I’m Not Here for the Football!

I should probably admit something at this point- you’ve probably guessed by the title; I’m not actually that bothered about football, like, not at all!

I don’t dislike football, not in the same way as I really don’t like boxing. When it comes to watching England play, whether it’s the Euros or the World Cup, I can guarantee my friends and I will see at least one game together. I’m never there solely for the football; it’s for getting together with my tipsy tribe!

There is something special about it, isn’t there?

The sense of unity, the way people come together, the joint hope for it to be our team that brings it home this year. Whether it’s in a village pub, a neighbour’s garden or in your own living room, sharing that moment with others is fun, even in the street with strangers, just exchanging a knowing look with someone because you both care about the same result.

For a little while, things feel shared in a way that everyday life often doesn’t allow.

I like that part of it. The togetherness, the excitement, the sense that people are connected, even if only briefly, and perhaps that is why the contrast feels so stark in the work I do. While so many are experiencing that feeling of connection, I’m very aware that others are experiencing the complete opposite: isolation, fear, tension behind closed doors. It does not take away from the joy people feel, and I wouldn’t want it to, but it does sit alongside it, quietly, as a reminder that not everyone’s World Cup experience looks or feels the same.

Just to put into a bit of perspective. Research shows incidents of domestic abuse rise by 38% when England loses, increase by 26% when they win, and remain 11% higher the following day, regardless of the result. Office For National Statistics

When I sit and think about it, I have lived through thirteen World Cups! I shudder at the thought of that, mainly because I’m a forty-something who still thinks she’s a 20-something.

I can remember glimpses of earlier World Cups, Gazza crying at the 1990 semi-final for one, but not really the matches themselves. I can remember what the atmosphere felt like, everyone in football shirts and the flags draped everywhere. Back then, I saw it in the way most people do, but now I know that alongside every tournament I have lived through, there will have been homes where the experience was hugely different.

Homes where the tension wasn’t just about the score and where the final whistle did not bring relief, just anxiety and dread.

It is only later, through the work I do, promoting awareness of rural domestic abuse, that I can see that from the outside, rural life is often imagined as quiet and peaceful, and in many ways it is, but it can also be isolating in ways people don’t always realise. If you are living in a small village, it can feel impossible to speak out, as everyone knows each other. There is a real fear of being judged, talked about, or of not being believed at all. Imagine living miles from the nearest support service, no reliable transport, no easy way to leave, and sometimes not even a private moment to make a phone call safely.

During something like the World Cup, that isolation can feel so much heavier. The rest of the community is coming together, celebrating side by side. Meanwhile, someone else in that same village may be feeling completely alone.

There’s still a tendency to minimise what happens during events like the World Cup. To dismiss it as “just the drink” or say that “tempers run high” but that kind of thinking that can be dangerous; it brushes aside behaviour that should never be acceptable.

It’s important to say that domestic abuse isn’t caused by football, but events like the World Cup can create conditions where existing abuse escalates, and when we don’t talk about it, it remains hidden.

For many, the impact lingers, the anxiety builds up, and then there’s the aftermath, whether that’s physical harm, emotional distress or the exhaustion of having endured it. Children are part of this too; they hear more than we think; they feel the tension even when it’s not spoken aloud. These moments and memories stay with people far longer than any game that was won or lost.

So, as another World Cup comes around, I find myself holding two truths at once. It can be a time of connection, excitement and shared joy and I genuinely believe that matters. I also know that for some, it is a time of increased risk. So, if you are celebrating this year’s World Cup, enjoy being part of that togetherness, but also please be aware, notice what is happening around you and if you’re worried about someone ask questions, be an ‘ally’.

I understand that being an ally can feel uncomfortable, especially if you do not feel it’s safe for you to ‘step in’ in the moment. So, what should you do?

• You can report abusive behaviour to the police by calling 101 or making an online report.
• You can also find details of your local police force if you want to report it to them in person.
• If you think someone’s life is in immediate danger, call 999. If it’s unsafe to speak, you can then press 55 and you’ll be transferred to a police call handler trained to deal with ‘silent calls’.

The most important thing is don’t turn a blind eye because that’s easier. Remember that this important event can also be a powerful way to raise awareness about domestic abuse. So, as well as supporting our team, let’s not forget the victims and survivors, it’s time to give domestic abuse the red card.