Cherrypicker | Literature  Women footballers against all odds

The history of women’s football in Germany is full of pioneering women whose stories have long gone unnoticed. Torsten Körner met many of them for his new book, giving them a voice at last.

This July, the UEFA Women’s European Championship will take place in Switzerland, and of course the German national team will also be taking part. After all, the players of the German Football Association (DFB) are the record champions of the tournament, having won eight European titles in just eleven appearances. This summer, too, the team led by captain Giulia Gwinn is considered one of the favourites to win the tournament in the neighbouring country. They follow in the footsteps of successful women who once wore the German national jersey, but they also stand in the tradition of generations of female footballers who were denied this honour.

From 1955 to 1970, organised women’s football was officially banned across Germany. The ban was imposed by DFB officials who declared football a men’s domain and threatened clubs with sanctions if they allowed women’s teams to use their pitches. Yet many women played football regardless, defying all odds with seemingly boundless energy and personal sacrifice for what is often called "the most beautiful triviality in the world". Torsten Körner has paid tribute to them all in »Wir waren Heldinnen« (We were heroines).

Extraordinary life stories

In a series of vivid portraits, the book follows the protagonists of German women’s football from the post-war period onwards, often letting them speak for themselves. Körner conducted countless interviews. Many of the women he spoke to are now elderly, but still vividly recall being chased off football pitches as young girls or secretly playing in boys’ teams with forged player passes and short haircuts. Their personal stories form the heart of the book: often moving, sometimes humorous, and frequently told by colourful characters who speak their minds. The Ruhr region was an early stronghold of women’s football, and many of the protagonists come from this part of western Germany, known for its people’s blunt honesty.

These life stories are particularly compelling because they contrast so sharply with the typical biographies of today’s (male) professional players, who often follow a well-trodden path from youth academies to the multi-million dollar business of modern football. The women who pursued their sport during the ban mostly came from working-class backgrounds and held down full-time jobs. On weekends, they travelled across Germany by coach, playing multiple matches in a row and returning home in the early hours of Monday morning, only to head straight to work in factories and other workplaces without any sleep.

Their weekly journeys took them all over West Germany: Backnang, Buckenhof, Calw, Pfaffenhofen, Kornwestheim. In more than 70 towns and cities - many of them small or mid-sized - an unofficial selection of Germany’s best female players played over 150 “international matches“ against teams from across Europe during the 1950s and 60s. Despite the DFB’s threats, the host cities welcomed the attention these matches brought. Thousands of spectators often turned up. Women’s football was booming—whether the male officials liked it or not. The players, however, earned no money. At most, they received a small amount of pocket money for the exhausting tours, which didn’t even cover the cost of proper equipment. Yet they were repeatedly accused of turning football into a “spectacle“ or “show“ - by men who believed women belonged in the kitchen, not on the pitch.

Pioneers against their will

The history of women’s football in West Germany is closely tied to the broader social developments of the young Federal Republic. Women had to fight for equality not only in sport, but also in the workplace, politics, and other areas of life. It was only through the regressive restrictions imposed by male officials that football took on a political dimension for them. Many of the players interviewed say they simply wanted to enjoy their favourite pastime. It was the DFB’s ban, which criminalised their passion, that turned them into pioneers of emancipation.

The players were pioneers in many respects. Their close friendships with players from the Netherlands, who faced similar struggles with their own football association, are remarkable, especially given the tense relations between the two countries after the Second World War. Even during the 1988 men’s European Championship, hostility between the nations was still evident on and off the pitch. The early acceptance of lesbian teammates also speaks to a lived openness and inclusivity that is still sorely lacking in men’s professional football.

For the love of the game

As a male sports journalist, Körner also challenges a long-standing tradition of patriarchal reporting that has often treated women’s football with hostility. Time and again, he highlights how male-dominated media have sexualised, sensationalised, or ridiculed the women’s game for decades. Fortunately, he also includes the witty comebacks of the players, who had long grown used to such treatment. What unites them all - just like the players who will showcase their skills in sold-out Swiss stadiums this summer - is their love of the game, which they have never allowed anyone to take away from them.

July 2025