It all started when I was watching the FCM podcast on DR Sports—three young podcasters passionate about football, but with an obvious difference in how they approached the game. From a hosting perspective, Mayowa was doing a commendable job. From there, I’d discover that this same Mayowa Quadri wasn’t just a podcast host. He has been quietly reshaping the sports media landscape through his numerous accomplishments.
Mayowa Quadri is the Head of Brand at VERSUS, co-host of the FCM podcast, board member of the Sports Journalists’ Association, and co-founder of Chelsea’s Blue Creator Fund. But titles don’t capture what he does. He’s a conversationalist and a bridge builder, someone who understands that football is never just about what happens on the pitch.
“For me, football is more than football. We all love the sport, we all love watching these superheroes perform. But the love I always had for football was how it connected me to different things. Growing up watching Chelsea, seeing so many African players at Chelsea meant something to me. Or witnessing Arsenal field a starting 11 of nine Black players meant something to me. Football is bigger than just the sport. It’s a culturally significant pillar.”
The journey started with trying to play professionally. I was curious about his early days.
“When I was young, I enjoyed football and wanted to play football. I knew from a very young age, though, that I wasn’t as naturally gifted as other footballers. I had to work a lot harder. Even at a young age, I had a lot of injuries. Clubs took note of me, but I always knew that if I was going to make it, it was a miracle.”
Even then, the seeds were already there.
“Since I was young, I’ve always loved having conversations about sports. I would have debates with my friends in the playground. It’s always been a thing, but I didn’t know it was a job you could do. Funny enough, when I was younger, I wanted to be a physiotherapist because I was always treating myself with my injuries.”
The realisation came at university. He was still playing semi-professionally, consuming everything about the sport. But something was missing.
“All of the stuff I was consuming wasn’t representative of the culture. It wasn’t representative of conversations in the barber shops. So that’s when I started my first podcast with a few friends. The term I use is, “it doesn’t feel white, pale, male, and stale.””
After university, a graduate scheme at Eurostar was the safe expected route, but he freelanced on the side, taking every opportunity.
“Through networking, I was able to leverage opportunities. After a while, things were picking up, and I thought, if I don’t take the jump now, I will never take the jump.”
The pandemic changed everything. VERSUS was just an Instagram page, but Mayowa saw something bigger.
“I was writing for them, but I said, there’s so much more that can be done here. And then the rest became history. I joined full-time, and I haven’t looked back since.”
Before VERSUS, there was the podcast. FCM evolved from Stoppage Time.
“We initially were Stoppage Time, but when we were moving away from that platform, we had to change our name. It gave us a chance to rebrand. Stoppage Time was very football-focused, but FCM worked really well. Football Culture Movement. We’re discussing football, it’s by people from the culture, it’s a movement, and of course, it’s Fuad, Cams, and Mayowa.”
When I tell him it’s become a weekend staple for me, he’s appreciative. His favourite episodes are the Court Sessions.
“We’re not just a podcast; we are a show. We will bring the spectacle to life. Being able to perform while still maintaining football rigour was really important.”
At VERSUS, where he’s Head of Brand, the mission isn’t just about covering football differently. It’s about expanding who gets to be a football fan in the first place.
“The way we see the world is that football is a global language. It speaks to so many audiences. But typically, if you were to think of a football fan, this person would look exactly the same. Let’s say it’s a middle-aged man who watches football. But the truth is, football fans are beyond that. You can be an artist and be a football fan. You can be into dancing and be a football fan.”
He leans forward.
“What we’re trying to do is illustrate that football is bigger than football. It’s about the culture around football. We are rooted in football, but we will discuss football and fashion, football and culture, football and politics, because football has the ability to change society. You don’t have to be able to say who scored the goal in the Champions League final in 2008 to be a football fan. You could be a football fan because you love patterns in their kits. We’re trying to create a world where all of that is clearer than ever before.”
I ask about the captions, those perfectly crafted lines that accompany every Versus post. They’ve become as much a part of the brand as the content itself.
“It’s myself and my close teammate, Ahmed that do the majority of the caption writing. Sometimes there are a few inputs from a few people, but it’s mainly two people.”
The GOAT caption? “They said AI is taking jobs.” He laughs. “That was Alec, that was a masterline by Alic.”
VERSUS also speak up about societal issues. Football and fashion, football and culture – that’s the easier part. Versus also doesn’t shy away from difficult conversations. Black Lives Matter. Faith. Identity. Representation. I ask him why they lean into those topics.
“Footballers are human beings first and foremost. I think sometimes we get lost, forgetting that we are talking about people, and these people have things that mean a lot to them. During the Black Lives Matter movement after the killing of George Floyd, we spoke about how Black footballers reacted and how Black people could relate to it.”
It’s about creating space that hasn’t existed before.
“Everyone should be able to discuss their lived experience. A lot of players have not been comfortable doing that because the platforms don’t exist. I truly believe that football has the power to change the world. You can use it as a tool to have difficult conversations.”
On politics in football, his position is unwavering.
“A lot of people say politics should not be involved in football. But it’s impossible because football is a societal sport. If it’s being weaponised in a negative way, we should also be able to spread positivity and speak about things within it.”
Over the years, Mayowa has sat across from some of the biggest names in sport and culture. Colin Kaepernick, Lewis Hamilton, Ian Wright, etc. I’m curious whether any of them made him starstruck.
“When I go into these environments to interview someone, I’m trying to make the most comfortable environment for the person. I treat them as conversations rather than interviews. I’ve never really felt like, oh my gosh, this is it.”
He thinks for a moment, searching for exceptions.
“There was one time I went to Chelsea and saw Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink in the hospitality area. This is someone that I grew up watching. Another moment was when we were doing work for EA FC in Marseille at Zidane’s complex. David Beckham walked past, and it was like, oh, that’s David Beckham. And then Zidane came. Even though it shouldn’t be, David Beckham felt like he could be more accessible. But to see Zizou was like, wow, this is like a ghost.”
Working with Ian Wright on Wrighty’s House was different. Not just about broadcasting, but about how to move through the world.
“Wrighty is the true definition of life is to be lived. He’s just a pure heart. He would stop for everyone. Being around him as a broadcaster, his infectious energy, his ability to connect dots was second to none.”
Mayowa calls himself a conversationalist, not a journalist or interviewer. It’s a deliberate distinction. When I ask him what separates the two, his answer reveals why his approach works.
“The art of conversation is being able to listen. And there’s a difference between hearing and listening. Listening means being able to break down what’s being said, feed it back, and develop upon it. When there’s genuine interest in the person, you’re able to develop.”
He unpacks this further.
“I love to be in a place where nothing else in that moment is of importance. It’s about two people talking as if they’ve known each other for a long time. Once you get to that state, the level of depth and freedom you can go to completely shifts. Treating athletes like human beings means they probably want to hear about the person they’re speaking to, too.”
In 2023, Mayowa co-founded the Blue Creator Fund with Chelsea FC, born from a simple observation: his path was unconventional, and there had to be others who just needed a chance.
“My journey into sports media is very unconventional. I didn’t go to university to study this. I’ve just always had the inkling of communication, and I never knew it could be a career. The truth is, there are a lot of people like that who probably just need access or opportunity.”
Chelsea had been offering journalism scholarships. But when Mayowa was hosting an event for the club, he challenged them to think bigger.
“I gave them feedback that this is really good, but there’s so much more that can be done. Creativity is not linear. Anyone can be a creative. You can work in corporate and be a creative. Creative is an inkling, it’s a spirit, it’s a flow state.”
The question he posed was simple but radical: how do we support people with creative outlets who need help making something of it?
“That can be anything from someone who is a poet to a painter to someone who wants to make a community project. You’re all creatives in your own right. It’s not about making the next journalist. It’s about supporting people who have great ideas and creative endeavours.”
In the first year, they supported Jamaka, a filmmaker who made a critically acclaimed film about Chelsea’s relationship with racism, and Becky, an aspiring jewellery maker whose work caught Emma Hayes’ attention.
“It served as a really important industry moment because a lot of clubs started to look at it and say, well, how do we benefit the communities around us as well?”
As a British-Nigerian in predominantly white sports media spaces, representation isn’t abstract. It’s personal. When I ask how important it is to represent his heritage, there’s no hesitation.
“It is so important. For so long, there have been so many amazing stories not brought to the forefront based on our lived experience. I know the power of what that could mean to a young girl or boy looking on and realising that their journey has power. That’s why I’m adamant about always doing it. I’m very unapologetic about pushing that culture forward.”
Mayowa wears many hats. I ask how he manages it without burning out.
“A lot of it’s got to do with purpose. When you work in your purpose, you have this fire that keeps you going. I have an amazing support network. But everything I do feels like an extension of myself. It just feels like I’m being myself in every room.”
The awards have come. Community Culture and Corporate Sporting Icon Award. Football Blacklist Media Award. Nigerian UK Sports Award.
“I didn’t expect any of this, but I’m grateful because it means people recognise the bigger picture. I hope I can continue to add value, not because of awards, but because of the change the work can bring.”
I tell him about my journey as an instance for advice to anyone looking to get into sports media.
“The power of this thing here,” he says, raising his phone, “is so amazing. This is your podcast studio, it’s your lighting studio, it’s everything. I wrote a piece titled ‘Don’t Die Poor as a Creative.’ As a creative, your currency is ideas.”
The formula is simple.
“Think about what you’re passionate about. Write down ideas. All of that can be done through your phone. Then it’s consistency. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Don’t be afraid to share your stories. If you send an article or a video to 10 friends and they send it to 10 people, you have a reach of 100. That’s a baseline to start from”
For someone who’s built so much for others, 2026 is different.
“This year is the year of building IP. I’ve built a lot for people, but I’ve not built much for myself personally. I’ve started writing again. I’ll probably start doing content creation. I want to culturally archive the conversations I’ve had.”
He’s posting on Substack. The Instagram likes might be declining, but that’s not where the real engagement is.
“Social media is a facade. I’m enjoying the process. This year is about getting back to the essence.”
As we wrap up, he turns the conversation back to NoteSphere, to what we’re building.
“You guys have your pulse on the culture. And that’s the hardest thing to do. Anyone can say they want to set up a platform, but it’s very difficult to have your pulse on what’s going on because you can’t fake it. You have to live it and breathe it.”
Coming from someone I’ve admired since those FCM days, it means everything.
In an industry still dominated by voices that feel distant from the culture, Mayowa isn’t waiting for seats at the table. He’s building his own tables and making sure there’s room for everyone.
From semi-professional footballer to cultural conversationalist, Mayowa Quadri represents a shift in how the game is told. Because the most important stories in football aren’t always happening on the pitch, they’re unfolding in the spaces beyond the whistle.
