It’s hard not to get swept up in the surge of women’s sport right now. Eighty thousand fans filled Twickenham for the Women's Rugby World Cup final. A Women’s Euros that held the home nation on the edge of its seat until Chloe Kelly hammered home that decisive spot kick.
The sight of girls’ football matches scattered across local parks still stops me in my tracks, a visibility many of us never had growing up. We were the generation who loved games that didn’t always love us back. Now, finally, we can see what it means when they do.
The rise has been extraordinary: women’s football participation up 56% in four years, cricket reporting a 25% jump in women’s teams last season alone. We’re living through a once-in-a-generation transformation, and every sport is asking the same question: how do we turn this momentum into something lasting?
Something is shifting in golf, too. The R&A reports a surge in female participation, driven by modern formats, things like driving ranges, par-3 courses and simulators. Women now make up almost half of all off-course golfers, a figure that would have sounded impossible a decade ago. Golf, at least in its most accessible quarters, is quietly having its own version of that moment.
That same sense of possibility sits behind England Golf’s bid to bring the Solheim Cup, the women’s equivalent of the Ryder Cup, to England for the first time in 2030. The Grove in Hertfordshire, already a proven tour venue, is the preferred host, but to get there, England Golf will need to convince the government that this is a moment worth backing.
History shows that when the UK stages women’s golf at its best, fans turn up in force. At Walton Heath in 2023, galleries packed the fairways for the AIG Women’s Open, with champion Lilia Vu calling them “the best I’ve ever played in front of.”
This year, Royal Porthcawl went one better, hosting Wales’s biggest women’s sporting event with 47,000 fans, many of them young girls craning for a glimpse of Charley Hull or Nelly Korda. The 2019 Solheim Cup at Gleneagles drew more than 90,000 spectators and proved what women’s golf can be: visible, valuable and impossible to ignore.
England already has the players to lead that story. Hull is one of golf’s most compelling figures, confident, immensely talented and unapologetically herself. Lottie Woad, just 21, is already an LPGA winner, and few would bet against her making that 2030 Solheim team. Add Georgia Hall, Mimi Rhodes and a new wave of young English professionals, and the narrative writes itself.
Hosting the Solheim Cup would complete the home nations’ clean sweep: Scotland, Wales and Ireland have all staged the contest. England, despite having the largest base of female golfers, still hasn’t. Beyond symbolism, it’s a chance to lock in participation growth and build genuine pathways for the next generation.
Because the real opportunity isn’t just about one week of golf, it’s what comes after. Driving ranges and simulators have introduced thousands of women to the game; the challenge now is helping them take the next step: joining clubs, playing regularly, feeling like they belong.
Too many traditional environments still feel out of reach, held back by cost, access or culture. A home Solheim Cup could help change that, showing women’s golf not as a niche, but as a vibrant, visible part of English sport.
Football and rugby have already shown what’s possible when visibility meets investment. They’ve proved that women’s sport can be a social and cultural force that inspires millions. Golf has that same chance.
It would be naïve to think one week in 2030 could do it alone. Turning that moment into a genuine legacy will take follow-through, coaching, access, club culture, all pulling in the same direction. But that’s exactly the kind of momentum a home Solheim Cup could help unlock.
England Golf’s hopes now rest on securing government support to make the bid viable, a decision that will determine whether this moment of opportunity becomes reality.
For those of us who love the game, the idea of a generation of girls discovering it, not by accident, but because it’s been made visible and welcoming, is a tantalising one. A home Solheim Cup wouldn’t just mark a moment; it could light the path for a generation who finally see themselves in the game.
