Building What She Needed: Nana Olavuo and the Infrastructure Revolution in Women's Tackle Football

After 18 years proving girls can play football, Anastasia "Nana" Olavuo spent a week in London learning how institutions build what she's been creating alone

Nana Olavuo stood on the sidelines at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium last week watching sixty-eight teenagers from twenty countries run through drills under NFL Academy coaching. The players wore matching gear provided by the league. They trained at Loughborough University, one of Europe's premier athletic facilities. They had clear pathways: perform well enough here and American college programs offer scholarships. Perform well enough there and professional opportunities emerge. The infrastructure existed to carry them forward.

Olavuo is twenty-four years old. She has played American football for eighteen years across five countries. She is a European champion, a WFA All-Star, and the first woman to coach a men's Vaahteraliiga team in Finnish history. Next month she will return to her job selling gym memberships in Finland to save enough money to afford six months of groceries in Kansas City, where she plays professional football for the WNFC's Kansas City Glory without salary. No one carried her forward. She built her own path, which is why the NFL invited her to London—not to play, but to observe how pathways get designed when institutions decide to invest.

"My path for next year has been clear," Olavuo said from London, "so if anything, being in those rooms working closely with NFL watching the Academy on the sidelines and then NFL celebrity flag game and other events, it's definitely inspiring me seeing how many paths there are in this sport for my future." She did not go to London seeking her next contract. She went learning how the machinery works. After nearly two decades fighting for one specific path—elite playing career despite every structural obstacle—she spent a week studying how different the journey looks when someone else builds the road.

The NFL Academy represents what did not exist when Olavuo started playing at age six in Espoo, Finland. Her brother's practices looked fun. She wanted to join. The only option was playing with boys because Finnish girls' football infrastructure barely existed. She played in boys leagues until age sixteen, when Finnish rules required her to transition to women's competition or quit. Espoo had no women's team. She moved to Helsinki Roosters, becoming the youngest player on the roster. At sixteen she was already the new person figuring out how to find a place in an established system—a pattern that would repeat across countries and leagues for the next eight years.

Sweden came next. She won a Swedish championship in 2019 and earned a small amount of actual payment for playing, rare in women's tackle football. That same year she won the European Championship final in Leeds with Finland's national team. Then her knees betrayed her. Multiple surgeries followed. The 2022 WFA All-Star game invitation came while she played for DC Divas, where she led the team in tackles. The All-Star game should have been celebration. Instead she suffered an injury that kept her out of the World Championships in Vantaa, Finland—home country, home field, the exact moment when everyone she'd grown up with would see her compete at the highest level. She watched from somewhere else instead.

The injury forced a two-year absence from competitive play. She went to Spain in late 2021, initially negotiating a coaching position with Barberà del Vallès Rookies. Then her body healed enough to play again. She signed as both player and coach—defensive back coach, defensive coordinator alongside Swedish import Ida Handel, assistant on the offensive side for wide receivers and running backs. She ran four rushing touchdowns during the regular season. The team went undefeated and reached the championship final. She had not played competitively since the 2019 European Championship in Leeds. Spain was her return, and she did it while teaching others.

In 2021, before Spain, she became the first woman on a Finnish men's Vaahteraliiga coaching staff. Wasa Royals hired her as an assistant coach at age twenty. The significance of breaking that barrier would take time to fully register. She was simply doing what seemed logical—she understood the game from eighteen years of playing it, much of that time studying how to function in systems designed for male athletes. Coaching forced systematic thinking about how individual roles create collective success. Playing taught her to execute within systems. Coaching taught her to build them.

The American journey began in 2020 with a phone call from rapper Ja Rule, who owned the New York Stars in a new women's professional league called WFLA. Olavuo was driving to practice when her phone rang. The league never launched. She eventually signed with DC Divas in the established WFA, where she became the team's top tackler before the All-Star selection and subsequent injury. After rehabilitation she switched to Houston Mambas in the newer WNFC league for 2023. The WNFC operated "much more professionally" according to Olavuo, with higher competitive standards and stricter organizational requirements. She moved to Kansas City Glory for the 2024 season. Her teammate and best friend Ida Handel came with her, the Swedish player she'd coached alongside in Spain. Tiia Jansen from Turku Trojans joined them. The three share an apartment and a car in Kansas City.

Every fall Olavuo returns to Finland to work. She sells gym memberships. She creates advertisements for the fitness center. She pursues social media sponsorship deals. She handles visa paperwork for the United States, where her authorization does not permit employment. She spends autumn accumulating enough savings to cover six months of basic expenses—primarily food—while the Glory covers housing and playing-related costs. In January she returns to Kansas City and the money begins depleting. "This is still quite expensive hobby," she said in a Finnish interview earlier this year. "Just six months of food costs are quite large."

The financial model is not sustainable indefinitely. Something eventually breaks—the body, the bank account, or the willingness to maintain the oscillation between working for money and spending it to compete. Olavuo knows this. She does not avoid the calculation. "You always want to make a lot of plays, get nominated for awards, make first team all-pro and win a championship, and those are all personal goals for me," she said. "But football is a team sport and it comes down to having a team full of players doing their one on eleven, without thinking about their personal goals."

She describes what she chases on the field with precision that reveals how she thinks about the sport beyond her own participation. "I'm chasing the feeling of knowing the ten other players on the field with me are on the same time as me, and that I can trust them to do their job and know that we can compete against the best of the best and come out on top because we put aside our pride and personal goals and do it for each other." This is a coach's answer. A competitor focuses on personal performance. A coach focuses on how individual commitments create collective capability. She plays as an elite competitor while thinking like someone designing systems.

Her social media presence reflects the same duality. When eight-year-old Elena Easley's mother posted a video in March 2025 showing her daughter in tears after classmates told her "girls can't play football," the response went viral. Olavuo saw the post, contacted the family immediately, and invited Elena to Kansas City Glory's home opener. She organized a private tour of the Kansas City Chiefs stadium through her NFL contacts. The story generated millions of views and national media coverage including Fox News. A GoFundMe campaign raised over eight thousand dollars to bring Elena's family from Minnesota to Kansas City. The additional funds went to Kansas City Glory.

The media framed this as Olavuo stepping into an advocacy role. That misunderstands what happened. "I've had girls and women reaching out to me before the Elena news broke, just off of coming across my social media," Olavuo explained, "but that obviously brought even more. Football isn't just about competition for me. As much as I love competing, the goal is to grow the sport and help girls find their way to football and be able to do what they enjoy doing, so there's a reason I've been big on social media for years already."

She built the platform deliberately over years specifically for this purpose. The Elena moment was amplification of existing work, not a turning point. "It's an everyday battle for a lot of girls," Olavuo said, "so it was great to get Elena's story out there for people to see that and learn about the opportunities." Every response she makes to young players, every social media post about training or competition, every interview about the financial realities of women's professional football—these constitute daily infrastructure work. She creates visibility so the next generation encounters fewer obstacles than she did.

The challenge is that individual visibility, no matter how effectively deployed, cannot replace institutional infrastructure. One player can prove the path exists. One player cannot build the road. This is why London mattered. The NFL Academy model demonstrates what systematic investment produces—facilities, coaching, clear progression, scholarships to American universities, professional pathway development. Olavuo has been doing this work informally through social media and personal mentorship. London showed her how it works when institutions commit resources.

"NFL Academy is definitely something I can get behind," she said, "giving back to the community and helping kids in Europe be set for US college football." She understands the model because she has been living a bootstrap version of it—helping European players understand American opportunities, explaining how college recruitment works, demonstrating through her own continued competition that the pathway remains viable even without institutional support. The difference is she does this while working gym sales to afford groceries. The NFL Academy operates with league backing.

The week in London included more than the Academy game. Olavuo attended the NFL celebrity flag football game. She networked with NFL players, broadcasters, and league officials. "Being around NFL players, celebrities, broadcasters etc inspires me because everybody has such different stories but have somehow ended up in the same room," she said. The diversity of trajectories confirmed what her own career already taught her—there is no single path in this sport. Everyone improvises. The critical variable is whether you improvise with institutional support or without it.

She has spent eighteen years in the latter category while building credentials that now grant access to the former. European champion. WFA All-Star. First female coach in Finnish men's top league. Four seasons of American professional play. Coaching experience across three countries. Fluency in Finnish and English. Cultural literacy spanning European and American football systems. She understands how to operate in under-resourced environments because she has never operated in any other kind. This expertise has value to institutions trying to expand internationally.

The women's professional football landscape in the United States remains fractured. Two main leagues exist—the Women's Football Alliance and the Women's National Football Conference. Olavuo has played in both. She understands their operational differences and their political tensions. When asked what she would tell NFL decision-makers about investing in women's tackle football, her answer carried the authority of someone who has actually discussed this with people in those rooms.

"I don't think me sitting down with the NFL decision makers would make a difference until women's football as a whole gets on the same page," she said. "It isn't about NFL having to decide who to support, it's about us needing to be on the same page and NFL supporting a common goal which would be women's football in general." She does not blame the NFL for withholding investment. She recognizes the political impossibility of choosing between competing leagues. The women's football community must consolidate before institutional investment becomes feasible.

But she adds a harder truth. "However even if the leagues merged, I don't see NFL jumping on anytime soon yet, because the focus is on flag right now. They're investing in flag to build that first, but hopefully women's tackle is next." The NFL has made its priority clear—flag football development offers faster international growth with lower injury risk and simpler logistics. Women's tackle football must wait. Olavuo does not argue with this strategy. She accepts it as current reality while positioning herself to be relevant when priorities shift.

"I can't say whether I'll still be playing then but obviously that would be great, however I'm here to help the next generation get there even after I'm done playing." This sentence contains the entire transition. She has already begun thinking past active competition. The question is no longer whether she stops playing but when, and what she builds next. London provided one possible answer—institutional pathway development using her eighteen years of experience navigating systems that did not want her.

The geographic fracture of her life creates its own pressure toward change. "Moving around has definitely changed my view in what 'home' is," she said. "It's definitely hard moving around every six months and always being the 'new person' but my experience abroad has been great every year and I've always found my place in each place and team very quickly." She integrates easily, which creates its own problem. Success at belonging everywhere means fully belonging nowhere.

"But I think that's what makes it harder because now I have so many places I miss people and things from, that it's harder to feel at home anywhere anymore." She has community in Finland, Sweden, Spain, Kansas City. She has relationships and memories distributed across five countries that cannot be reassembled in one location. The six-month oscillation between Finland and the United States prevents deep roots in either place. She works in Finland to earn money to spend in America to compete. Then the cycle repeats. Eventually the fragmentation becomes unsustainable.

A more institutionally stable role could allow geographic consolidation while maintaining international connection. The NFL Academy model operates from a fixed location in Loughborough, England while serving players from twenty countries. Coaches stay. Players rotate through. Someone in Olavuo's position could build community in one place while contributing to pathway development for athletes from many places. She would not need to keep fragmenting herself across continents to remain useful.

She has not decided this yet. She remains an active competitor at the highest level she can access. Kansas City Glory competes in the WNFC, which she considers more professional and competitive than the WFA. She plays defensive back and coaches linebackers. She studies opponents, prepares for games, executes her defensive assignments with the precision that made her a WFA All-Star. She is not retiring. She is mapping.

The London trip revealed how many different ways a football career can be built beyond playing. The NFL Academy model is one. Broadcasting is another—she spent time with NFL media personalities. Coaching is a third, and she has been developing those credentials for four years across three countries and both genders. Sports administration is a fourth—she now understands how leagues operate, what consolidation would require, why institutional investment follows certain patterns. She has options. The question is timing.

She continues working gym sales in Finland each fall because playing maintains her credibility. Every game she plays makes her advocacy more believable to young girls encountering the same "you can't play" messages she heard at age six and still hears at age twenty-four. Every season she completes proves the pathway remains viable even when institutions do not support it. Her continued competition is not stubbornness. It is strategic—she needs the playing credentials to validate the teaching credentials she is building toward.

But strategy has costs. The knees that required multiple surgeries will not last forever. The bank account depletes every spring. The six-month migrations prevent the kind of relationship stability that might provide emotional grounding. She has Ida Handel, her Swedish teammate and close friend who has played with her across multiple countries. She has Tiia Jansen from Finland sharing their Kansas City apartment. She has community. But community fragments when everyone returns to their home countries in the off-season and the cycle starts again.

At some point the math stops working. The body breaks, or the money runs out, or the emotional cost of perpetual fragmentation exceeds the value of continued competition. Olavuo knows this. She does not avoid the calculation. She simply has not yet reached the number that makes her stop. "What's the number in your head where you'd say 'I can't do this anymore'? Or is there no number?" The question acknowledges both the financial precarity and the possibility that no amount of hardship would make her quit something she considers purposeful.

Her answer to what she needs from a final season reveals how she thinks about satisfaction. Not statistics. Not awards. Not even championships, though those remain goals. "I'm chasing the feeling of knowing the ten other players on the field with me are on the same time as me, and that I can trust them to do their job and know that we can compete against the best of the best and come out on top because we put aside our pride and personal goals and do it for each other."

She wants to experience complete collective trust one more time at the highest level before transition. Eleven players executing their roles with absolute confidence in the other ten. She keeps searching for this across teams and leagues. Kansas City Glory this season. Houston Mambas before that. DC Divas before that. She auditions teams as much as they evaluate her. Does this roster have players who want it enough? Will they subordinate individual goals to collective success? She needs to find that once more, fully experience it, before moving to the next phase where she teaches others how to create it.

This is why she coaches while playing. Coaching forces systematic thinking about how individual discipline creates team capability. She cannot just feel it on the field anymore. She must be able to explain it, diagram it, teach younger players how to build the culture she wants to play in. If she cannot find that culture, she will need to know how to create it. That knowledge transfers directly to institutional pathway development—teaching young players not just technique but how to function within high-trust team systems.

The London trip positioned her for that transition without forcing it. She observed. She networked. She studied how the NFL actually builds pathways when it decides to invest. She met the people who design these systems. She demonstrated her own expertise—eighteen years of navigating obstacles, four years of coaching experience, fluency across European and American football cultures, proven ability to activate audiences through social media, institutional literacy about league operations and consolidation challenges.

She did not ask for a job. She established credibility for when she decides she wants one. The difference matters. Olavuo has spent eighteen years proving she belongs in spaces that did not initially want her. She does not ask permission anymore. She builds credentials until institutions recognize her value and make offers. The London invitation came because the NFL saw her work and decided she had something to contribute. Future opportunities will emerge the same way—through demonstrated competence rather than petition.

For now she returns to Finland to work gym sales. She will handle visa paperwork for the United States. She will save money for six months of groceries. In January she will return to Kansas City Glory for another season of professional football without salary. She will play defensive back. She will coach linebackers. She will post on social media so young girls see that someone is still doing this. She will respond to messages from teenagers who need to know the path exists.

And she will keep mapping. Every conversation with NFL officials. Every observation of how institutional infrastructure operates. Every coaching session where she learns to teach what she already knows how to execute. Every season she continues competing adds credibility to the next phase. She has not decided when to stop playing. But she spent a week in London learning what comes after proving, and the answer is building—systematically, institutionally, with resources instead of against their absence.

She is twenty-four years old with eighteen years in the sport. She has time. The knees will eventually decide the timeline, or the bank account will, or she will simply recognize that the most effective way to accomplish what she is trying to do no longer requires weekly collisions with defensive backs who outweigh her. Until then she competes, she coaches, she saves money, she maps pathways, and she waits for institutions to finish designing the infrastructure she has been building alone since age six.

The NFL Academy exists now. It did not exist when she started. Perhaps by the time she finishes playing, women's tackle football will have similar institutional support. Perhaps she will help design it. She spent a week in London learning how. Next month she returns to selling gym memberships so she can afford to keep playing long enough to learn the rest.