Sport was always a big part of Ferguson-Cook's childhood, whether it was kicking around a ball with her three brothers in the backyard or on the field. "I always played in the boys' team and I didn't have any real issues, but sometimes the opposition's parents would say something because I stood out." She stood out not only because she was a girl, but because she was the best player on the field. At 16, she was selected for the Matildas. On her own, she moved to Canberra where she lived and trained at the Australian Institute of Sport, while balancing her final years at school. Alicia Ferguson training at the Hyatt Gym in the back row with her Matildas teammates in 1999. Credit:Peter Wells

The team had only been given its name, the Matildas, four years earlier after being unofficially dubbed the Female Socceroos or the Soccerettes before that. A handful of people, usually family and friends of players, would attend the games and the team struggled to get media coverage of their matches. "I can remember calling up reporters, at SBS or ABC, begging them to cover our games. But nothing would happen," says Moya Dodd, who played for the Matildas from 1991 to 1995. It was in 1999 that the idea of a nude calendar was brought to the board by a freelance publisher. The Sydney Olympics were just around the corner and the federal government was pumping money into making Australian teams competitive. The Matildas were given a modest stipend to live on and their coaches were paid. But many had to retain part-time jobs to make ends meet.

Loading "In terms of what went into their pocket, it was very, very thin," says Maria Berry, who was also on the board of the now-defunct Australian Women's Soccer Association at the time. The calendar was to address two problems. First, funds. Then, recognition. Reid says there was an attitude among sport fans that female players weren't "real women". "The image of the female player up until then was portrayed as the butch character, or this idea that there's a woman playing a man's game, so are they real women?"

Alicia Ferguson making life uncomfortable for the German goalkeeper at the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. Credit:Kym Smith "People had never heard of the Matildas. 'Do women play soccer? What are they like?' The players were always very conscious of how much effort they were putting in, how little they were remunerated. They were still doing the thing they loved but just wanted a bit more appreciation," says Berry. It's important to recognise context, Berry says, as nude calendars were being used during the 1990s as a fundraising tool across the country and in the UK. The board went to great lengths to ensure the players were comfortable being involved and Berry supervised the photography shoots and vetoed suggestions she thought went too far. When the final images were released ... I was just totally shocked. It was so in your face. Heather Reid "You're always going to have a publisher who wants to push it too far, so there were photographs that I said 'no' to," she says.

"I can put my hand on my heart and say this was something that the players were happy to get on board with or if not, they chose not to be a part of it." A number of players opted out, for professional or personal reasons. Sacha Wainwright was one – 27 years old at the time, she was studying to become a lawyer alongside the team's rigorous training regime. "I ended up in New Idea as the girl who said no," she reflects. "My thinking about it was that I wanted women to be recognised as athletes and over-sexualising sport was something that didn't sit well with me." The star striker represented Australia 65 times and says she never felt pressured or stigmatised within the team for not being involved.

She says the calendar erred too close to porn and it wasn't the way she wanted the image of herself or her team to be promoted. Reid says when the final product came out, even some of the board members were shocked. "When the final images were released nobody really expected it to be so, I was just totally shocked. It was so in your face," she says. "It's full frontal nudity and that was one thing that certain members on the board were not really expecting. Heather Reid says she was shocked by the final product when the calendar was released. Credit:Jeffrey Chan "Instead of being a calendar that the girls could put on their walls, it attracted a much wider male audience, because of the images."

Some of the players contacted for this story declined to be interviewed. There was a feeling from some involved the team's success that followed was undermined by the spectacle of the calendar. And there was a sense of shame in that it took a sexualised image for the players to be noticed. The amount of money raised by the calendar sales remains unclear. Sports historian Lee McGowan describe the revenue received by the players as "pittance", but Ferguson-Cook says she bought her first car with the proceeds, though she admits it was a second-hand Ford. Reid and Berry say the association received little to no money and the debts left by the publisher contributed to the association's liquidation in 2002. Now a corporate lawyer, Wainwright says the interests of the players perhaps weren't well represented. "You had players who were in a vulnerable financial position thinking that if you earn $5000 from the calendar, that's amazing." Instead of being a calendar that the girls could put on their walls, it attracted a much wider male audience, because of the images. Heather Reid

But if the aim of the calendar was to get attention, it did. A second edition was printed by popular demand and Ferguson-Cook says the ongoing media interest translated into bums on seats. More fans were coming to the games. Players were asked to speak at events. Loading "You could get into a taxi anywhere in Australia and the driver would know who the Matildas were because of that calendar. That's what it took to get on the map," says Dodd. But former Matilda Tal Karp, who played in the 2003 World Cup and 2004 Olympic Games, says that the legacy of the calendar perhaps persisted for too long and became a hindrance to the team's ability to forge their own identity. "I remember reaching for a few local newspapers in Athens, Greece, in the lead up to our 2004 Olympic Games campaign and recall feeling pretty frustrated that the only coverage of the Matildas that I saw was of the calendar [from] five years earlier.

"I wanted our team to be recognised for our skill, strength and resilience on the field. Not for how the team looked without their gear on in 1999." Co-authors of Never Say Die: the hundred year overnight success of Australian women's football, McGowan and Fiona Crawford, say the upcoming World Cup in France is a chance to to reflect on how far the game has come. Decades of incremental improvements to funding culminated in a 2017 pay deal that sees players in the W-League receive a minimum payment of $12,200, while the highest-earning Australian female professionals can make at least $130,000 a year. Some who play in overseas leagues can earn much more. Social media and improved broadcast rights have increased visibility of the sport, bolstering the fan base for women's soccer and squashing discrimination within the industry. Sam Kerr is one of the best strikers in the world Credit:Louise Kennerley

"You might say that the overt sexism such as the trolling of [AFLW player] Tayla Harris is no longer being tolerated, with women and men alike and pushing back on it," says Crawford. Former Matilda Moya Dodd. Credit:Janie Barrett McGowan agrees, adding that the "Sam Kerr effect" has popularised the sport. Nike recently made Kerr – one of the best strikers in the world – the face of its Australian marketing campaign. "Sam's a brilliant player but has also been a stalwart for players' rights in the game. "This World Cup will be a tipping point, because if you can see it you can be it," he says.

But Dodd says there's still a long way to go. "The overall story of women's sport is that it's been suffocated and neglected and makes occasional bursts of progress but then suffers a backlash." Critics agree the final frontier is equality in off-field positions. "Arguably, the sexism that remains is less overt. For example, FIFA's appointment of Mark Schwarzer and Tim Cahill as [Women's World Cup] ambassadors, overlooking such female footballing greats as Julie Murray and Cheryl Salisbury," says Crawford. "The lack of awareness and the thoughtlessness of the people making such decisions is what needs to be tackled next."