When the Data Lies
Most clubs in women’s football stop at 90%.
They scout. They analyze. They identify options. But when it’s time to decide—when the shortlist has to become a signing—they hesitate. They’re not unsure because they lack information. They’re unsure because they’re relying on information that can’t be trusted.
That’s the problem.
The data in women’s football is wrong.
Not incomplete. Not evolving.
Wrong.
Wyscout numbers? Men’s models applied to a different game. Opta metrics? Built off patterns that don’t exist in women’s structures. Positional definitions? Misaligned with how the women’s game is actually played. And it’s not a technicality—it’s a fundamental failure.
The sport is being evaluated through someone else’s lens.
So we stopped using that lens.
And we built a different one.
At QQSI, we work in the last 10%—the moment when decisions matter, and when conventional systems fall apart.
We adapted frameworks from special operations and intelligence not for effect, but for necessity. Because those systems are built to make decisions when the inputs are messy, the timelines are tight, and the cost of being wrong is real.
We didn’t borrow them because they sound sharp.
We use them because they work.
Find. Fix. Finish.
Find: We don’t surface players the algorithm already likes. We find the ones the algorithm was never built to see. Dual nationals. Developmental anomalies. Players whose value is buried in context the data ignores.
Fix: We isolate risk. We validate fit. We collapse shortlists. Our analysis doesn’t sit on spreadsheets—it sits in the reality of visa risk, psychological fit, eligibility frameworks, and the total impact a player will have on and off the pitch.
Finish: Where others send final reports, we deliver operational decisions. Designed for timing, for clarity, for action. Because that last step is where most clubs fail—and where we get it right.
But even that framework only works if you understand what the numbers can’t tell you.
And the truth is, in women’s football, the numbers often can’t tell you anything.
You can’t evaluate a player properly if the metrics are built from someone else’s game.
You can’t track progression if the league environment hasn’t stabilized.
You can’t predict output if the physical, social, and psychological inputs are all outside the dataset.
So we don’t pretend that data holds the answer.
We treat it like what it is: one source, often flawed, easily misleading.
We don’t ask, “What does the model say?”
We ask, “What’s true here?”
Sometimes the answer comes from conversation. Sometimes from cultural analysis. Sometimes from pathway modeling. Sometimes it’s in the gaps: what isn’t happening, what hasn’t developed yet, what opportunities the data was never trained to detect.
Because this isn’t just a sport still finding its data. It’s a sport that’s been failed by data.
And we won’t pretend otherwise.
So we go to the player.
We talk. We ask. We listen.
We learn what they want, what they fear, what they’re prepared for—not just physically, but emotionally, psychologically, and geographically.
Because no model captures the weight of a third-country visa application.
No dataset measures what it’s like to relocate for the fourth time in two years.
No spreadsheet can tell you how a player will handle isolation, or underinvestment, or the pressure to represent a country she’s never lived in.
And no trial day—when they even exist—is going to reveal the full story.
So we don’t wait for trials.
We build relationships.
We don’t just scout players. We know them.
And we don’t just serve clubs. We challenge them—on culture, on fit, on the long-term impact of short-term decisions.
The Last Mile isn’t just a phase.
It’s a test.
It asks: do you know what you’re doing? Are you acting with clarity—or relying on a system that was never built for you?
That’s why we created Special Projects—tight, discreet, outcome-driven engagements where we step in when the stakes are high and the timeline is short. No noise. No delay. Just precision.
That’s why we operate under the doctrine of Targeted Strategic Force—not reacting, not forecasting, but acting when the moment is right. With discipline. With restraint. And with full alignment.
Because this game is different.
Its data is wrong.
Its systems are incomplete.
Its structures are fragile.
But its people? The players? They’re not flawed. They’re not broken. They’re just being misread.
We don’t work to reinforce a broken model.
We work to replace it.
With frameworks that reflect how the women’s game actually works.
With methodologies that adapt to the lived reality of players and clubs.
With decisions that put the player first—not as a gesture, but as a principle.
Every assignment. Every project. Every conversation.
Because what we’re doing here—quietly, consistently, rigorously—is nothing less than rewriting how decisions get made in women’s football.
Not louder.
Just sharper.
Not faster.
Just truer.
And if you’ve ever sat at that table—when the budget is tight, the clock is ticking, and everyone’s looking at the same numbers with no idea what to trust—then you already understand why we exist.
Because when the data lies, someone still has to find the truth.
That’s what we do.