Men who object to women's football should up their game

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 had found the Lionesses' Euros final "exciting". Great! Progress, right? Well... not quite.

- GEMMA ABBOTT

Because in the very same breath, he compared that excitement to what he imagines he'd feel watching cow racing: “Cows can jump over hedges. I know they can. I've seen them do it, and it's very funny. But imagine how joyous it would be if there were 34 of them doing it, at the same time.”

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 men say they like women's football, it's sometimes 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 in the tabloids, or whispered in 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 wins, 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!