished qualifying as a teacher and had a schedule of 15 World Cup games across Aotearoa and Australia. They’d begun planning their trip in July 2020, a month after Australia and New Zealand had won the bid to host the tournament. “Everything was shut down because of the pandemic, I had no idea if I was going to be able to finish my course, and needed something to look forward to.”
Canada is what you could call a developing football nation, where the sport is popular but not the national sport like it is in many countries. Because of that, the emerging men’s Canadian Premier League has small crowds, but also had the chance to create a different kind of fan culture from that normally associated with men’s game. As a queer dude, Dana loved the example set by the women’s game in its embrace of the queer community as foundational to its player and supporter culture. Given the success of the Olympic gold medal-winning Canadian women’s side, it is unsurprising they’re getting the first Canadian Pro Women’s League in 2025.
Something similar has happened here in Aotearoa, with the Wellington Phoenix’s Fever Zone and emerging separate Wāhinix supporters group. Women’s football provides a space for women and communities who feel like the men’s game in any format – rugby or football – isn’t a place for them. A place were casual homophobia, racism and misogyny is just one comment away from people who, up until that moment, were on the same team as you.
There are more women at these games, more than I’ve ever seen at men’s games in this country. Young, old, straight but especially gay – there are an awful lot of queer folk in Aotearoa who know that if they buy a ticket they’ve got a chance to see someone who shares their lived experiences perform to the highest sporting level on a global stage. A work colleague, Rebekah, told me that she felt an immense power at watching a game with her daughters and hearing a player with the same name as hers announced to cheers from the crowd. “That has never happened to me before. It made me think of how many times I’d heard men’s names announced but never women’s, never mine.”
In Te Whanganui-a-Tara for the USWNT vs Netherlands – a hotly anticipated rematch of the 2019 World Cup final – regular commuters are broken up by orange-clad fans and women dressed as the Statue of Liberty. Watching the fans through the window of Flamingo Joe’s, I realise something: every single one of us there, sipping drinks, watching as the Dutch dance and drum their way past the window, is queer. For many of our gang, it’s their first professional women’s sport game ever. Of the 10 at the table, eight are gay women.
It cannot be overstated how much the Fifa Women’s World Cup is a tournament for the girls, the gays, the thems and the theys. You have the most talented, athletic and high-profile out-and-proud lesbian and nonbinary people in the world competing in a sport which is fast-paced, nerve-jangling and completely and utterly captivating. Watching women compete at the highest level of their sport, and to do so completely on their own terms, is powerful and important on top of being entertaining.
Alice Soper hurricanes into the group with a sign reading “THEY’RE LESBIANS, STACEY” which prompts some curious looks from the tide of USA fans pouring along the waterfront. And yet, among all those fans are so many rainbow armbands, the same ones Fifa didn’t want the players to wear. The culture of women’s football might be gayer and less aggressive, but if there’s one thing that unites all supporters of football, it’s telling Fifa to get fucked when it tries to tell us what to do. Ali Riley’s fingernails showed the kind of solidarity the community appreciates when Fifa bans rainbow armbands for its own petty, bureaucratic sponsorship and television licensing fee reasons.
We walk to the stadium, through the amazing volunteers dressed in what my friend describes as “European Tour Lesbian” Adidas tracksuits. Even if you’re into football in New Zealand, the experience of a full stadium for a match completely changes what you can take from the game itself. The stadium fills towards kickoff, and a well-timed choice of playing Carly Rae Jepsen (“the gay national anthem”) immediately before the national anthems gets everyone warmed up. The roar of the crowd as the teams emerge, the slightly-too-loud anthems which drown out the thousands of fans singing their hearts out – the game hasn’t even started and yet we’re already pulled into the drama.
In the end, it’s a 1-1 draw, and everyone is satisfied. We’ve watched two of the best teams in the world go toe-to-toe, and nobody’s leaving the stadium carrying a loss. On the way out, we cheer some American fans with their rainbow armbands on, and then swiftly realise they’re the US equivalent of our group: a lot of lesbians and their queer male friends. Sometimes they’re Barbie and we’re just Ken, and that’s totally fine. We share tips on where to go when gay in Wellington, exchange hugs and high-fives and ensure that the refrain from all visiting supporters – “You Kiwis are just sooooo nice” – goes another round.
It’s 3pm on a Thursday and none of us have work tomorrow. While discussing possible outcomes for pool play at the bar, we spot former WNBA superstar Sue Bird – USWNT superstar Megan Rapinoe’s wife – walking past us and up the stairs. After some quiet enquiries, it turns out it’s the USWNT post-game event for family members and players. Naturally, we dare each other to crash the party, and succeed. Is this getting weird? It’s definitely getting weird.
There’s a photo booth sponsored by Visa which we pile into, getting our branded USWNT Players photo strips out. We get photos, drinks and fed before attempting to attend the 7.30pm game between Portugal and Vietnam in the Shed 6 fanzone. This proves to be a bridge too far for our party and exhausted, drunk and thrilled we head for pizza and an early night.
The next morning I’m on a flight back to Dunedin at 9am. Opposite me in the terminal are two members of the Italian coaching staff, in completely flawless team outfits and carrying Giorgio Armani luggage. They, like me, are on their way to check out the midday kickoff at the Dunedin Stadium between Argentina and South Africa. There are plenty of Banyana Banyana fans on the plane, the occasional Albiceleste fan among them. I’m sitting next to a lady from Atlanta, who’s on her way down to Otago for the wine country. As a recent migrant to the region, I spend the flight over a clear-skied South Island pointing out landmarks as we go and explaining how you simply have to have at least one cheese roll (preferably from The Good Oil).
I wonder what exactly Aotearoa will take from this tournament. There’s been some concern that low attendances in Dunedin and Hamilton somehow proves that we’re not ready to embrace football in the way other nations have, let alone embrace women’s football. But I don’t think that’s what this Fifa World Cup is about. It’s about the little girls with the facepaint at Wellington station on the way to see someone just like them play a professional sport. It’s about people from all over the world converging on our country and discovering some of the things that we love about this place, while sharing their passion and love for their team. It’s about all the women, straight or gay, whose group chats are buzzing with conversations about the Football Ferns, or following every game they can.
The only professional women’s team in the country, the Wellington Phoenix, embark on their third season later this year and they deserve all the love we can give them. So many women in Aotearoa have, for the second year running, seen world class women athletes perform on the biggest stage. It’s about seeing how beautiful this game can be, how different supporting your team can be when you thoroughly embrace it. The best bit? We haven’t even got to the knockout stage of the tournament yet. It’s not too late to join the party.