There's something special happening across Australia every weekend… Women are showing up. 

Over 4 million women now play organised sport in Australia - and I’m happy to be one of them. Every Saturday, much to the anguish of my family and amusement of my colleagues who see me arrive Monday with a fresh injury, I play rugby union. In a shameless plug, we’re reigning Sydney Rugby Women's Champions.

Being part of this community is both humbling and eye-opening. Because the opportunity for brands, for investment, for anyone paying attention - is enormous. And almost nobody with money has noticed.

Women’s State of Origin is currently the most-watched rugby league game of the year. The “Matildas Effect” continues, with average attendance having risen more than 40% following the 2023 Women’s World Cup. Netball attendance grew 33% in 2024, the WNBL rose 13%, and women’s cricket participation is up 26% since 2019.

By almost any measure, women's grassroots sport is among the fastest-growing communities in the country - driven not by marketing campaigns or corporate mandates, but by genuine, organic love of the game. The community is there. So where are the brands?

It’s a man’s world.

Women's sport accounts for just 15% of total sports media coverage, with 8% sitting in prime time slots. Sponsorship and broadcast rights remain overwhelmingly skewed toward men's codes.

But it's not just the media, we’re looking at institutional indifference baked into the way women's sport has been treated for decades. Female athletes are described as "fatigued" and "vulnerable" where their male counterparts are "brilliant" and "gutsy." At the 2016 Rio Olympics, a BBC presenter called Andy Murray "the first person to win two Olympic gold medals in tennis" - forgetting Venus and Serena Williams had each won four.

The brands that could have stepped in largely haven't. The media that could have amplified it largely doesn’t. The infrastructure that could have supported it largely hasn't. And yet - Women's sport has been growing with one hand tied behind its back. Which begs the question: what does it look like when someone finally unties it?
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You throw like a girl.

There's an argument you'll hear often, usually buried in the comments of a Facebook post: "Women's sport just isn't at the same level." And honestly? In some cases, that's true. The "level of play" argument has long been used to justify underinvestment in women's sport. But what that argument tends to ignore is why.

It has the logic exactly backwards. You don't wait for the level to improve before you invest. The level improves because you invest.

Consider this…

The NRLW. When the women's competition was semi-professional, with players working full-time jobs alongside training and games, the product reflected those constraints. The moment the NRL started professionalising the competition - offering contracts that allowed women to train as full-time athletes - the change was undeniable. The skill level rose. The intensity rose. The spectacle rose. The crowds rose.

The Super W. Players are still juggling jobs, functioning under limited resources, playing to smaller audiences - not because the talent isn't there, but because the infrastructure isn't yet.

One competition shows you what's possible. The other shows you how much is still being left on the table.

Your Move.

The model works. The NRLW proved it. Fund the conditions, and the product follows. The demand is there. The audiences are growing. 

What's missing is investment at the foundational level - grassroots clubs, state competitions, development pathways. And that missing investment isn't just a problem for women's sport. It's an open door for the brands smart enough to walk through it.

Here's what makes women's sport communities different: they're not passive audiences. They are active, vocal, deeply loyal participants - players, parents, coaches and fans who notice who shows up for them. These are communities that have spent years feeling overlooked, fighting for main fields and decent timeslots and a fraction of the coverage their male counterparts take for granted. When a brand does show up - genuinely, not just as a logo on a banner - they remember it. They talk about it. They buy into it.

That reciprocity is not something you can manufacture in a men's sport sponsorship at any price point. The major codes are saturated, the audiences are claimed, and the sponsorship categories are locked up by brands who've held them for decades.

Women's sport is the opposite. The categories are wide open and the communities are hungry for partners who believe in them. And the brands that get in now - before it becomes obvious, won't just be sponsors. They'll be part of the story.

The brands that backed the Matildas before the 2023 World Cup weren’t just another logo. When 11.15 million Australians watched that semifinal - the most-watched television broadcast in Australian history - those brands were woven into a cultural moment that no amount of money could have bought after the fact.

That's what early looks like when it pays off. That's not a charity play, that's a positioning opportunity that doesn't come along very often.

The question isn't whether women's sport is worth backing. The question is whether your brand is smart enough to back it first.

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