It’s time to finish the job at Princes Park

On that February night in 2017, when Carlton and Collingwood opened the very first AFL Women's season, Princes Park – or Ikon Park, as the sponsors prefer – was bursting at the seams. Just under 23,000 fans jammed into the old suburban ground.

Thousands more were turned away at the gates. That night remains one of the great moments in the short but powerful history of AFLW.

It wasn't just the start of a new league. It felt like a revival.

Since then, the competition has not only changed the face of football but also brought new life to the old suburban ovals that once defined our game. Whitten Oval, Victoria Park,+ Windy Hill, Moorabbin, Arden Street, Punt Road – places that had faded into memory or community use have found a second wind. These grounds have become cultural landmarks again, connecting generations and giving fans a more authentic, grassroots experience.

But not everything that's come out of the AFLW era has been handled with the same care or foresight. Princes Park, the league's supposed “home of women's football”, is one of those half-baked jobs that makes you wonder who exactly they were building for.

After that historic opening night, funding came through to modernise the venue. The upgrades included light towers, a big video screen and new facilities – all things the late former Carlton President John Elliott had been banging on about in the mid-1990s.

Back then, local residents were horrified at the prospect of a footy ground daring to look like a footy ground, and most of those plans were shelved. Fast forward two decades, and the upgrades finally happened: but only halfway.

The old Richard Pratt (formerly Hawthorn) Stand on the outer wing was demolished and replaced by a sleek training facility, a gym and a function space. Great for the club's internal use, sure. But for spectators? A few rows of open-air seating with no roof, no shade and no real protection from Melbourne's mood swings.

The Gardiner Stand – heritage-listed and historically beautiful – has been closed to the public for a number of years now.

The John Elliott Stand, or “Heroes Stand” as it's now called, still operates but is in dire need of a facelift. The seats are dirty, the paint's tired and the vibe is more municipal office than “heart of women's football”.

The Heatley (later Harris) Stand – once an iconic part of the ground – is long gone, replaced by a grey training complex that looks like it was designed during the Cold War. No doubt the facilities inside are high-end, but from a fan's point of view there's nothing to love.

And then there's the Legends Stand. The once-jewel in the crown of the arrogant Carlton Football Club of the late 20th century. The stand that was meant to secure Carlton's future at the ground ended up accelerating its demise.

When it opened in 1997 under the “Optus Oval” rebrand, Carlton's administration fancied itself as running a boutique, high-end venue – and priced it like one. The problem was, the product didn't match the price. The stand was built too far from the boundary, faced directly into the sun, and created a weird, hollow viewing experience. It lacked the intimacy of suburban footy but had none of the grandeur of a major stadium. Yet Carlton charged premium prices as if it were in the Medallian Club.

Fans voted with their feet. Attendance fell, atmosphere suffered, and by the early 2000s, Princes Park was effectively on death row as a home-and-away venue. The arrogance of Carlton management – believing supporters would pay top dollar to sit in a second-rate stand – killed the joint. It's one of the most short-sighted episodes in AFL venue history. And incredibly, nearly three decades later, we're still stuck with the same flawed structure fronting the so-called “home of women's football.”

For a ground with that much history, it's a let-down.

Now, as the talk again turns to where the AFLW Grand Final should be played, the idea of shifting it to Marvel Stadium keeps resurfacing. It's a conversation that refuses to die. Pioneering AFLW star turned one of the best commentators in the game, Kate McCarthy, has been among those calling for a bigger stage, describing the decision to keep the decider at Ikon Park as “a real lack of ambition.”

“Is that not playing the game at Marvel?” she asked on Channel 7's Talking W program.

“Would we not see better football regardless of weather, regardless of conditions?”

And yet the alternative is not so simple. As AFLW boss Emma Moore has pointed out, the Grand Final will only be moved to Marvel when the league is confident of it selling out.

Here's the context that matters: the last two AFLW Grand Finals have been held at Princes Park capacity crowds – just under 13,000 fans both years.

That sell-out status gives the league plenty of optics to say “we created demand” and “we filled it”. But because the venue's capacity is limited by the half-done renovation, it also cuts off potential growth, and puts pressure on what could have been a proper stadium final.

That brings me back to the core question: why was the redevelopment of Princes Park only half-done? When your posture invites the women's competition to make this your showpiece venue, you either invest fully in the spectator experience or you don't. It feels like Carlton and the AFL got comfortable with “good enough for training, good enough for women's footy” rather than “world-class for fans”. The gym, the corporate boxes, the training centre – they got built. The roof-over-seating, the heritage stand refurbishment, the terraces for 12,000+ fans – those got left on the drawing board.

Unless the AFL is willing to make Marvel the permanent Grand Final venue – the same way the MCG is for the men – it simply won't work. The Docklands calendar is packed with concerts, cricket and corporate events.

If the women's Grand Final isn't treated as a standalone, top-priority event, it'll always feel like it's been shuffled around.

And besides, a half-full Marvel Stadium is no one's idea of a spectacle. A 20,000-strong crowd at Princes Park would feel electric. The same number scattered through a 50,000-seat dome feels flat.

Anyone who's been to small events at big venues knows how they operate – they section off levels, dim the lights, keep the bars half-open, and cut costs wherever possible. It's not a grand final atmosphere – it's a warehouse gig with goal-posts, and North Melbourne (the Women's competitions outright leader) fans know that experience a bit too well.

That's why finishing the job at Princes Park matters. The AFL and Carlton have already branded it as the home of women's football.

Now they have to make it feel like one. Restore the Gardiner Stand with the respect it deserves – it's a genuine piece of Victorian sporting architecture and could easily be reimagined as a boutique grandstand for fans. Give the Elliott/Heroes Stand a deep clean, a repaint, and a sense of purpose. Maybe even bring back some undercover areas, some grass hills or standing terraces. Bring the people closer to the game again.

What made that 2017 lockout so special wasn't the lights or the scoreboard. It was the atmosphere – the crush of the crowd, the chants, the energy of seeing something new built on something old. The ground had character that night. Since then, some of that character has been stripped away, replaced with sterile “high-performance” boxes that look great on brochures but leave fans sitting in the sun with nothing more than a lukewarm can of Great Northern midstrength for comfort.

Princes Park still matters. It's the heart of Carlton, hosts every level of footy bar the men's AFL and is the symbolic home of AFLW. But in its current state, it's neither here nor there – a half-finished project that deserves better.

If the AFL wants to truly invest in women's football, it's not just about pathways, pay or marketing. It's about giving the competition a home worthy of its significance. A proper, welcoming, well-designed venue that reflects the soul of the game and the people who come to watch it.

Because at the moment, Princes Park looks like a training facility that occasionally hosts matches. It deserves to feel like a football ground again.

Finish the job.