F1 dynamics were brilliantly dissected by Ben Gilbert and David Rosenthal in Acquired’s Spotify episode on Formula 1 (link is here). 

It is a four-hour listen, so not exactly light consumption but absolutely worth it for anyone interested in sport innovation and commercial growth.

As I listened, I kept drawing parallels with women’s sport: a space that is still, in many ways, a new commercial playground. Different product, different history, different economics, but some of the strategic lessons felt highly transferable.

Four hours is a lot, so below is my attempt to distil the main lessons I think emerging sports properties should take from it. 

Before getting into those lessons, it is worth grounding ourselves in a few numbers.

• The average F1 team now generates around $430 million in annual revenue, with roughly 60% coming from sponsorship. 

• The next largest revenue stream tends to come from Formula 1 distributions, including media-rights-related income, with additional revenues coming from merchandise, engines, garage tours and other ancillary lines.

• The introduction of the cost cap, set at $170 million, was a major turning point. Once it came in, teams moved much closer to breakeven — and in many cases into profitability — even after accounting for drivers, people costs and broader operating expenses. That changed the investment case materially. 

• Unsurprisingly, valuations followed: today, every F1 team is reportedly worth at least $1.5 billion, with several sitting far above that mark.

Then there is the destination model. Locations in Europe and the US that want to host an F1 race reportedly pay around $20 million per year, while newer destinations — particularly in the Middle East — can pay $40–50 million. And when Liberty acquired F1, one of the striking issues was how underdeveloped the broader commercial ecosystem still was: race organisers were sharing very little back with the league in terms of fan data, marketing collaboration or strategic insight.

That is what makes F1 such an interesting case study. This is not just a story of a successful sport. It is a story of a sports property that became much smarter about how it structures value, scales visibility and modernises monetisation.

For women’s sport, that should get our attention.

1. Visibility is not a marketing outcome. It is the starting point of the business model.

The first lesson is simple, but still too often ignored: without visibility, there is no serious commercial development.

No visibility means no sponsor scale.

No visibility means weak media value.

No visibility means limited fan conversion.

No visibility means constrained revenues almost everywhere else.

This is where I think some emerging properties still get the sequence wrong. They try to optimise monetisation before they have achieved enough relevance. They protect rights before they have built habit. They negotiate scarcity before they have created demand.

Formula 1’s recent history suggests the opposite approach.

One of Liberty Media’s smartest moves was to prioritise distribution, especially in the US. In 2018, ESPN reportedly received F1 rights for free, with the condition that all races would be broadcast. Commercially, that may have looked generous in the short term. Strategically, it was exactly right. The objective was not to maximise immediate income; it was to remove friction, increase reach, and establish presence in a market where the sport still had major upside. By 2022, ESPN was reportedly paying $80–90 million for a three-year deal.

That is the point. Visibility created leverage.

Women’s sport should take this seriously. Visibility is too often discussed as a nice-to-have, or worse, as a communications matter. It is not. It is a commercial precondition.

If a league, team or competition wants sponsorship growth, better distribution economics and a larger fan base, it first needs to solve discoverability. That may mean giving away more in the short term than feels comfortable. It may mean prioritising reach over control. It may mean designing content and partnerships that serve audience-building before they serve immediate monetisation.

But that is how stronger economics get built.

2. Modern fandom does not begin with the live product

This, to me, is one of the most important lessons in the whole F1 story.

Formula 1 has managed to build a very large population of people who consider themselves fans without necessarily watching races regularly. In a traditional sports logic, that might sound like a problem. In a modern media logic, it is actually one of the most powerful things about the property.

Because it tells us that fandom no longer starts only with live consumption. It starts with story, personality, access, identity and cultural relevance.

That is what Drive to Survive unlocked.

It did not simply market the sport better. It lowered the barrier to entry. It gave people a way in. It humanised drivers and teams. It transformed technical complexity into narrative. It created emotional hooks for people who may never have become fans by watching a two-hour race cold.

The numbers help explain the scale of that shift. Before Drive to Survive, around 500,000 Americans were watching F1 races. By 2024, the Miami Grand Prix drew 3.1 million US viewers. And arguably the more interesting number is not the one on race day, but the broader fan effect around it: millions of people now follow the sport through social content, team identities, driver narratives, fashion, brand partnerships and cultural affiliation, even when they are not watching every lap.

This is highly relevant to women’s sport.

Too many sports organisations still operate as if fandom starts at kick-off, tip-off or first whistle. That is an outdated assumption. For many audiences now, fandom starts much earlier and elsewhere: with a documentary, a short-form clip, a personality, a behind-the-scenes moment, a compelling point of view, a brand association, or simply a sense of connection to an athlete or team.

That is not secondary to the product. It is part of the product.

Women’s sport, in my view, has a real opportunity here. Not because live sport matters less — it absolutely matters — but because newer properties have more room to build fandom in more flexible ways. They are often less trapped by legacy packaging, legacy production and legacy assumptions about what a sports fan should look like.

The opportunity is not just to create viewers. It is to create affinity at scale.

3. The female fan opportunity is not theoretical. It is already here.

This is the third lesson, and perhaps the one the wider industry still underestimates most.

Formula 1’s recent growth has also been driven by audience broadening, particularly among women. That is not incidental. It is strategic.

For too long, the sports industry has treated women as an audience to “bring in,” as though the issue were a lack of interest. More often, the issue has been a lack of relevance in how sport was packaged, distributed and narrated.

F1 shifted that.

By becoming more human, more visible, more story-led and more culturally present, it broadened its appeal beyond its traditional base. Liberty itself has talked about moving away from the old “male, stale and pale” perception. Whatever exact percentage one uses, the bigger point is clear: women are not a side audience in sport. They are one of the biggest growth levers available.

And this is where women’s sport should think bigger, not smaller.

The goal should not simply be to inherit the old rules of sports fandom and hope for a fairer share. The goal should be to build with today’s fan behaviours in mind from the outset.

That means designing for connection, not just exposure.

It means treating athlete storytelling as a commercial asset, not a soft topic.

It means understanding that community can drive value.

It means building products, platforms and sponsor propositions that reflect how audiences — especially younger and female audiences — actually engage today.

This is one of the reasons I believe women’s sport is commercially more interesting than many still assume. It is not only a growth category because participation or visibility are rising. It is a growth category because it has a chance to be architected for the modern media and fan economy more natively than many legacy properties ever were.

That is not a branding observation. It is a business one.

Final thought

The reason Formula 1 is such a useful case study is not because women’s sport should copy it literally. Clearly it should not.

The value lies elsewhere: in showing what happens when a sports property stops relying only on the strength of its core product and starts thinking more intelligently about distribution, narrative, audience design and monetisation.

That is the real lesson.

Commercial growth does not come only from what happens on the field, the track or the court. It comes from how effectively a property builds relevance around the live product — and how intentionally it expands the number of people who can find a meaningful way into it.

F1 today reportedly sits on around 830 million fans globally, while still monetising each fan far below leagues like the NFL. That gap is not just a comparison point; it is a reminder that even highly successful properties can have huge upside when visibility and fandom are converted more effectively into revenue.

For women’s sport, this should be read as encouragement — and as a challenge.

The opportunity is not just to grow. It is to grow intelligently.

Not just to gain attention, but to structure it.

Not just to build audiences, but to monetise them in more modern ways.

(English version below)

Abbiamo visto tutti le scorciatoie narrative usate da alcuni media per raccontare alcune delle più grandi campionesse durante queste settimane olimpiche. Francesca Lollobrigida presentata come “la mamma”. Jutta Leerdam descritta tanto per l’immagine e per il nome del suo fidanzato quanto per le sue qualità tecniche.

Non è una novità.

Il linguaggio che descrive le donne atlete è spesso più gentile rispetto al passato, talvolta persino celebrativo, ma il riflesso rimane antico: prima l’emozione della competenza, prima la biografia della performance, prima la personalità del mestiere.

Due settimane fa ho avuto l’opportunità di assistere alla presentazione di uno studio che sposta questa conversazione dalle percezioni ai numeri. La ricerca, promossa da Fondazione Bracco insieme al Comitato Olimpico Internazionale e realizzata dall’Osservatorio di Pavia, è guidata da Monia Azzalini, che da anni analizza parità di genere, diversità e inclusione dentro e attraverso i media.

Ciò che rende questo lavoro particolarmente rilevante per chi opera nell’industria sportiva è la prospettiva temporale. Non si ferma al momento straordinario dei Giochi. Pone una domanda più difficile: 

che cosa accade dopo?

Durante i Giochi Olimpici di Parigi 2024, l’informazione televisiva italiana in prima serata ha raggiunto un equilibrio vicino alla parità. Il 51% delle notizie ha riguardato competizioni femminili, il 59% delle persone intervistate erano atlete e la quasi totalità dei servizi ha evitato stereotipi e linguaggi sessisti. Quando istituzioni, linee guida e attenzione editoriale convergono, una rappresentazione equa diventa assolutamente praticabile.

Poi i Giochi sono finiti.

Il monitoraggio è proseguito per un anno intero di informazione ordinaria, da ottobre 2024 a settembre 2025. I risultati? Su 2706 notizie sportive in prime time, il 75% ha riguardato uomini e solo il 13% donne.

Al centro di questo squilibrio c’è l’elemento più strutturale del sistema mediatico italiano: il calcio. Da solo assorbe il 40% della copertura. Dentro quello spazio, la presenza femminile vale appena il 2%.

Due percento.

Vale la pena fermarsi su questa cifra, soprattutto per chi lavora in sponsorship, diritti media, investimenti. Perché questo accade nonostante i risultati, nonostante le storie disponibili e ispiratrici, nonostante la nostra nazionale femminile abbia raggiunto la semifinale di UEFA Women’s Euro 2025: un passaggio che in molti altri mercati ha alimentato per mesi l’attenzione mainstream ed è stato un pilastro importante per la crescita del movimento del calcio femminile.

Il tema è che la performance, da sola, non riequilibra la visibilità quando il contesto culturale rimane invariato.

Ed è esattamente per questo che l’Italia rappresenta un caso “disperato” ma, se indirizzato nel modo corretto, può diventare un simbolo che va molto oltre lo sport.

In un Paese dove il calcio è identità, tradizione e rituale collettivo, con una connotazione fortemente "machista", trasformare il racconto è più difficile. Ma proprio per questo, quando accade, il suo significato supera lo sport. Diventa la prova che modelli culturali profondi possono evolvere. Che la modernizzazione non è cosmetica, ma sistemica. Che le calciatrici, proprio come ogni donna, possono ricoprire un ruolo "inaspettato" nella società.

Dal punto di vista economico, le conseguenze di questo shift mentale sono immediate. La visibilità mediatica influenza il valore commerciale, la percezione del rischio da parte degli sponsor, le aspettative degli investitori, l’immaginario delle giovani atlete. La visibilità è infrastruttura. Senza di essa, la crescita resta intermittente, legata ai picchi degli eventi e non alla normalità del calendario.

Ed è per questo che editori, giornalisti, influencer (e in fondo ciascuno di noi, ogni volta che pubblica o commenta) ha una responsabilità sociale che va ben oltre lo sport.

Fonte: Ricerca dell’Osservatorio di Pavia, promossa dal CIO e Fondazione Bracco

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(🇬🇧 English)

We have all seen the narrative shortcuts that resurfaced in the coverage of some of the greatest champions during these Olympic weeks. Francesca Lollobrigida introduced as “the mum.” Jutta Leerdam discussed as much for her image and the name of her boyfriend as for her technical qualities.

This is not new.

The language used to portray women in sport is often kinder than it once was, sometimes even celebratory. Yet the instinct remains familiar: emotion ahead of expertise, biography ahead of performance, personality ahead of profession.

Two weeks ago, I attended the presentation of a study that helps shift this conversation from perception to evidence. The research, promoted by Fondazione Bracco together with the International Olympic Committee and carried out by the Osservatorio di Pavia, is led by Monia Azzalini, who has long examined gender equality, diversity and inclusion in and through the media.

What makes this work especially relevant for those of us in the sports industry is its time perspective. It does not end with the exceptional moment of the Games. It asks a harder question:

what happens after?

During Paris 2024 Olympic Games, Italian prime-time television news came close to parity. 51% of stories focused on women’s events, 59% of interviewees were female athletes, and the overwhelming majority of coverage avoided stereotypes or sexist framing. When institutions, guidelines and editorial focus align, fair representation is not only possible — it becomes practical.

Then the Games ended.

Monitoring continued for a full year of everyday sports news, from October 2024 to September 2025. Out of 2,706 prime-time items, 75% concerned men and just 13% women.

At the centre of this imbalance sits the most structural force in the Italian media system: football. The sport alone accounts for 40% of all coverage. Within that space, women represent only 2%.

Two percent.

It is a figure worth sitting with, particularly if you work in sponsorship, media rights or investment. Because this happens despite results, despite compelling and available stories, despite the national team reaching the semi-finals of UEFA Women’s Euro 2025 — a milestone that in many countries fuelled mainstream visibility for months and became a cornerstone for the growth of the women’s game.

The reality is that performance alone does not rebalance attention when the cultural environment remains unchanged.

And that is exactly why Italy is such a critical — some might say desperate — test case. Yet, if addressed correctly, it can become a symbol far beyond sport.

In a country where football is identity, tradition and collective ritual, reshaping the narrative is harder. But for that very reason, when progress happens, its meaning transcends the field of play. It proves that deep cultural codes can evolve. That modernisation is not cosmetic, but systemic.

From an economic standpoint, the consequences are immediate. Media visibility affects commercial value, how sponsors evaluate risk, how investors assess potential, how young athletes imagine their future. Visibility is infrastructure. Without it, growth remains intermittent, tied to event-driven peaks rather than the normal rhythm of the calendar.

Which is why editors, journalists, influencers — and ultimately each of us whenever we publish or comment — have a social responsibility that extends far beyond sport.

Source: research by Osservatorio di Pavia, promoted by the International Olympic Committee and Fondazione Bracco.

In 2025, I spoke with over 90 leaders across the European sports ecosystem—from football and ice hockey to rugby and c. One question came up repeatedly: 

"Should we move our women's team to the main stadium for key matches?"

The logic seems sound: leverage the massive brand equity, infrastructure, and fanbase of the men's side to instantly boost the women's team. It’s the "brand spillover" theory.

But new research suggests that this automatic spillover is a myth.

An outstanding study by Julian Hadwiger, Sascha L. Schmidt, and Dominik Schreyer (published May 2024) analyzed over 1,500 matches across Germany, France, and Sweden. Their finding is a wake-up call for every "integrated" club (those operating both men's and women's teams) in Europe:

"Integrated women's football teams can attract larger crowds... but such demand synergies are not a given... Instead, women's football club executives must proactively unlock these synergies to avoid adverse effects."

Translation: You cannot just slap the men's crest on the women's jersey, open the big gates, and expect the stadium to fill up. In fact, without a deliberate strategy, the women's team can become overshadowed, treated as an "ancillary second team", leading to lower attendance than independent clubs with a distinct identity.

Integration is not a strategy. It is merely an opportunity. The difference between an empty stadium and a record-breaking crowd lies entirely in execution.

The "Match Day" Playbook: Moving from Integration to Activation

So, how do you "proactively unlock" these synergies? The research points to special relocations (hosting women's matches in the main men's stadium) as a key lever. But opening the big stadium is not enough. You must design the experience for the audience you have, not the audience you wish you had.

Based on my work advising clubs across Europe, here are three actionable principles for designing a high-performing women's match day in a men's stadium:

1. Design for the Customer You Have. Data consistently shows that the audience for women's football is demographically distinct: often younger, more female, and more family-oriented. Your operations must reflect this.

• One Quick Example: Do not force female fans to queue for the limited number of women's restrooms designed for a 90% male crowd. Temporarily re-label a block of men's restrooms to women's for the day. It’s a zero-cost operational tweak that signals respect and understanding—and massively improves the customer experience.

2. Turn "Dead Time" into Data Capture. Families arrive early. Use that time to build your CRM.

• One Quick Example: Partner with a local sponsor to provide value in exchange for data. A brilliant example? The LIDL x UEFA Women’s Euro 2025 partnership, which distributed 270,000 fruit cups in fan zones. Replicate this locally: partner with a regional fruit supplier to offer free healthy snacks to kids in exchange for a parent’s email address. You (and the partner) build a valuable database; the fans get a healthy family experience.

3. Create "Search Cost" Shortcuts. The study highlights that "reducing search costs" is a major driver of attendance. Fans of the men's team might come, but only if you remove every barrier.

• One Quick Example: Bundle the ticket. Do not ask a season ticket holder to go to a separate website to buy a women's ticket. Integrate the "add-on" directly into their existing mobile wallet or app. Make the decision automatic, not a conscious choice.

The Strategic Imperative

The era of "if we build it, they will come" is over. The data proves that being able to leverage on the brand equity of a men's team is a potential multiplier, not a guarantee.

If you are a club leader navigating this integration, the question is no longer "should we merge?" It is: "Do we have the operational playbook to monetize that merger?"

At the breakaway, we help clubs, leagues, and federations answer that question. We build data-driven commercial strategies that turn integration from a brand exercise into a revenue engine.

If you are looking to unlock the hidden value in your women's team, let’s talk.

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References:

Hadwiger, J., Schmidt, S. L., & Schreyer, D. (2024). Integrated women's football teams can attract larger stadium crowds. European Sport Management Quarterly.

The commercial success of the Women’s Rugby World Cup wasn't an accident, a stroke of luck, or a byproduct of "momentum." It was engineered.

What World Rugby demonstrated is a lesson every federation, league and club must now confront: sustainable commercial value in women's sport is not built by hoping for short-term profits. It is built by making a deliberate, decade-long commitment to investment.

This strategic shift was the central theme in a recent, candid discussion with the architects of this success—Sally Horrox, Sarah Massey, Alex Teasdale and Leili Rees-Evans. Their analysis didn't just highlight a single successful tournament; it revealed a transferable playbook that provides a clear blueprint for any sport—and a wake-up call for those still operating on a year-to-year cycle.

Principle 1: Adopt a 10-Year Horizon, Not a 12-Month P&L

World Rugby’s masterstroke was reframing success. By shifting from a single-event focus to a ten-year hosting model, they unlocked the three elements most women’s sports properties lack:

• Unified Strategy: A single roadmap aligning World Rugby, domestic unions, hosts and government stakeholders, eliminating the fragmented, event-to-event approach that plagues development.

• Centralized Commercial Control: Key assets (governance, data and commercial rights) were brought under a coherent model, enabling smarter investment and driving consistent value for partners.

• Compounding Knowledge: Instead of starting from scratch every four years, the organization now builds on each cycle, retaining learnings and accelerating growth.

This is the structural backbone that women’s sport, across all disciplines, urgently needs.

Principle 2: Invest in the Product Before You Demand a Return

A premium product is the only sustainable path to premium revenue. This principle confronts a flawed logic common in women's sport: asking partners to fund a vision is a request for charity; asking them to buy into a premium product is a business transaction.

World Rugby doubled its investment with a clear goal: build a product so compelling that commercial success becomes inevitable. 

The funds were directed into three strategic pillars:

A. World-Class Broadcast: Visibility begins with a world-class broadcast. Investing in top-tier production, embedded content creators with every team and a social-first storytelling approach made rugby culturally relevant. It wasn't just about coverage; it was about audience engineering, creating a "digital rugby clubhouse" that drew in new fans on platforms like TikTok and Snapchat.

B. Player-Centric Growth: World Rugby treated its players not as an expense, but as the primary engine of commercial growth. By investing in player standards (from business-class travel to high-performance environments) they recognized a fundamental truth of women’s sport: empowered, respected athletes perform better, engage more authentically and become your most powerful marketers.

C. Engineering the Fan Experience: The tournament didn’t just expect fans to show up; it built the conditions for them to come in record numbers. This was a deliberate process involving nationwide venue distribution, family-friendly scheduling, and accessible pricing. The result (over 444,000 tickets sold and 92% average occupancy) was not a surprise, but the direct outcome of a fan-first strategy.

The Blueprint for Any League

The success of women's rugby was not accidental. It was the outcome of a clear, disciplined playbook that can be applied to any sport, from football and hockey to basketball and volleyball.

1. Think in decades, not seasons. Build a long-term strategic platform, not just a series of disconnected events.

2. Invest in the product before you extract profit. A premium product is the only sustainable path to premium revenue. 

3. Create governance that enables consistency. Centralize control over key assets to build compounding value.

4. Put players at the center of your brand. They are your most powerful commercial asset.

5. Engineer the fan experience. Remove every point of friction between your fans and the live game.

6. Use data to guide every commercial decision. Move from intuition-based to data-led strategy.

7. Build an identity that cannot be confused. Own a unique space in the cultural landscape.

This blueprint is not theoretical; we are seeing its principles applied successfully across other sports. 

In North America, the PWHL launched not with a tentative pilot, but with a fully-formed professional league, a unified collective bargaining agreement, and a centralized commercial strategy, a direct application of investing in the product first (Principle #2).

Similarly, in Italy, the Lega Volley Femminile is making a bold strategic bet. By forming a new commercial entity with an investment fund, NJF, they plan to broadcast all matches for free across social platforms. This is a classic long-term play: prioritizing mass audience reach and fan data acquisition (Point #5) to build a more valuable asset before focusing on short-term media rights revenue.

The Only Question That Matters Now

The Women’s Rugby World Cup provided the blueprint. The principles are clear. The question for every other leader in sport is no longer what to do, but how to do it.

How do you translate a 10-year vision into a Year 1 operational plan? How do you secure the budget for strategic investments when stakeholders demand short-term results? How do you build the internal systems, processes, and commercial structures to turn ambition into revenue?

Answering these questions requires more than a standard consultant's report. It requires a partner who has been inside the game and has bridged the exact gap between C-suite strategy and on-the-ground reality.

This is the work I do at the breakaway. As a former CEO of a professional women's club, I partner with organizations to implement these very blueprints, turning visionary goals into operational plans that build lasting commercial value.

If you are ready to move from discussion to action, let's have a conversation. Contact me at info@thebreakaway.io.

A deep dive into bias, organisational culture, and concrete solutions to accelerate women’s advancement in sport — sparked by a dedicated workshop at the Social Football Summit 2025.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending the 2025 edition of the Social Football Summit, held at Juventus’ Allianz Stadium in Turin. Over the years, this event has become one of the leading platforms in Italy for discussing innovation in football and sport more broadly.

The moment I walked in, I couldn’t help noticing something I already knew: women were few and far between. And among them, the number of women who currently hold — or have held — senior leadership roles could be counted on one hand. It’s unsurprising, yet still striking.

This is precisely why I deeply appreciated the invitation from Massimo Tucci, one of the Summit organisers, to join a working group dedicated to women’s leadership and the theme “Organisational culture and unconscious bias”, held in memory of Emanuela Perinetti.

It was an intimate, closed-door session designed to enable an honest exchange among women with different backgrounds but a shared objective: driving change.

The workshop revolved around a football-pitch-shaped board divided into defence (barriers), midfield (causes and ideas), and attack (solutions). A simple but extremely effective approach, which I explored together with:

Elisabetta Scorcu, CSG Manager at Cagliari Calcio and Vice President of the Paralympic Football Division, Marta Carissimi, Head of Women’s Football at Genoa CFC, Camilla Veronelli, CSR Manager at Como 1907, and Emma, a LUISS university student who brought a fresh and grounded perspective.

Key Insights from the Workshop

We began in the “defensive area,” tackling the cultural barriers that still hinder women’s progression in sport and in organisations. Several dynamics emerged strongly: unconscious biases shaping hiring and promotion decisions; insufficient recognition of women’s expertise, especially in technical or decision-making roles; and organisational models still built around male norms — from working hours to leadership styles.

One sentence from the group captured this reality perfectly:

“To be respected, we’re expected to be tough. But I don’t feel comfortable being that way.”

Added to this is the lack of visible, accessible role models, which directly affects career progression and reinforces the common feeling of not being fully legitimised.

Moving to “midfield,” we analysed the roots of these barriers. Many biases are so normalised that they become invisible. Training on inclusive leadership and gender equity is still largely absent. And the underrepresentation of women at decision-making tables makes it harder to shift priorities from within.

We also reflected on the generational aspect. Just over fifty years ago, in the 1970s, Comencini’s documentary-style interviews were being broadcast — videos that all of us had seen circulating recently on social media — in which a husband openly stated that his wife was “his” and he could do whatever he wanted with her. Our peers are the children of that generation.

And in a country like Italy, where football is deeply embedded in family culture and closely associated with ideas of virility, women’s football inevitably struggles to gain ground. Changing this will take time, but silence is not an option.

In the “attacking phase,” we focused on solutions. Many women acknowledged the importance of building strong networks — tapping into the idea of the “locker room,” something men have historically excelled at. At the same time, we recognised how difficult it can be for women to form these networks: sometimes because we’re not used to it, other times because we’ve been subtly taught to see each other as competitors.

A strong point of consensus was the need to actively involve men in bias-awareness processes, turning them into genuine allies.

One proposal I personally believe in is the creation of youth advisory boards (groups of 10- to 18-year-olds) who can help clubs see the world through the eyes of younger generations. Their sensitivity to issues of inclusion is often far more advanced than ours.

We closed the session with a clear shared understanding: advancing women in sport is not a symbolic gesture or a side project. It’s an investment in leadership quality, organisational competitiveness, and the long-term sustainability of the sports ecosystem.

And the first concrete step is building a network capable of supporting this vision.

⸻

Why This Matters for the Future of Sport

Sport is a highly visible, high-impact sector. Every step forward in the internal culture of clubs, federations, and sports institutions creates a ripple effect that shapes the expectations, behaviours, and aspirations of future generations.

In this sense, moments like the workshop at the Social Football Summit are far more than reflective exercises — they are tangible steps toward a fairer, more modern, and more competitive ecosystem.

I am grateful for the opportunity to contribute through my experience in the women’s game and in cultural transformation. And equally grateful to have done so alongside capable, curious, and courageous women committed to building a better future.

Last week, I was invited to a seminar in Stockholm organised by Elitfotboll Dam (EFD), the body representing Sweden’s 28 elite women’s football clubs, to talk about a topic that is particularly close to my heart: how to build value-driven organisations.

From my side, I tried to bring both perspectives: nearly twenty years spent in global digital and media consulting, and more recently, the experience of leading and advising women’s football clubs. Two worlds that sometimes operate at different speeds and with different pressures, but share the same human truth: people want to feel part of something meaningful.

I’ve long believed that football clubs today need more than a logo and a postcode to define who they are. Being “the club of a certain city” isn’t enough anymore. The clubs that will thrive are those capable of building a clear identity based on values: with a defined vision, mission and set of guiding principles that influence decisions at every level.

In many ways, this is what the corporate world has been doing for years. Sport organisations, too, now need that same clarity if they want to inspire not only fans and players, but also partners, sponsors, and communities.

One question I often ask sport leaders is simple: What does your organisation truly stand for?

Today, identity is increasingly emotional and cultural rather than territorial. Fans, athletes and employees alike want to belong to a cause.

This is especially true for women’s sport, which holds the opportunity to define its identity from scratch. It can decide not just who it represents, but what and how.

During my fireside chat with Jenny Hermansson, Secretary General of EFD, we explored this idea through the lens of recruitment with purpose.

How can clubs and companies attract people who not only perform, but also believe in the organisation’s mission and values? How do we make sure that culture isn’t just a slide in a presentation, but something people experience in every interaction, from the first interview to the locker room?

Other voices at the seminar added rich layers to the discussion. Mirelle van Rijbroek, Director of Global Scouting & Recruitment at Bay FC, shared thoughtful insights on building inclusive and psychologically safe environments: the kind of settings where people feel free to speak up, contribute, and grow. Anko van der Werff, CEO and President of SAS, offered a business perspective on leading with conviction and a “no-mediocrity” mindset. His story about how a clear vision and objective-driven culture helped SAS navigate challenges felt strikingly relevant to sport.

The audience, over a hundred participants from clubs, companies, and other sports organisations, reflected how broad this conversation has become. Whether in football or aviation, in sport or business, the questions are converging: How do we build cultures that inspire people to do their best work?

When “this is how we’ve always done it” meets “let’s try something new”

In business, especially in media and tech, change is the norm.  When I began my career in 2008, analysing cost-per-clicks and adapting to every shift in Google’s algorithms, I quickly learned that technology evolves by the day. To stay relevant, you have to keep learning, adjusting and moving forward. And so did the people around me.

Football, by contrast, is rooted in tradition. Many systems are inherited, often unquestioned. There’s comfort in continuity, but also risk in inertia.

Yet in women’s sport, something fascinating is happening. It’s both legacy and start-up. On one side, you have structures borrowed from the men’s game; on the other, you have the freedom to build differently, to design from purpose, not imitation.

As Anko van der Werff noted in his own fireside chat at the seminar, he encourages his teams at SAS to “just try something new” — with one important exception: the pilots!

The same principle applies in sport. Tradition and innovation, both have value, but aligning them around a shared vision takes trust and time. It’s not unlike leading a business through transformation: where the hardest part is not the strategy, but helping people let go of the old map before the new one is fully drawn.

Skills matter, but character changes everything

In both football and business, recruitment often starts with technical checklists.

But as I matured more experience leading teams, the more I thought that what truly moves performance is character. Technical ability can be developed; mindset rarely can.

I think of one player who wasn’t the most talented on paper but became a true leader in the locker room, lifting everyone around her. And another, full of potential, who never quite fit. A reminder that talent alone isn’t enough.

That’s why, when recruiting, I always look for curiosity and intent, not just competence or education.

In many cases, access to top education also reflects access to privilege. Hiring based solely on academic background often means hiring from the same circles, and getting the same perspectives. It narrows the view instead of widening it. True diversity comes from valuing potential and mindset, not just credentials.

Culture is not a poster on the wall

We talk a lot about culture, but I’ve seen few organisations that truly live it. 

Earlier in my career, I experienced it first-hand at Expedia Group. Values there weren’t abstract words on a slide: they shaped daily conversations and real decisions. Even performance reviews assessed how well you lived those values. It was a great school for me, and a rare example of an organisation where guiding principles were not decoration, but direction.

In sport, I’ve seen a similar approach at EVZ, the ice hockey club in Zug, Switzerland, which I now advise as it develops its women’s program. From my very first meeting with them, I was struck by the level of commitment coming straight from top management. From day one, the ambition was clear: to become one of Europe’s leading women’s teams within five years.

That kind of clarity is magnetic. It acts as a North Star, and it attracts talent. Several of the best Swiss players, including some who had moved abroad, chose to come back because they could see the intent was real.

That’s what culture does: it signals seriousness. People don’t just want a job or a contract; they want to belong to something credible.

As Mirelle van Rijbroek put it perfectly: “Find people who believe what you believe.”

Recruitment is brand communication

Recruitment isn’t a process: it’s a story you tell about who you are.

From the first message to the last interview, you’re showing candidates your values more than you’re describing them. How you hire (and how you fire) tells a lot about your company’s culture.

Take something as simple as communication. If you can’t respond to everyone, at least manage expectations: “If you don’t hear from us by [date], it means you haven’t made it to the next step.” It’s a small act of respect that says a lot about your culture.

Professionalism is a value. Transparency is a value.

They’re not details: they’re signals.

Redefining identity and the next generation of leaders

Beyond the question of why someone would want to work for a particular club or company, there’s also the question of how they want to work within it.

I’m increasingly convinced that the traditional full-time job model is becoming outdated. People are more than a single role. We’re complex, multi-layered, and driven by different passions. More and more, individuals are choosing to build a portfolio life: a diversified and flexible career that evolves alongside their identity and purpose.

Mirelle van Rijbroek raised a great point during the seminar: if sport wants to bring more women into coaching and leadership roles, it must design modern working models that reflect real life, models that recognise women’s broader responsibilities and priorities.

Once again, women’s sport has a rare opportunity: to build its structures from scratch and design engagement models that are both progressive and human.

Why this matters now

Women’s football is no longer a side project, it’s an industry on the rise. Deloitte projects global revenues for women’s elite sport to surpass $2.35 billion this year, with football driving nearly half. The growth is there; what matters now is how we build.

Recruitment sits at the heart of that evolution. The teams, clubs, and companies that will thrive are those that recruit not just for skill, but for story. For alignment. For purpose.

Because whether you’re hiring a centre-back or a strategist, what you’re really building is culture. And culture, when done right, becomes your most sustainable competitive advantage.

Last week, I saw several posts celebrating a new women’s 1-hour track world record and a new 4km women’s individual pursuit world record. As a cyclist, I know how staggering those numbers are, especially for those of us who obsess over average speed. Vittoria Bussi rode for one hour at 50.455 km/h.

And yet, some journalists admitted they couldn’t give these achievements the visibility they deserved due to “other priorities.”

That got me curious. So I reached out directly to Vittoria. What was supposed to be a short exchange turned into a much deeper conversation about resilience, ambition, and the courage to build your own path.

“It's not cycling I love—it's the suffering. The bike is just the means I chose to survive.”

Vittoria Bussi is far from your typical athlete. She holds a PhD in mathematics from Oxford and had a post-doc offer from Imperial College. She calculates watts, drag coefficients, and aerodynamics with the same precision as a Formula 1 engineer tuning a car for pole position. She came into cycling late, at 27, following the sudden death of her father. “The message he left me was crystal clear: time is the only thing we truly have. From that day on, I decided to live for both of us.”

Challenging the System

Vittoria entered the world of elite cycling relatively late in life, and as an outsider.

“I loved riding my bike, but I didn’t feel like I belonged in a world where athletes were just executors of strategies decided by others. Unlike my teammates, who had grown up in that environment, I came from a different background; and I wasn’t there just to follow orders.”

Within two years, she made a radical choice: to build her own team, independent of externally imposed sponsors or technical constraints.

“I wrote out the performance in mathematical formulas. I realized that, for the same watts, I could go faster by lowering my aerodynamic coefficient. I did the math, and understood I could beat the world record.”

That’s how the BJ Bike Project was born: an athlete-led, self-managed structure where the rider is at the center. No brand dictated her choice of bike or technical equipment. She tested materials, simulated track conditions, and invested her own money to determine, through scientific and mathematical analysis, what it would take to break the record.

Quiet Records, Unforgettable Impact

Before breaking the record again last week, she had already done it in 2018, and then again in 2023. And yet, there was no national TV coverage.

“The men’s Italian record? Prime time broadcast. Mine? A short press mention. And when I also broke the 4km pursuit record, the headline was: ‘Bussi, 38, still rides her bike.’ As if that was the story.”

But she didn’t stop there. She drew on her confidence in breaking the world record again to challenge one of the sport’s institutional barriers. The UCI had recently introduced a new rule requiring athletes to work with an exclusive provider to certify a record attempt, at a cost unaffordable to anyone without major sponsorship backing. For an independent athlete like her, it was a non-starter. So she pushed back, threatening to go for the record without official certification. After months of pressure, the system relented. “It was a small act of disobedience. But today, the hour record is more accessible to others too.”

A Voice Outside the Chorus

As she explains, the challenge goes far beyond her personal story.

“In Italy, there’s little awareness of the social role of athletes. We’re not just logos and performance. But the system trains us to be machines: someone books your flights, tells you what to eat, what to do. And then what? Who are you when it all ends?"

Talking to Vittoria, who candidly says she’s “not good at social media”, and thinking about the lack of media interest around her record, I can’t help but reflect: without a platform, it’s incredibly difficult for athletes (women or men) to break through. Performance matters. But arguably, so does self-promotion. And what if you don’t know how?

A Business Model Built on Shared Meaning

Coming from a commercial background, I asked her how she built the funding model for BJ Bike Project: specifically, how she secured “cash sponsors,” i.e., those who directly support operations.

Vittoria had already succeeded in something remarkable: bringing together some of the most respected and specialized cycling brands to collaborate on her mission to break the world record—names like Hope, Vittoria Group, Wahoo. But beyond the technical partnerships, I was curious about how she sustained the project financially.

Her answer was revealing. Most of her partners aren’t big-name brands looking for media exposure. They’re businesses often led by visionary founders or individuals who, like her, have experienced grief, reinvention, or a profound personal journey. This year, there are just six or seven of them.

“They support me not because I ride, but because my story resonates with their own.”

In an industry where visibility and ROI metrics often dominate, her experience is a reminder that the roots of sport still run deep in human connection. Sponsorship, at its best, isn’t just about performance or exposure: it’s about shared values, mutual recognition, and the desire to be part of something meaningful. It’s a form of giving back.

What Now?

At 38, and after so many battles, her body still performs, but her mind is asking for rest. “I need time to understand what comes next.”

But one thing is certain: “I’ve never been interested in being seen. I’m not good at telling my story. But now I feel the need to speak up, so that the next woman who tries doesn’t have to start from zero like I did.”

Congratulations once again to Vittoria: not only for breaking the record, but above all for the courage it took to carve her own path, challenge the system, and persevere when few were watching. Her impact goes far beyond the numbers: she’s sparked a ripple effect, inspiring others to raise the bar and take on the hour record (and other challenges) with renewed ambition.

That’s her true legacy—one that will endure well beyond the stopwatch.