This year’s UEFA Women’s Champions League final will be played at a 27,000 seat stadium in Oslo, Norway. At time when women’s football is capable of selling out Wembley and Camp Nou, which both hosted quarter-finals and semi-finals, the return to smaller venues feels like a strange step backwards, like Aitana Bonmatí has also pointed out
“I have nothing against Norway, it seems like a fantastic country to me, but it’s obvious the conditions are different compared to previous years. When you come from opening up huge stadiums, I think going to Norway to play in a much smaller venue than usual is a step backwards,” said Aitana Bonmatí and it sparked plenty of discussion across social media.
This year’s UEFA Women’s Champions League final will be played at Oslo’s Ullevaal Stadion. Norway’s national stadium with a capacity of 27,182. A more intimate, traditional, functional venue. But it is precisely its size that has raised questions. Not because Oslo is not a worthy host, but because women’s football has outgrown the idea that “a smaller stadium is enough.”
Unsurprisingly, the final sold out quickly. Unless fans were willing to take the risk and buy tickets well in advance without knowing whether their team would actually make the final, they were likely out of luck. One of those fans was Michaela, who travelled to support Barcelona Femení in the semifinals at both Camp Nou and the Allianz Arena, stadiums with larger capacities.
“Even though I believed Barcelona would make it, I wanted to be sure. I tried to get tickets as soon as the final whistle blew, but they were already gone. In the end I managed to get them, but it took a lot of effort,” Michaela told Queenballers.
Just a few years ago, this kind of decision would have made sense. UEFA approached the women’s game cautiously for a long time. Women’s Champions League finals were played in smaller stadiums, often away from major footballing centres, without expectations of massive crowds. But reality changed faster than the infrastructure surrounding it.
In 2023, nearly 35,000 fans watched the final at a sold-out Philips Stadion in Eindhoven. In 2024, Bilbao hosted the final, where almost 50,000 supporters saw Barcelona lift the trophy at San Mamés. A year later, the final moved to Lisbon’s Estádio José Alvalade, which holds more than 52,000 fans. That shift felt symbolic. It was not just about numbers, it was about the feeling that women’s football no longer needed to prove it deserved the biggest stages.
Because today, the biggest matches in women’s football are capable of filling the biggest stadiums.
More than 87,000 people attended the Euro 2022 final at Wembley. Attendance records also fell during the Women’s World Cup in Australia and New Zealand. In Asia, the Women’s Asian Cup drew crowds that would have been unimaginable a decade ago. Barcelona regularly opens Camp Nou for Women’s Champions League matches. Arsenal moved a large number of women’s fixtures to the Emirates Stadium because demand had long outgrown Meadow Park where they used to play before.
And perhaps that is why Bonmatí’s words resonated so strongly. It was never really about criticising Norway. It was about the concern that women’s football is still being asked to prove its value over and over again, even though the numbers already speak for themselves.
Stadiums are never just about logistics. They are also symbols of ambition. When UEFA stages a men’s Champions League final at a major stadium, it automatically communicates the importance of the occasion. The prestige. The scale of the moment. In women’s football, however, the language often still feels different — more cautious, safer, less willing to take risks.
That may be why this year’s decision feels so strange. Women’s football is no longer at the stage where the goal should simply be to “fill a stadium.” The goal should be to create space for further growth. And that is exactly where the debate begins.
In recent years, UEFA has frequently spoken about the unprecedented boom in women’s football. The marketing around the Women’s Champions League is stronger than ever. Television audiences are growing. Sponsors are arriving. This year, for example, every match is being broadcast by Disney+ for the first time. But growth is not just about campaigns. It is also about whether institutions are truly willing to give women the same platforms and spaces.
Because stadium size influences far more than just the number of tickets sold. It shapes the atmosphere, the visibility, the sense of importance, and ultimately the way the sport is remembered by the public. A final played in a major stadium creates the image of an event that goes beyond the match itself.
For a long time, there was something deeply communal about women’s football. Intimate, even. Fans often spoke about their closeness to players, the smaller stadiums, the accessibility, the different kind of atmosphere. And part of that charm still matters.
The current generation of players grew up in an environment where women’s football was constantly fighting for its place. But today’s generation of fans is entering a sport capable of becoming a global spectacle. And with that come new expectations.
Perhaps that is why this year’s final feels like such a strange moment in an otherwise progressive story. Not a disaster. Not a scandal. More a reminder that the growth of women’s football is not linear and that even in an era of record-breaking progress, institutions can still think too cautiously.
When the lights come on in Oslo this year and the stands fill up, the final will probably still be a fantastic occasion. The quality on the pitch stopped being a question long ago. The real question is something else: why is women’s football still expected to settle for spaces it has already outgrown?
At least there is good news on the horizon. Next year’s final will take place in Warsaw at the Stadion Narodowy, which holds more than 58,000 fans. It also sends an important message that women’s football is not only a sport for Western and Northern Europe.