Women’s Football: “But No One Comes to Watch”

This week Professional Footballers Australia (PFA) released a 39-page document titled Ready for Takeoff.

It’s a long document.

But the message is simple.

Australian women’s football is at a Rubicon moment again and the A-League Women needs to relaunch as a fully professional competition, using the upcoming Women’s Asian Cup as the springboard.

Not someday.
Not slowly.
Now.

The paper makes one key argument that applies far beyond the A-League.

Progress is itself the product.

Women’s football will not grow through slogans or marketing.

It will grow when the sport embodies the advancement of women athletes.

That means standards.

And if that feels relevant nationally, it should feel even more relevant here in Tasmania.

Because in local football, standards aren’t theoretical.

They show up in the smallest details.

And they shape the whole experience.

Progress is not a vibe

There is a habit in sport of treating women’s football as something that can be marketed into importance.

A new logo.
A new campaign.
A few nice words.

But women’s football audiences can smell tokenism immediately.

Progress is not a vibe.

Progress is practical.

Progress looks like:

• the same training opportunities

• the same access to facilities

• the same seriousness in matchday presentation

• coaching standards that are not negotiable

• a league structure that matches the words “elite competition”

You cannot market your way out of low standards.

“But no one comes to watch”

I remember being in a Presidents meeting years ago discussing the idea of charging a gate for women’s football.

Someone said it casually, as if it was a final truth.

As if crowd numbers were the test women’s football had to pass before it deserved standards.

I didn’t see that as the point then.

I don’t see it as the point now.

Because in women’s football, crowds are not the starting point.

Standards are.

Crowds don’t come first

If you want people to treat something like a serious product, you have to treat it like a serious product first.

Women’s football doesn’t grow because someone waited patiently for the crowd numbers to justify investment.

It grows because leadership decided the product was worth backing.

This is the loop women’s football keeps getting trapped in.

Women’s football won’t draw crowds until it looks serious.
But it won’t be treated as serious until it draws crowds.

Standards are the circuit breaker.

The gate is not just money

At South Hobart, we charge a gate for women’s games.

Some people argue they shouldn’t have to pay.

They say they’ve never had to pay before.

But what that really reveals is this.

Women’s football has never been valued properly before.

A gate is not just a fundraiser.

It is a signal of value.

A gate says:

This match matters.
This competition matters.
This is elite sport in this state.

Set the standard.

Raise the bar.

Celebrate the product.

The quiet hypocrisy

There are people who sneak in before we are even set up, just so they don’t have to pay.

They will talk about supporting the women’s game.

Then they won’t hand over $12 at the gate.

To me, that is totally pathetic.

Not because the club needs their $12.

But because it exposes what they really believe women’s football is worth.

If you can’t pay $12 to watch women athletes competing at the top level of the state game, then your support is performance, not principle.

Classification drives standards

This conversation connects directly to one of the most important issues in Tasmanian women’s football.

Women have not always been classified and treated the same as men.

Here is the truth.

If the women are not classified as NPL, they are not treated as NPL.

Classification is not symbolic.

It is a lever.

It creates:

• minimum standards

• compliance expectations

• resourcing decisions

• matchday requirements

• seriousness in delivery

When standards are optional, women’s football becomes optional.

And optional always means last.

Women’s football cannot grow on leftovers

In community football, inequality rarely arrives as policy.

It arrives as default.

It shows up in hundreds of small decisions.

Later training times.
Smaller spaces.
No full-sized goals.
Facilities that are “good enough”.

Then months later, someone asks why more people aren’t watching.

That isn’t analysis.

That is sabotage.

Local football is nuanced

Sometimes inequity is not malicious.

Sometimes it is simply invisible.

I remember complaints coming to me as President that could have been fixed instantly if someone had spoken earlier.

No full-sized goals.
No access to a full field.

Sorted.

Often with one conversation.

But sometimes those concerns arrive months later.

And by then, you’re not fixing a problem.

You’re repairing trust.

Silence becomes a survival strategy for many women.

But silence is expensive.

Why FT hesitates to call it NPL

Calling the women’s competition NPL is not just a label change.

It changes everything.

NPL triggers standards.

Standards trigger consequences.

Once you attach the NPL badge, you are promising minimum expectations around facilities, training access, coaching quality, and matchday professionalism.

That means compliance.

And compliance means enforcement.

Enforcement means saying no.

Some clubs would not meet the standards.

So the governing body has to choose.

Lift standards and enforce them.

Or keep standards negotiable.

Negotiable standards allow everyone to say they support women’s football without ever having to prove it.

That is the blunt truth.

A fair note on volunteers

Volunteer clubs are stretched.

People are tired.

Raising standards does increase workload.

That is real.

But this is exactly why the governing body has to return to basics.

Not by charging clubs more each year.

But by actually helping them lift standards.

Practical support.

Clear templates.

Shared services.

A governing body that serves, not just administers and invoices.

“The way it has always been” is not an argument

This is the most common defence in football.

Someone challenges the standard.

The reply is tradition.

But tradition is not a reason.

It is a habit.

And women’s football has spent decades on the wrong end of convenience.

If Tasmanian football wants women’s football to grow, it must be built through standards.

Not excuses.

Progress is the product

The PFA paper is national.

But its logic applies everywhere.

Progress does not happen because we post the right graphic.

Progress happens when we act like women’s football matters.

On the field.
Off the field.
In facilities.
In standards.
In classification.

Women’s football is already good enough.

What’s missing is the will.