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Snapshots are on the ground reports from our editorial department, field notes offering context, perspective, and a sharp lens on the cultures shaping the game.
Editorials
Members
Commissions
Think Tank
Image Licensing
About
Snapshots are on the ground reports from our editorial department, field notes offering context, perspective, and a sharp lens on the cultures shaping the game.
Akis Katsoudas — July 15 2025
ST. GALLEN, Switzerland — It’s the 76th minute. Wales bursts forward on the counter. Jess Fishlock, the team’s number 10, is sprinting into the penalty area. Her pass to Hannah Cain is perfect. What does it need? Just a soft touch, and it’s a goal. Right behind her, the stand filled with red-clad Welsh fans erupts in celebration.
If someone wasn’t watching the match, they might think this was the winning goal. The one that sealed a historic qualification against a fierce rival, sending Wales through to the Women’s Euro for the first time ever. A fairy-tale moment. But no, this was just 5–1. The consolation goal.
Somewhere in the middle of the Welsh crowd, I’m standing too. Right next to me is Beca, a passionate supporter of the team and a schoolteacher by profession. She’s travelled all the way from Wales to Switzerland to watch her national team—and to follow the rest of the tournament. Her cheeks are painted in the Welsh colours, and she’s joking around with a group of English fans in front of us.
There’s no tension between them. In fact, she admires Leah Williamson and the Arsenal women’s team. When it comes to the men’s game, she supports Liverpool. The match ends 6–1. A triumph for the Lionesses and a place in the quarterfinals. The Welsh fans, despite the heavy defeat, are still full of joy. After all, it’s their very first appearance at a Women’s Euro. “Next time, we’re coming to win it,” Beca laughs.
The songs and chants continue even after the match, all the way to the train station. Both platforms are packed with supporters from both teams. I board the train to Zurich. Every carriage is overflowing with people. There’s nothing to see out the windows—only darkness. It’s a stark contrast to the afternoon journey to St. Gallen, when the view was all green fields, little rivers, quiet lakes, and grazing cows.
This time, standing next to me is Caroline and her child. They arrived just yesterday, only for the match, and they’re leaving the next day. They love this team and follow it wherever they can. What Caroline loves most about women’s football is that the crowd is different—families, lots of women. She hopes the weather will be kind tomorrow so they can go swimming in Lake Zurich. But if not, that’s fine. They’re just happy to have seen their team score. Even if they lost 6–1.