Woke up thinking about this little girl, and the millions like her, who grew up watching a game that had no place for her in it. Aside from selling the Bovril and dolling out scotch pies on a Saturday afternoon, the beautiful game was unmistakably, a man’s one that entertained women on the terraces (like a weird novelty act) but not on the pitch. My dad lifted me over turnstiles at football parks all over Scotland because he knew it was where I wanted to be. I was rarely happier than with a packet of raisin Poppets and a thrilling local derby to watch (where are you Falkirk?). He would have got such a kick out of last night’s game because whatever team you root for that was such a WIN. @lionesses #FundWomenDoingStuff