Here in the UK the Women's Football Association has set up its own professional league. This is quite a landmark for Women's Football. As a mark of how far they have come, when I used to watch Watford back in the mid 1960s when I was in my teens (what better place to meet boys than in a packed football stadium?) the ground at Vicarage Road had three gates - Men, Boys and Old-Age Pensioners. We girls had to toss up betwen going in as boys (two bob) or Old-Age Pensioners (one-and-six). There were so few of us that the gate-keepers weren't much bothered which and there were no 'facilities' barring a corner fenced off with a bit of corrugated iron which was strictly for those who stand up to pee and were none too fussy about it.
At the time I wrote the following little ditty about the plight of women in football at the time. At that time Watford played in Black and Gold. They only added the red stripes post Elton John. For those who do not know Watford are also known as The Hornets (because of the black and gold strip). The Rookery End is where the true fans congregate. It has often been remarked that Cricket is a very literary game - lots of writers have been inspired by it - and P.G. Wodehouse wrote very memorably about golf but football is rarely touched on in literature. This poem may explain why.
or
Give a girl a sporting chance
There is a tale I've not yet told
Of a friend of mine called Sadie
Who played for Watford (Black and Gold)
Although she was a lady
With bottom bouncing in the breeze
She wiggled down the wing
The sunlight glinting on her knees
Her socks tied up with string
In extra time she was sublime
In vain reporters quibble
An offside law should stop her score
You should have seen her dribble
A Hornet true to four four two
Queen of the Rookery
When sweeper-up she won the cup
v. Liverpool FC
But sad to say it came about
While trying to spend a penny
She ran for the ladies when caught out
And found there wasn't any.
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