Valentina Maceri presents football – and criticizes modern feminism


The broadcast in the television studio of the Swiss private broadcaster Blue has ended, Inter Milan has played against Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final , and now Valentina Maceri is standing in the middle of the room and is besieged by spectators.
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A father approaches Maceri, wanting to talk about football and presenting. His three sons stand a little way off, wearing Barcelona shirts and looking expectant. Maceri responds, smiles, then takes a photo. And then the next people want a picture with her: Valentina Maceri, former professional footballer, now football presenter, figurehead, political author, provocateur, projection screen, role model.
For almost two years, Maceri has hosted the Champions League evenings on Switzerland's leading football broadcaster, Blue Sport. Together with national chatterbox Roman Kilchsperger, she presents the matches of Europe's premier club competition.
Since the beginning of her career, Maceri has experienced hostility on social media. In the comment sections, people ask what a woman is doing at a sports broadcaster. Since when do washing machines talk about football?
And yet, Maceri has long been established in this male-dominated field. Inter Milan and Paris Saint-Germain will face off in Saturday's Champions League final, the football event of the year, and Maceri, 31, will lead the Swiss audience through the evening.
What does it mean when a woman moves naturally within a thoroughly macho system? When she doesn't accuse or demand, but simply takes charge? The answer lies somewhere between self-determination, hard work, and, as Valentina Maceri herself calls it, "cojones." Balls.
The youngest in the roomThe evening began in the studio backstage, in the sterile halls of Blue, somewhere in the Zurich metropolitan area. Maceri chatted with her guests on the show, including former FC Basel captain and national team player Marco Streller and former German international Dietmar Hamann. Maceri was plugged into the microphone and the last bit of powder was applied.
Maceri is surrounded by opinionated experts; she's the youngest in the group and—of course—the only woman. She could do without bold theses. She might not want to expose herself. But Maceri operates differently.
"2-1 for Inter," she predicts. "Never," a voice calls from the other corner of the room. Barcelona is far too strong in attack, and the young prodigy Lamine Yamal is too dangerous for Inter's defense. Maceri remains alone with her opinion. A feeling she has had since childhood.
She grew up in Nuremberg, in an apartment directly above the restaurant run by her parents, who had immigrated from Italy. As a child, she looked up to her cousin. With him, she played soccer on the streets against other boys, always as the only girl. If she scored a goal or outsmarted a boy, she got annoyed instead of applause. The boys didn't like being made fun of.
From the lawn to the studioHer parents were also against her playing football. They said it wasn't for girls. Bowed legs, bruises, that wasn't appropriate. Maceri continued playing anyway. A coach spotted her in the schoolyard and convinced her parents to put her on a girls' team. A professional career actually followed, with appearances for the German national team's youth teams and in the Women's Champions League. When she realized her career options were limited, she switched to the camera. And always stayed close to the pitch.
Maceri studied communications and sports management and completed internships. She then joined the sports department of "Bild," where she stayed for six years.
The switch to Blue began with a message from iconic presenter Marcel Reif . Maceri was sitting in front of the television, watching the Champions League. Reif asked if she could imagine hosting in Switzerland. Blue was looking for a female co-host for the show with Roman Kilchsperger. Maceri was already known from Marcel Reif's own show, "Reif ist Live."
When Valentina Maceri appears on screen today, she's usually shown surrounded by old acquaintances—Roman Kilchsperger or Marcel Reif. These are men with opinions, with decades of football experience, and a familiarity with the team. At first glance, Maceri seems to be the opposite in every context. Even though they speak the same language. When it comes to back threes, counter-pressing, and a dropping midfielder, Maceri knows what she's talking about.
Was that sexist?Colleagues rave about Maceri. They call her a "machine." Or simply, "huge." These are words men typically use to describe other men. This "one of us" sentiment is palpable behind the scenes at Blue, when Maceri discusses a Bundesliga coach with Didi Hamann before a game or laughs at a knee-slapper from Roman Kilchsperger without rolling her eyes.
The evening is now underway. At halftime, Kilchsperger reminds us of one point on the agenda that he still wants to clarify: which of the Champions League coaches is the most attractive.
Valentina Maceri sits across from the winking Kilchsperger. She laughs, as she often does when things get silly. "As an Italian, I'll naturally vote for Simone Inzaghi," she says. Her colleagues nod and joke about Hansi Flick's sports jacket and Inzaghi's tailored Milanese suit. Maceri adds that Flick embodies German virtues , while Inzaghi embodies Milanese style. Everyone laughs. Then the conversation continues.
Was that sexist?
Maceri later says that as a woman, you don't have to make a fuss every time a question is asked; you can simply gloss over it with charm. "I know how Roman ticks," she says. And he knows she can counter.
«The Error of Modern Feminism»Maceri's first book, "Fuck Female Empowerment – The Great Mistake of Modern Feminism," was recently published. It's a book that's more about attitude than craft. The arguments are clear, the language is sharp.
Maceri rejects what many see as progress. She writes about pride, achievement, and personal responsibility. In conversation, she sits upright and speaks calmly. Her sentences seem formatted. Not a single note is overlooked. The title of the book is deliberately provocative, she says – but should be taken with a wink. "Female empowerment" is everywhere these days: in advertising, on social media, a label that sells well. "Often, what lies behind it isn't true equality, but rather a movement that's standing in its own way."
Is this a woman pulling the ladder behind her after she's reached the top herself? Maceri shakes her head: "Never. I'm happy for every woman who succeeds. I believe in equal opportunities, not equality of outcome." And that's exactly what today's feminist movements wanted.
In her book, Maceri mentions an article in which a journalist portrayed Roman Kilchsperger's comment about her dress as problematic. "The sexist's storyline was perfected faster than I could personally laugh at my colleague's harmless joke," she writes in the introduction to her book. Today, the public decides what is sexism and what isn't.
Nevertheless, the question remains: Why this book? Why this offensive—against a movement that is actually on their side?
Valentina Maceri could have taken it easy. Lucrative hosting gigs, good ratings, little friction. Instead: a book title like a middle finger. Such slogans could be a reflection of frustration – or a desire for even more attention and the spotlight.
For Maceri, the answer is clear. She's not looking for a fight. "I see what happens on social media. How quickly you get canceled if you contradict a certain narrative. And my career is a good example of a woman who never played the victim and yet still succeeded." Maceri says that constantly talking about the ominous patriarchy doesn't help any young girl.
Now the Champions League final follows on Saturday. She'll be challenged. And after that? When Maceri talks about the future, she says: Ballon d'Or – the award for the best footballer in the world . She wants to host this gala. She wants to work internationally, perhaps in Italy, perhaps in England. That's her dream.
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