WHO’S excited for Sunday? I can’t wait. I’ll be taking my eldest daughter to Wembley Stadium to watch England vs Germany in the final of the 2022 Women’s European Championships.

It’ll be a trip down memory lane of sorts for the pair of us, as it will be 10 years since I took her to watch GB Women beat Brazil at the 2012 London Olympics.

A lot has changed in 10 years, changed utterly.

Sarina Wiegman’s Lionesses (why not simply Lions?) have grabbed the country’s imagination through their humble grace as much as their talent and technique.

I have had the great fortune to be able to witness their thrilling progress first hand for most of this month.

From the 8-0 shellacking of Norway at Brighton, made notable not so much by the stunning scoreline, as the fact the team were so relentlessly intense from the moment they scored their first goal to the last second.

Never mind the fact Martin Sjorgen’s side were the better team for the opening 11 minutes. Lopsided thrashings normally don’t do anyone any favours. But this merciless rout of Norway laid down a marker.

The football world, and the country, took even more notice a week later.

When Georgia Stanway’s spectacular long-range effort flew in to beat Spain over 120 fierce minutes. What a gruelling match that was. I felt shattered, and I was only in the stands at Brighton, as the inspirational Lionesses emerged 2-1 victors after a mesmerising game on the south coast.

I can’t recall the last time I celebrated a goal so joyously as when Stanway’s strike flew into the net, beating Spain’s keeper Sandra Panos all ends up.

Well, that was until I was at Bramall Lane to witness Alessia Russo continuing to be England’s super-sub. I don’t know about you, but I’m still talking about her goal of outstanding verve that sealed the semi-final by making it 3-0 against the highest-ranked team in the tournament, Sweden.  

I think I was still processing the game’s pivotal moment, when keeper Mary Earps made the save of the summer after she somehow tipped over Stina Blackstenius’s effort moments earlier, prior to Russo’s impudent backheel that had my youngest daughter, and so many other youngsters no doubt, practising it the next day.

Who knows how the momentum would have shifted towards the Swedes at only 2-1 down with 25 minutes still to play — rather than a cakewalk at 3-0 shortly afterwards that ultimately paved the way to Fran Kirby’s memorable late chip for an improbable, yet fully deserved, 4-0 win.

A victory that was to seal a Wembley date against Germany, as many of us knew in our hearts it simply would be.

So much has changed since that glorious summer of 2012. Women’s football has changed so much for the better in terms of support, not least through the sell-out crowds at Brighton and Sheffield and higher attendances, internationally and domestically.

In terms of facilities, many WSL teams are now “allowed” to play at the men’s home stadiums, rather than non-league grounds, that, while welcoming, offer nowhere near the same level of capacity — and opportunities for growth in attendances.

In terms of participants, I have stood on the touchlines through wind and rain watching my youngest daughter play week in, week out most Saturday mornings for eight seasons now.

And the rise in the numbers of players, the rise in the number of excellent coaches as well as the increase in quality of equipment and facilities has been as heartening as it has been exponential.

In terms of television coverage, the women’s game is finally at a tipping point. Wall-to-wall expert coverage on terrestrial TV by women for women is what has been needed for years, along with male allies such as Ian Wright banging the drum. No wonder nearly 10 million people watched England ease past Sweden.

In terms of media coverage, even at my lowly level, I have noticed a sharp rise in interest, and in stories.  When I first started covering Arsenal Women at Meadow Park for the local paper, men I knew would ask why. Now they ask where.

I don’t claim any credit for the growth in women’s football through covering the game at a time when not many others did. Why would I? All I’ve ever said is why wouldn’t you want to watch and report on women’s football? It’s always been such a great sport, peopled by talented players, reassuringly modest, despite world-class techniques.

The distress Leah Williamson, Beth Mead and so many others felt when long-time supporter of the women’s game Maria Petri sadly passed away last week was as genuine as it was heartfelt, underlining a real bond between fans of the women’s game and the players.

On a separate note, I’ve had the good fortune to interview Williamson a few times over the years, and she is intelligent, articulate, sharp, funny and perceptive.

If only some of the men were as interesting as Williamson and her teammates. No wonder so many are now coming to realise the fact they are such excellent role models.

In terms of wages, the increase in remuneration had to happen. Higher wages and sponsorship can finally allow young girls to dream of playing football as a career. Top-quality players don’t now need a second job to supplement their income.

When discussing England’s 6-2 defeat at the hands of Germany back in the 2009 final, Alex Scott underlined the fact that they were part-time players with full-time jobs away from the game — facing deadly professionals.

The women’s game at the top level now has a level playing field with which to take on the Germans.

Yes, there is still so much more to do — especially when a report this week revealed that only 44 per cent of schools offer girls the opportunity to play football. 44 per cent? An appallingly low total, which should have administrators and politicians hanging their heads in shame.

So let’s not start singing It’s Coming Home just yet — and not merely because it’s a tired, cliched, reductive dirge.

While we’re here, don’t get me started on Three Lions. The fact that people continue to bang the drum for this dreadful elegy to a lack of terrace creativity, nearly three decades on from its release — a song whose time has long since passed — is utterly baffling.

Thirty years of hurt? More like 52 years and counting, as the song segues to become as deeply unironic as Sweet Caroline — but with a lot less depth.

Dissenters offering a different opinion on such a tame topic as this song face a cultural straitjacket by those who prefer the faked warm embrace of a heated-up cliche.

I’d humbly suggest that if those who continue to bang the drum for this requiem to the continuing dearth of a vibrant fan culture in this country, instead channelled their feigned righteous indignation from dissenting voices towards Three Lions — and instead aimed a modicum of campaigning zeal towards fighting the lack of diversity currently in women’s football — then the world would be a better place.

But what do I know, I don’t even like Sweet Caroline, so I’ll be expecting a knock on the door from the thought police before kick-off, reminding me of my responsibilities before we set off for Wembley.

Ten years from London 2012, a lot has changed. A further decade of Tory rule has led this country to be a less creative, meaner, more divisive, angrier, far less tolerant place, where the gap between the haves and the have-nots in our society is larger than it has ever been.

Where a man who stood for principles was beaten at the last general election by a pathological liar who not only broke the ministerial code, but who was a serial adulterer — one whose Wikipedia page can’t even confirm how many children he has.

Where Tory lies and “sunlit uplands” actually resulted in 20-mile tailbacks at Dover and appallingly bad bureaucratic inefficiencies, where dreadful people who demanded closed borders now get offended when their borders are closed.

A decade’s worth of falsehoods have led us to a point where the challengers for the Tory leadership are not only disingenuous political pygmies, but unashamed liars too.

So let’s move from the dreadful Tories back to sport and concentrate on the football. The glorious Lionesses.

Because a lot has changed for the better over the last decade in the women’s game. Changed utterly.

No wonder I can’t wait for Sunday.