Football is for everyone. The people’s game. One of the few sports that transcends global borders and languages. At least, that’s how it’s always been advertised. In reality, football has consistently proven to be for a specific demographic – white, male, straight, cisgender, neurotypical.

The list keeps growing. Anyone that falls outside of those strict parameters is automatically deemed ‘other’ – an anomaly within the sport. This constant othering in football has historically prevented the LGBTQ+ community from finding joy and comfort in it. It’s also stunted the growth of the women’s game. And now, as society slowly works towards destigmatising neurodivergence, it has been made shockingly clear how much football has failed those whose brains work differently than “normal”.

Over the past few years, societal attitudes towards neurodivergence have shifted greatly. With a rise in adults getting diagnosed for autism spectrum disorder, ADHD, OCD and other neural differences, it can feel as though neurodivergence is the new “normal”. A diagnosis later in life can be a game-changer for many, with more and more people even taking to social media to share their experiences and raise awareness of neurodivergence. 

In recent years, it seems as though more TikToks, Instagram infographics and X threads have been posted by people willing to speak about their differences, as well as experts looking to educate the general public. For the first time, the differences that nearly a quarter of the world’s population experience have become normalised. People aren’t afraid to tell their employers they have ADHD, or a new partner that they’re on the spectrum. So if the world has become more accepting of a neurodiverse society, why hasn’t that same shift occurred in the world of football?

Last year, Manchester United Women goalkeeper Safia Middleton-Patel shared a post on Instagram. The photo was a portrait of her holding up a pair of football boots with a small puzzle piece heart stamped on the side – a symbol commonly associated with ASD and the destigmatisation of autism. In the caption, the 19-year-old shared her recent ASD diagnosis saying: “Neurodivergence shouldn’t have a negative stigma attached, it seems it has actually always been my superpower, I just didn’t know it.” The women’s game has always been the more accepting side of football, but despite the culture of inclusivity women’s football prides itself on, Middleton-Patel is still one of the only active players – in both men’s and women’s football – that has opened up about being neurodivergent.

Research suggests that roughly 25 percent of the global population is neurodivergent. That accounts for approximately 2 billion people around the world. Realistically, a decent percentage of footballers, both at grassroots and professional levels, should be represented in those numbers. Despite the mathematics, only a handful of players have shared diagnoses of OCD, dyslexia, Tourette’s and more – often after their careers have ended. This trend of players waiting to hang up their boots before sharing these differences speaks more to the state of football than the players themselves. 

Perhaps the numbers aren’t so simple. Perhaps there aren’t a lot of neurodivergent professional footballers that just haven’t been diagnosed yet. After Austin’s testament, it’s obvious that neurodivergent players are not set up to succeed in football’s current structure, and that is something that can be and should be changed. Whether or not the sport is ready to acknowledge and tackle its neurodiversity problem is the issue.

Imagining the amount of players that have fallen out of love with the game for reasons out of their control, because accommodating their differences fell outside the rigid structure of football, is disheartening. There is something inherently robotic about the way football is organised, not just at the professional level, but at the youth level, as well. There are bright talents that could have succeeded at the top level that were ostracised from the game because their brains work a little differently than the rest. Others may be playing league football and hiding behind a mask – whether intentionally or not – because revealing those differences doesn’t fit the mould of the perfect footballer. Rather than providing these players with the resources and support they need to understand their minds and work within those differences on the pitch, it’s easier to leave them out of the sport altogether.

Clubs aren’t the only ones at fault here, though. Fans play a major part in both preventing players from seeking out or opening up about a diagnosis, as well as perpetuating the idea that neurodivergent people shouldn’t be playing football.

An episode of the Premier League’s ‘Behind the Game’ series resurfaces frequently on social media, in which Aaron Ramsdale told Ian Wright and Bugzy Malone that he struggles to focus on football for the full 90 minutes. Goalkeepers can go minutes without having so much as a glance at the ball in some matches, so it’s not surprising that Ramsdale has trouble focusing for the entire length of a game. Most people would find that difficult, but some fans seem to disagree.

Despite ADHD not being mentioned in the viral clip, football’s corner of social media have taken it upon themselves to diagnose Ramsdale, claiming it’s the reason behind his poor performances. Whether or not the Southampton keeper has ADHD, some fans have taken a baseline understanding of the condition and used it against him, stating that he shouldn’t have been playing for Arsenal, or in the top-flight at all. How are players that do have ADHD or another condition meant to feel comfortable sharing that part of themselves with their teammates, coaches and fans when this is how people react from the slightest suggestion that a footballer might be neurodivergent?

Football as we know it is not a safe space for neurodivergent players. But it can be. There are organisations and grassroots teams aiming to change that narrative. Team United in Scotland is a charity that works to break down barriers and create an environment for young, neurodivergent people to thrive in football and other sports. Though there is work being done to let people know football is a sport they can partake in, regardless of brain differences, the topic of neurodiversity hasn’t really pervaded the English Football League and other professional outfits. Having those conversations and creating a culture where football mirrors society in its efforts to destigmatise neurodiversity is the way forward. This isn’t a change that can take place overnight, but the beautiful game needs to start taking steps to ensure that football is truly for everyone.

AFC Totton’s Charlie Austin shared his ADHD diagnosis recently, stating that both of his daughters’ diagnoses spurred him to get tested, as well. In a statement posted on X, the striker shared how he struggled with impulsivity and hyperactivity before his diagnosis, often finding it difficult to focus without a routine, and feeling incredibly low when things weren’t going well on the pitch. 

“I went through all the emotions, confusion, upset and anger, how different could life have been if the diagnosis was at 20 instead of 34.” Austin’s experience of being diagnosed later in life is one that many can relate to – constantly looking back on life and imagining the different outcomes if they possessed that little bit of self-knowledge in their young adult years. The footballer’s been taking medication for four months now and expressed how much his outlook on life and football has changed since. Though the post itself was sudden and may have flown under the radar for most, its greater impact in creating visibility and awareness for other neurodivergent players is undeniable.

Despite getting an ADHD diagnosis almost two years ago, Austin was only able to start taking medication once he made the move to seventh-tier AFC Totton. Why? Because ADHD medications are prohibited according to the World Anti-Doping Agency, and thus not an option whilst playing professionally. Even with a diagnosis and prescription, professional neurodivergent players have been forced to either stop playing at the top level, or deal with their differences with little to no support. The fact that ADHD medications are prohibited with no exceptions shows how little football, and most sports, care for players with neural differences and their wellbeing. Austin’s diagnosis and the discussion it has sparked since, is the most recent and arguably the most impactful one the sport has seen – with multiple players reaching out to him following his post – but he isn’t the first.