Women's Football

As I sit here at my PC typing this the Women's Euro 2009 Final between England and Germany is being played and shown live on television. There is something desperately wrong with that opening sentence. To the pedant, it's not the possibly misplaced apostrophe after Women, but before 's', and, to the philistine, it's not the fact that I have associated women and football together in the same sentence. It's the fact that I'm not watching it, and have no intention of catching the highlights, and will probably choose the moment they show the goals on Sky Sports News later as the perfect time to stick the kettle on.

I have confused myself. It was never like this with Euro 2008 - I almost crashed my car racing home from work to catch games and lived on delivery food to ensure my time away from the couch was kept to a minimum. So what is it about women's football that leaves me cold and unenthusiastic.

As with any good tactical analysis, let's start at the back:

• Goalkeepers - I am yet to see an outstanding save from a female goalkeeper. I do not for a second doubt that many have been made, but that's not my point (otherwise I fall straight into ignoramus territory). My point is that I have not seen any. In any women's match I've watched there is a distinct lack of quality goalkeeping - poor handling, dodgy positioning, a reluctance to impose themselves within their box. When the last line of defence offers little confidence, it makes for a lottery rather than a game of football.
• Quality - There is clearly world-class talent on show outfield in women's football, but rarely do two evenly matched teams take the field against one another. The standard between the good and the not so good players, even within one team, can be appalling. Watching a top class man's game offers signifcant quality across the park - watching a top class women's game highlights the talented few exposing the many.
• Coverage - More important than either of the above is that I don't see or hear enough of women's football to care about it. On Football Focus at the weekend I'm confident that they will start with a review of the day's upcoming Premiership games, followed by a summary of the home nations' performances in the World Cup qualifiers, before eventually tagging on a story about how well the English team did to get to the final (I say this because I've just checked and the final score was 6-2 to Germany - dodgy goalkeeping, I expect!).

Until women's football gets closer to an even footing with the men's game, no one will take it seriously. Improving the quality and coverage go hand in hand - people will watch women's football if they have a female Messi, Gerrard or Eto'o to cheer for, but more will watch if there's a chance those players could be challenged, and even more if the games are pushed in front of their noses.

How it all began...

It all began with Lajos Detari.

For those of you instantly googling the name, Lajos Detari was a Hungarian midfielder whose popularity was it its not so dizzying height in the mid-80s. He played across central and eastern Europe and even won national Player Of The Year awards, thanks mainly to single-handedly leading Eintracht Frankfurt to the German Cup in 1988.

But it was in 1986 that Detari first came to my attention, and it was courtesy of my father. Hungary had qualified for the World Cup in Mexico and my Dad saw Hungary as dark horse contenders for the biggest football tournament on the planet.

In the weeks leading up to the Finals he would happily tell anyone who would listen to forget their Maradonas, their Platinis and their Zicos - Detari was the name that would be on everybody's lips once the tournament got underway.

Of course, he was wrong. Hungary were thumped 3-0 by Platini's France and Detari only really turned up in the final group game, scoring against Canada after both teams had been comfortably eliminated. But it was the value my father placed in being able to talk about someone that others had little knowledge of. This trivia was actually important to him; it made him feel knowledgeable, even if the knowledge had no real value.

That stuck with me instantly and the '86 World Cup became my specialist subject. I watched every second, memorised every result and scorer, and then used the information I gathered to muscle in on football conversations the next day. This knowledge was useful to a spindly and short 10 year old with a dream of being strong and fit enough to play for the first team. Knowing who scored all nine of the penalties in that tumultuous shoot-out between Brazil and France in the Quarter Finals meant I could befriend the first team, bringing me one step closer to actually being picked!

Of course, it would never impress girls, or teachers, or anyone who really mattered, but I didn't care - I was hooked. Here was something that won respect amongst those around me - a knowledge of football beyond the realm of the common schoolkid - and that's what I hope to bring to this blog.

With this in mind I will be amazed if anyone reads it, but I don't really care. I'll get a massive kick out of writing it and, in doing so, it will be something that always reminds me of my Dad - who is hopefully busy watching George Best playing three and in with Lev Yashin and Ferenc Puskas.