As the daughter of a father, I have a message for all the dads out there: We have to stop the framing around this relationship in women’s sports. Hashtag girldad was cute for a while. It looked good on some T-shirts and in your Twitter profiles. For many of you, it was innocent enough, but the “father of daughters” concept has moved past annoyingly meaningless and into dangerously undermining women’s sports territory.
I used to joke that if I could open up a consulting business that warned male NWSL owners not to use their daughters as justification for investing in a team, I’d make enough to retire comfortably. The joke has lost all its humor over the past couple of years, though, as I’ve had a front-row seat to the reckoning in the NWSL over misconduct and abuse and how men with power use their daughters as shields.
It’s happening again right now in Spain. Embattled Spanish Football Federation (RFEF) president Luis Rubiales, currently suspended by FIFA, has used the women in his life — especially his daughters — in his defense.
He addressed them directly in his speech, in which he refused to resign after his actions at the World Cup final, including kissing Jenni Hermoso without consent.
“To my daughters, I say that today they have to learn a lesson, which is equality. You have to differentiate between the truth and lies, and I’m saying all the truth,” he said. “You (referring to his daughters) are feminists and not of the ‘false feminism’ that is out there. They don’t care about people. They’re preparing an execution to put a medal on themselves.”
A source told The Athletic last week that Rubiales directly appealed to Hermoso to appear next to him in a video apology “for the sake of (his) daughters.” In the end, he filmed it alone.
By Friday, Rubiales again decided to speak following a court decision that he felt cleared his name (he remains suspended by FIFA).
“This is not about gender,” he said via a statement. “This is about truth. The name of feminism should not be used to sink a man — or a woman — without a fair trial.”
While Rubiales left his daughters out of it this time, Friday’s apology was once again anything but. He, and so many others, are still missing the fundamental point. Yes, the kiss on the World Cup stage has already received so much attention, but at the heart of everything is still a cry for respect.
Nearly a year before Spain lifted the World Cup trophy, 15 players sent identical letters to their federation, refusing to play until structural changes were made to improve the lack of professionalism from the team’s technical staff. This reportedly included requesting the removal of head coach Jorge Vilda. Their concerns went largely unanswered.
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“We all want the same thing, that there be respect for our profession just as there has been for so many years in men’s football. We fight for it,” Alexia Putellas said in a television interview last week, saying it should not fall to players to demand better infrastructure and investment. “It’s clear that the unity between the players is the first step, and I will always defend that a female footballer is a footballer.”
#SeAcabó
It’s time for football to respond, not just in Spain but around the world. pic.twitter.com/vArdIHpIXv
— Sarah Gregorius (@sarah_grego) September 1, 2023
While the players have found solidarity over that message, too many others are missing it. Over the past week, as I’ve discussed what’s happening in Spain, I’ve gotten comments from men holding their daughters in their social media profile photos, telling me, “Everybody wants to be a victim,” and the nonconsensual act from Rubiales was a “peck of joy and happiness.”
Maybe your daughter won’t ever see that, but it sure makes me worry that if anything ever happens to her, she won’t feel comfortable coming to you to report it.
The troublesome language doesn’t end with Rubiales or his defenders on social media, though — not by a long shot. It goes all the way up to the top of the sport; FIFA president Gianni Infantino made headlines during the World Cup for the sheer absurdity of his speech at the women’s football convention held before the final in Sydney.
“We have to start treating men and women, or women and men, in the same way. And I say to all the women — and you know I have four daughters, so I have a few at home — I say to all the women that you have the power to change,” he said. “Pick the right battles. Pick the right fights. You have the power to change. You have the power to convince us men what we have to do and what we don’t have to do. You do it. Just do it.”
Just push the doors, Infantino told us. They are open at FIFA. While the global organization has done the bare minimum to suspend Rubiales, he is only one tiny piece of this puzzle.
In Infantino’s first public comments following the global pressure happening around Rubiales’ actions, Infantino hid behind the passive voice: “The well-deserved celebrations for these magnificent champions were spoiled by what happened after the final whistle,” he wrote. He did not name Rubiales or specify his actions.
“FIFA’s disciplinary bodies immediately assumed their responsibility and took the necessary actions,” he continued. “The disciplinary proceedings will continue their legitimate course.”
The World Cup final occurred on August 20; FIFA did not announce their suspension of Rubiales for another six days. Infantino’s post was published on August 31.
Rubiales stands alongside Infantino. (Photo by KARIM JAAFAR/)
The most frustrating thing is we keep having this same conversation about how word choices can be harmful or undermine the product. In the U.S., this conversation has usually been framed around the business case for women’s sports, that investing as “the father of daughters” reduces the sport to charity or inspiration porn.
Consider Steve Baldwin’s introduction as the new majority owner of the Washington Spirit in 2018. In an open letter to fans, he started with, “I come to the Washington Spirit as a father of two daughters, one that plays the game. So, yes, I am a soccer dad.” He called NWSL players “inspirational” and “role models that everyone can look up to and aspire to be.”
We know how this story ended. Being a “soccer dad” didn’t qualify him to be the owner of a NWSL team. You never hear a new owner starting his speech with, “As the father of sons.” Instead, they see the business case, the new community. We’re only just seeing this in women’s sports, mostly as the actual owners themselves diversify beyond white men.
Most egregiously, the “father of daughters” trope was used as a shield during the reckoning over misconduct and abuse in the league. In October 2022, New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy, a co-owner of Gotham FC (formerly Sky Blue FC), was asked about the Sally Yates report and his team’s employment of Christy Holly — who the report found to have sexually coerced a player at Racing Louisville and had “repeated and ongoing complaints” of verbal and emotional abuse at Sky Blue — at a press conference unrelated to the NWSL. Murphy said he was “disgusted” by what he had read, though he also acknowledged he had not yet read the entirety of Yates’ report, then said he hoped the NWSL would “get out ahead of this and will put reforms in place.”
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“I think we’re the longest owners in this league who got into it because of our daughter. We said to ourselves, ‘It makes no sense that little girls in America look up to the number one national women’s soccer team in the world, and there’s no real truly world-class professional league,’” Murphy said. “That’s why we got into it, and that’s why we’re going to stay in it.”
A reporter followed his answer, which concluded with a “salute” to the “incredibly brave women” who reported misconduct and abuse across the NWSL, asking him if Murphy, as a team owner, took any responsibility. Murphy’s response? “I’m going to stay with what I said.”
Compared to the solidarity we have seen worldwide for women’s football, male allies have been thin on the ground. But Andres Iniesta, the former Spain and Barcelona player, offered a direct rebuke, even though he still relied on the “father of daughters” framing.
“After what has happened this week, I would like to convey my sadness as a person, as the father of three daughters, as a husband, and as a footballer, in the face of the events that we are experiencing in our football and around the Spanish women’s team,” Iniesta said.
Después de lo que ha pasado esta semana me gustaría transmitir mi tristeza, como persona, como padre de tres hijas, como esposo y como futbolista, ante los acontecimientos que estamos viviendo en nuestro fútbol y alrededor de la selección española femenina.
Creo que no podemos… pic.twitter.com/DYASzKXQuU
— Andrés Iniesta (@andresiniesta8) August 27, 2023
He offers another way, if this language is unavoidable for whatever reason. Iniesta mentions being more than a father, a husband; he is a footballer — every part of his identity comes into play, and his daughters are not his sole justification for his outrage.
As the daughter of a father, I’m tired. Honestly. This is not a new question, but why did it take having daughters for you to care about women? To invest in women’s sports? To be disgusted over misconduct but take zero responsibility for your role in allowing it to happen time and time again?
These five little words — “as the father of daughters” — are a tiny but powerful reflection of the larger systemic issues facing women’s football. The governance of the sport was designed by and for men. It makes perfect sense that men can only relate to women’s football via their relationships with women rather than their independent entity. It’s why, for so long, women were told to “just be grateful” to play, to not ask for too much, to push on the right doors, and to pick the right fights.
None of these players chose this fight, but they’ll see it through to the end. Se acabó.
(Photo: Royal Spanish Football Federation/Getty Images)
