The final will be played in Australia but New Zealand got more than we could have hoped for out of this world cup. Here are some of our favourite moments.

New Zealand has (co-)hosted a lifetime’s worth of World Cups over the last 12 years. Others may have produced greater individual moments (Kane Williamson and Grant Elliot’s match-winning sixes at the Cricket World Cup; the men’s and women’s Rugby World Cup finals), but I think this has easily been the best overall. 

Only the 2011 men’s Rugby World Cup had a higher average attendance in New Zealand – 30,000 compared to 25,000 for the WWC – which is remarkable when you consider the home team didn’t make it beyond the first round at this tournament (and Eden Park had 15,000 fewer seats than in 2011). It also can’t be overstated how many unappealing group stage matchups and weird kickoff times we had, especially in Hamilton and Dunedin – the 10,000 who turned up in on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of winter in Hamilton to watch Norway and Switzerland play out a torturous 0-0 draw stick in the mind as particularly heroic.

Going into this World Cup regrettably ignorant of the women’s football landscape has if anything only made it more magical for me. It feels like a throwback to the pre-internet days when World Cups were our introduction to the new generation of stars and a rare chance to see legendary players we’d only ever heard about. Incredible to think that a month ago I didn’t know who Salma Paralluelo, Linda Caicedo or Mary Fowler were; even more incredible to think that I can now watch a WSL or Women’s Champions League match and recognise a handful of the players from the World Cup – the exact same gateway that got me into men’s football in the 1990s. / Calum Henderson

For most of my life as a sports fan, I’ve gone to the game before the marketed event. That’s typically when the women’s matches I want to watch are being played. So I can’t tell you what a thrill it was to be joined on the windswept Wellington concourse, insulated by tens of thousands of people, all walking up at the same time, excited to watch the same thing. You know when something has been normalised when you can drop the modifier. And for the last four glorious weeks, I could just say “football” and everyone knew what I was talking about. 

This World Cup proved that last year wasn’t a fluke. The first 10 matches played here tracked at 97% of the attendance of the first 10 matches of the 2011 Rugby World Cup. We can finally discard the old broken record of “who cares about women’s?”  I do, along with another 200,000+ Wellingtonians. / Alice Soper

A mediocre run-in for the Football Ferns, reports of dismal ticket sales and most of all the clearly cursed “Unity Beat” did not augur well, but all fears of a shithouse World Cup in New Zealand evaporated within seconds of the opening kickoff. In fact it was the very opposite of shithouse, whatever that is (a bliss palace?). In every centre, the crowds were engaged, convivial and really big – more than 700,000 through the turnstiles in Aotearoa is incredible. And that matched the quality of the football: a joy to watch. A watershed moment in more ways than one, and very generous of us to let Australia host the final. ¡Vamos, España! / Toby Manhire

I last engaged with a Fifa World Cup in 2014 when I made a giant paper-mâché “hand of god” for a competition at work and somehow did not win. A dormant spirit of supporting teams for fun has been roused by this world cup. I’ve followed the fortunes of four teams over the tournament for reasons both fickle and heartfelt. It was gutting to see the Ferns knocked out of the tournament early, but it’s also opened the country up to supporting a roster of teams on a week-to-week basis. Never before have I felt so embraced as a fairweather fan. Never before has a sport felt so accessible. Rounding out my application for amateur sports commentator of the year is my observation that watching football is actually good! I’ve been charmed by absolute basics like ball visibility and speed and won over by the excitement of three goals in nine minutes. With apologies to my mainly male friends who’ve tried to convince me of the merits of the English Premier League for years, it is only now that I think I finally understand the beautiful game. / Anna Rawhiti-Connell

A senior football world cup in New Zealand? Yay! No games in Ōtautahi where I live? Boo! It was obviously necessary to save up my coins and right this wrong with a nine-hour return drive to Ōtepoti. Nine very dull hours in my very orange Toyota Aqua which were 100% worth it. In the Dunedin Town Hall I watched octogenerians and pre-adolescents dancing together to the sounds of Ladi6 and the Topp Twins (who hilariously couldn’t remember if we were playing Switzerland or Sweden but that’s pretty much beside the point anyway). As the game drew close, the Octagon swelled with a brilliant mixture of families, students, overseas visitors, and a few local football hardouts. It was awesome. No malice, just universal joy and excitement. The walk to the stadium included asking for directions from a young family of four, and being pulled into a selfie with a medium-sized group of neo-scarfies. Great stuff! And my god though how about those Football Ferns!? Watching our national team playing football in a FOOTBALL WORLD CUP in our own country?! How good!? Sure, a win would have been nice, but the next day I was still so elated from the experience that I didn’t even feel the need to cheer up my drive home with a steam-punk cheese scone in Oamaru.

Compared to the little snatches of football heaven I witnessed in Ōtepoti, the city I live in felt oblivious to the fact that one of the biggest sporting events in the world has been unfolding next door! Lame! A genuine shame and a missed opportunity. It would have been a lot easier to convince some of the boys I teach that woman’s sport is not “sucky” and is not “just way more bad” (tragic and genuine quotes from our nation’s red and black rugby heartland). And selfishly, I would have loved to have been able to see more live games. Still, watching international football on tele at a reasonable hour is a rare treat. I enjoyed increasing the dent in our left-hand couch cushion giving my cat a few accidental scares via involuntary guttural yaps brought on by little miracles authored by Hannah Wilkinson, Salma Paralluelo, and (most recently) Sam Kerr. 

Honestly, I feel like I’m still buzzing from my weekend in the midst of football fever and still high from the golden post-match stroll amid the happy throng down George street. Unforgettable stuff for me. / Joseph Harper

Six months after the surprising (compared to pre-tournament predictions) success of the women’s rugby world cup last year, it felt like the New Zealand public embracing women’s sport was a distant memory. And I feared that without tournament favourites (the Football Ferns weren’t expected to do well at all), this huge global tournament would somehow fizzle under our lethargic national fandom. But instead, the Ferns set the stage beautifully with a stunning win in the opening match and suddenly everyone was on board. Perhaps the enthusiasm may have taken a little longer to build if they hadn’t won, but it still would have ended with sell-out crowds at Eden Park for the quarter and semi final matches. Walking into Eden Park on Tuesday night I was once again weepy at the sight of so many people supporting women’s sport. I can’t wait until it’s not such an emotional surprise every time, but in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the feeling.  / Madeleine Chapman

The Football Ferns exited far sooner than their fans wanted – but the opening match win was more than just a spark of hope. It also signified the hopeful end of people proudly declaring that “Actually, the All Whites were the only team that went unbeaten in the 2010 FIFA world cup,” in place of the much more impressive feat that the Football Ferns have now won a world cup game – one against a previous champion team. It may not be a podium finish, but it’s good enough for me. / Alice Webb-Liddall