Lionesses show they are the mane event

Last Sunday, England’s women did what their male counterparts haven’t managed since the days when televisions came in wooden boxes and you had to force a younger sibling to get up to change channels for you.

They won a trophy.

Even more remarkably, this was the second time they have lifted silverware in three years as they became back-to-back European Champions. All England fans should take a moment to let that sink in because it is a truly awesome achievement, doubly so when you consider the latest victory was achieved on foreign soil.

Their dramatic penalty shoot-out win over Spain capped off a frantic tournament for the Lionesses where they had to repeatedly come back from losing positions, win penalty shoot-outs and generally do all sorts of things that seem utterly beyond their counterparts with gentlemen’s appendages.

They were determined and resilient from start to finish, above and beyond the call of duty. Heck, key defender Lucy Bronze played the entire tournament with a fractured tibia in a story that instinctively made me think of Stuart Pearce. Then, when she smashed in the winning penalty in the semi-final, the likeness was complete.

The Lionesses were determined and resilient from start to finish, above and beyond the call of duty

And all that set against a backdrop of patriotism and pride. Every girl in every interview highlighted how proud they were to be English. When was the last time you heard a male England player say that?

Whatever you think of the women’s game, you can’t argue that it isn’t exciting and passionate. And yet, every single time women’s football hits a milestone, the same tedious chorus pipes up: “Yeah, but it’s not as quick, skilful or physical as the men’s game, is it?”

Well no. Obviously not. It’s also not played by men.

We don’t compare rugby league to rugby union, or darts to archery, just because they involve substantial similarities. Women’s football is its own sport, with its own tempo, quirks and heroes. So let’s stop doing the lazy side-by-side stuff and appreciate it for what it is: a thoroughly watchable sport that’s growing fast.

Constantly dragging it into the shadow of the men’s game helps no one. The Lionesses aren’t trying to be Harry Kane and co. They don’t need to be. They’ve built their own legacy. They’ve given England a winning team to celebrate in a way the men haven’t in decades.

Those things aren’t ‘great for women’s football’. They’re great, full stop.

England’s men could do worse than take notes. While they’ve spent years inventing new and exciting ways to bottle tournaments, the Lionesses have been busy becoming serial winners.

Is it a different sport? Absolutely. And thank goodness for that because at least England are good at this one...

The sad demise of the proud Owls

I know this puts me in a tiny minority of Sheffield United fans but I’ve never been one to revel in Sheffield Wednesday’s misery.

Most Blades would happily watch them tumble down the leagues forever but I’m just not wired like that. I like to see any Sheffield team do well, just so long as they don’t do better than my team. That’s where I draw the line.

Right now though, what’s going on at Hillsborough isn’t even funny. Wages unpaid, a stand closed for safety reasons, transfer embargoes stacking up, Danny Rohl walking out days before the season starts. This isn’t rivalry fodder; it’s pure car-crash TV.

Plenty of Blades I know are loving it – swapping memes, cracking jokes and teasing the life out of friends and colleagues from the ‘other side’ of the city. But I just can’t. This is still Sheffield. Watching one of the city’s clubs being run into the ground doesn’t feel like banter. It feels grim.

That certifiably insane Wednesday owner Dejphon Chansiri is demanding £100 million to sell, while the club crumbles is beyond parody. It’s like asking Ferrari money for a car with no wheels. Or a chassis.

You’ve got the ground in tatters, angry fans outside, staff heading for the exits. It’s an embarrassment for what was – and should still be – one of the proud names of English football.

Maybe it’s living in Malta that’s softened me. From 2,000 miles away, you stop caring about who’s laughing in the pub on Monday and start caring more about your city of birth as a whole. Or maybe it’s because my dad is an Owl, and I don’t want to see his team at rock bottom. Probably a combination of both.

At the end of the day, I still want United on top, obviously, but I’d rather Wednesday were right there alongside them (slightly below, actually) instead of becoming a national laughing stock.

I want them to get better. I want them to be stable and secure. I want them to have a decent team that wins more than it loses. I want them to head into derbies with belief, not fear.

Because the real joy of an intense local rivalry is when you beat a team that is either on par or ahead of you.

Kicking your neighbours while they are down – well, there’s no fun in that.

The canniest can of worms

Chelsea did it. Aston Villa did it. And now Everton have joined in. The trend of flogging your women’s team to yourself is really starting to catch on.

Perfectly legal, apparently, but let’s not dress it up as anything other than what it is: creative accounting to keep the profit and sustainability police off their backs.

Everton Women now sit under Roundhouse Capital Holdings, which also happens to own the men’s team. It’s basically the financial equivalent of shifting your wallet from one pocket to another and announcing you’ve had a pay rise.

The logic is simple enough. Rebrand an asset, stick an eye-watering valuation on it, sell it to yourself and magically create “profit” on paper to cover losses elsewhere. Chelsea started the trend, which Villa and Everton have jumped on. But this trio of book-jugglers won’t be the last.

The can of worms isn’t just open, it’s wriggling all over the place. Women’s football, once held up as the purer side of the sport, is now just another lever for clubs to pull when the numbers stop adding up.

E-mail: Jamescalvertmalta@gmail.com

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