The old dinosaur Jeremy Clarkson claims he likes women’s football. In fact, he wrote a column about it for The Sunday Times, saying he found the Lionesses’ Euros final “exciting”. Great! Progress, right? Well… not quite. Because in the very same breath, he compares that excitement to what he imagines he'd feel watching cow racing in Sri Lanka. Yes, really. His exact words: “It was exciting – in the same way that I’d be excited if I were in Sri Lanka and the locals invited me to watch some cow racing.” It’s a thinly veiled pat on the head – the kind of backhanded compliment women in sport have heard for decades. Clarkson’s message is clear: well done, ladies – that was 120 minutes of fun, in a novelty sort of way. Not real football, of course. Just a quirky spectacle for a Sunday afternoon. And that, right there, is the problem. Because even when some men say they like women’s football, it’s often delivered with a side of snark, scepticism or condescension. It’s not quite "real". It’s not quite worthy. It’s the football equivalent of a try-hard indie band – enjoyable, but let’s not pretend it deserves top billing. That mindset – whether shouted from comment sections of newspapers or whispered into broadsheet columns – is why women’s football continues to be met with hostility. And it’s going to take far more than England’s back-to-back Euros win, a Downing Street visit and a street parade through the capital to convince men like Clarkson that women’s football is worthy of their attention. What are they waiting for – a Bank Holiday in the Lionesses’ honour? Nothing has stirred more bizarre, irrational rage in recent years than women playing football. Not climate change, not taxes, not even unfixed potholes. No – it’s women daring to lace up their boots and play the same sport men have dominated for over a century. The horror! Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m well aware there are thousands of men who have supported the Lionesses wholeheartedly through the Euros and through the trials and triumphs of women’s football. Those men exist. In fact, I live with two of them. But what’s also been impossible to ignore is the other group – a loud, seething contingent who foam at the mouth every time women’s football gets airtime. Let’s be honest. Some of these men don’t just dislike women’s football – they absolutely hate it. Viscerally and irrationally. As though women simply kicking a ball poses a threat to their very identity. Take Graham (real name, I believe), a caller I heard on LBC just the other day. He proudly declared – without a hint of irony – that he “can’t stand” women’s football. Not just that he doesn’t enjoy it. Not just that it’s not his thing. No, Graham hates it. He can’t watch it. He repeated several times that he can’t bear it being “shoved down our throats”. Shoved down our throats? Remind me… has there ever been a sport more relentlessly marketed, broadcast and worshipped than men’s football? We’ve had 24/7 coverage for decades, wall-to-wall analysis of Premier League games, live transfer updates (snore) that border on obsession. Somehow, that’s just normal. But when the BBC dares to air a Lionesses match? Now it’s an outrage. Another gem came from a man I came across on a well-known sports account on Instagram who insisted women’s football “isn’t the same sport” as men’s. It’s not as fast, not as powerful. Therefore, in his eyes, it’s a different game entirely. Let’s unpack that for a second. Two teams. Eleven players per side. A ball. A pitch. A goal at each end. A ref. Sounds like football to me. The only real difference? Some of the players have penises and some don’t. That’s not a different sport. That’s just biology. By this logic, does he tell his son – who maybe plays under-12s on a soggy Sunday morning – that his football isn’t real football because it lacks the speed and precision of the Champions League? Does he pat the kid on the head and say, “Sorry son, it’s just not the same sport”? Unlikely. The moment you challenge these men, even gently, the reaction is instant and vicious. I dared to comment on one of these videos, pointing out the obvious: it is the same sport. Cue the backlash. Within seconds, I saw replies accusing me of “rage bait”, clown emojis and insults I won’t repeat here. The vitriol is astonishing – and sadly familiar, if you’ve ever spoken up for women’s sport. But it begs the question: why does women’s football cause such a meltdown in some men? Why this sport in particular? Why not women’s tennis, where the stars earn millions and fill arenas? Why not rugby or cricket? Why this obsessive need to gatekeep football? The answer is as uncomfortable as it is obvious: misogyny. It’s pure, deep-seated and often subconscious. Men’s football is one of the last cultural arenas where some men feel untouchable. It’s “theirs”. The pub, the banter, the tribalism. And it seems when women enter that space (and excel in it), it rattles them to their core. Here’s the real kicker: the England Lionesses aren’t just playing football. They’re winning. They’re one of the most successful England teams this country has ever produced. While the men’s team continues to serve us heartbreak, hype and penalty shootout trauma, the Lionesses deliver us trophies and finals and pride. At last! And it’s not just what happens on the pitch. Off the field, the women are widely seen as more approachable, less egotistical and, frankly, better role models. They play as a team. They show humility. They connect with fans in a way that’s rare in the era of £100k-a-week Instagram stars. That success – both in results and in values – should be a source of national pride. But instead, a portion of the male population would rather die on the hill of “it’s just not the same” than cheer on the best England football team we’ve got. Before I get accused of having no facts to back up my point – let’s talk numbers for a minute. The Lionesses won the 2022 European Championship, something the men haven’t done. They’ve reached the World Cup finals. Their matches have sold out stadiums. They’ve inspired millions of young girls – and plenty of boys – to take up the sport. If you’re still arguing they don’t deserve the spotlight, then sorry, but you’ve left logic behind. It’s a sad day when a country finally gets to be world-class at something… and a significant chunk of its population responds by crossing its arms and pouting. Here’s the truth: no one’s asking you to like every pass or admire every tackle. But if you hate it – if it genuinely makes you angry to see women succeeding in sport – then maybe the problem isn’t the football. Maybe the problem is you.