“Please have your tickets ready, and have a good night,” said the usher through his megaphone outside Sydney’s Stadium Australia before the final. “And go Spain.”
For that volunteer, and many millions of Australians, the 2023 World Cup was close to perfect. Perfect, for many, would have been the Australia captain, Sam Kerr – and not Spain’s Olga Carmona – lifting the trophy. But in this country football has been associated with failure, blunder or – worst of all – being ignored. This tournament was something else entirely.
So-called soccer is the football code more Australian children play than any other. Yet it remains on the outside looking in at the dominant winter competitions of Australian rules football and rugby league. And like elsewhere male athletes attract the bulk of sponsorship and eyeballs.
In this context, the 2023 World Cup was more revolution than evolution. It was a step change in the reordering of Australia’s priorities, in football and in women’s sport. Coming out of relative nowhere and inspiring a reaction that was barely fathomable a month ago.
The Fifa president, Gianni Infantino, dubbed it the “best and greatest and biggest” Women’s World Cup in history. On this occasion, it was hard to argue with him. An average of more than 30,000 fans attended each match. Only tournaments in the US in 1999 and China in 2007 have averaged higher. Close to 2 million tickets were sold – a record, and almost 500,000 more than initial targets.
About 400,000 people attended the Matildas’ seven matches, each one at capacity. Millions more would have gone if they could. Instead the country turned to live sites and televisions. The semi-final between Australia and England outrated the biggest television programmes since the modern ratings system was established in 2001. Bigger than Australian rules grand finals, and rugby league State of Origin matches. Bigger than either Master Chef or My Kitchen Rules. Bigger than Wimbledon tennis, the 2003 men’s Rugby World Cup final. Bigger than anything else the Commonwealth could cook up, even Harry and Meghan’s wedding.
There were reports of strong Matildas merchandise sales, then exhausted supplies. There was even outrage that Australia’s kit manufacturer was not selling Matildas goalkeeper strips. By the end of the tournament, thrift shops had wheeled out whatever green and gold they could.
Politicians leapt on to the Matildas bandwagon, from the bottom of Australia’s federation to the top. There were the local councillors offering up their parks for sites to watch the matches. There were the states, throwing money at women’s changing rooms. There was even talk of a public holiday if the Matildas could win the whole thing.
The one-upmanship ended at the prime minister. Anthony Albanese pledged $200m (£100m) for women’s facilities and equipment. It seemed like a win, engineered by Australia’s footballing heroes, who ended up a valiant fourth. But it was welcomed more with caution than pure enthusiasm.
The country has only recently recovered from a political pork barrel scandal under the guise of sport grants for a similar amount. In the fine print, the money was not all for football but rather women’s sport generally. And while it was a big number, on the same day it was announced it was gazumped by the $380m (£190m) the state of Victoria paid to get out of having to host the 2026 Commonwealth Games.
The government has promised the bulk of its investment will go to football, without giving a figure. Many wonder how the Matildas’ support will translate to local football competitions. The supposed commercial windfall for female athletes is yet to land. Ultimately – despite the heroics of Kerr’s team – Australian football’s future is not straightforward.
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During the tournament, the Australian women’s football competition the A-League Women rushed to announce a special women’s appreciation round to launch the coming season. But it could not use Melbourne’s best rectangular stadium because a monster truck event is scheduled for the week before.
Fifa’s pre-tournament edict to restrict player expression by prescribing armbands for generic causes attracted initial backlash, before opposition subsided. The prize money for the tournament – less than a third of the amount awarded at the men’s World Cup last year – prompted some consternation. Yet it did not temper the players’ eventual celebrations.
The Matildas have been proud to call for social change, in areas of Indigenous advancement, LGBTIQ+ representation and sex discrimination. On their key issues they offered a pre-tournament stance via social media. But they chose not to revive their agenda. A platform such as a home World Cup might never come again.
Instead – as it often does – football stole the show. And so on Sunday a pop star provided catchy pre-entertainment. A stadium filled mostly with neutrals enjoyed an entertaining contest. Spain prevailed, for the first time, triggering sparkling gold confetti and fireworks at full time.
A perfect tournament? Not quite, but certainly one offering hope. And for Australians, it did help that England did not win.
