Vietnamese Football: Between Regional Glory and the Question of Tactical Identity

There is a moment I still remember vividly. On a January night in 2026, Vietnam's U-23 team walked out for the final of the AFC U-23 Championship in Changzhou, China, under biting cold and snow that turned the sky white. The entire S-shaped strip of land stayed awake that night. But what made me — a man who writes about football — pause was not the silver medal. It was the way that team played: compact, disciplined, and above all, driven by a clear ideology.

That was the first time Vietnamese football was spoken of as a tactical phenomenon, rather than merely a small football nation in Southeast Asia. Years later, as the glow has faded, the real question still hangs in the air: what is the tactical identity of Vietnamese football, and is it being built or eroded?

In 2026, the Vietnam Football Federation appointed Park Hang-seo, a South Korean coach, to lead the national team. Few expected that decision to open a cycle of unprecedented success. Within a few years, Vietnamese football reaped a string of achievements: runners-up at the 2026 AFC U-23 Championship, the 2026 AFF Cup title after a ten-year wait, the quarter-finals of the 2026 Asian Cup, and SEA Games gold medals.

The peak was reaching the third round of Asian qualifying for the 2026 World Cup — a milestone no one had dared to dream of. Park Hang-seo's approach was hardly elaborate: tight defending, fast counter-attacks, and maximum use of set pieces. It suited the Vietnamese — small, agile, and hungry. But behind those victories, a question lingered: was Vietnamese football building a sustainable style, or merely squeezing the most out of a rare generation of talent?

Look closely at the data and the play on the pitch, and the picture is far more complex than the "will and desire" story the media usually tells.

First, Vietnamese football's success is tied tightly to foreign coaches. From Park Hang-seo to Philippe Troussier to Kim Sang-sik, almost the entire development cycle of the national team has been in foreign hands. This reveals a telling paradox: the country can produce players of continental calibre, but has yet to produce coaches capable of leading them. A football nation truly matures only when it can write its own philosophy, instead of renting one from abroad.

Second, the national team depends far too heavily on a small core. Nguyễn Quang Hải, Đỗ Hùng Dũng, Nguyễn Tiến Linh, Nguyễn Hoàng Đức — those names have appeared year after year. When they are absent or out of form, the team's frame immediately wobbles. That is the sign of a system without enough depth, where individual quality carries the load instead of collective structure.

Third — and this is the least discussed point — the quality of the domestic league. V.League 1 is regarded as Vietnamese football's top stage, but its infrastructure, youth development, and competitiveness remain far behind Asia's leading football nations. A national team cannot keep flying high if the foundation beneath it is not solid.

Based on my experience watching matches, I have noticed something interesting: when the stands are empty, listen to the ball instead of the shouting. In matches with few spectators, the coach's instructions, the sound of running feet, and even the players' breathing become clearer than ever. And it is in those moments that one can see whether Vietnam operates on instinct or on a system that has been forged.

In 2026, Philippe Troussier, a French coach who once led Japan, was appointed to replace Park Hang-seo. He brought a completely different philosophy: ball control, high pressing, and a proactive style. In theory, that is the path any football nation seeking to rise must travel.

But reality was harsh. Vietnam struggled to adapt to the new system. Defeats in 2026 World Cup qualifying, especially against Indonesia, cost Troussier his job in March 2026. That episode raises a big question: does Vietnamese football have enough patience to pursue a tactical revolution, or will it always be swept along by the pressure of immediate results?

Here is what I want to say plainly, even knowing it will irritate quite a few people: victories on the regional stage may be lulling Vietnamese football to sleep.

When the national team won the AFF Cup, the whole country celebrated. That was entirely deserved. But if we stop at the joy, we will miss an uncomfortable truth: Southeast Asia is no longer a sufficient yardstick for a football nation that wants to reach out to the continent. While Vietnam chases regional titles, opponents such as Japan, South Korea, Iran, or even Uzbekistan remain far ahead in structure, development, and tactical thinking.

More dangerously, winning repeatedly through a pragmatic style can create a habit of mind: prioritising immediate results over building a long-term foundation. Every time the team wins through a moment of individual brilliance, we gain another reason to postpone systemic reform. And a star is never bigger than the team, whatever that star's name may be.

I do not deny the value of those victories. I write uncomfortable things so that comfortable people are forced to re-read the match. But I believe a mature football nation must distinguish between winning a match and building a legacy.

Another aspect rarely discussed is the growing role of naturalised players. The emergence of figures such as Nguyễn Xuân Son — a Brazil-born striker — gave the national team's attack a scoring option that domestic football had failed to produce for years. This raises a painful question: if we must rely on external resources to solve the centre-forward problem, where exactly is our youth development going wrong?

Kim Sang-sik's return, along with the 2026 ASEAN Championship title, has somewhat eased the doubts. This South Korean coach brought a balance of pragmatism and discipline, helping the team regain its confidence. But once again, we must stay clear-headed: winning on the regional stage does not mean the structural problems have been solved.

What is worrying is the mindset of "immediate results". Every time the team fails, the public's first reaction is usually to demand a new coach, new players, and rarely to ask questions about the system. We keep changing people, but seldom change the way we think. A football nation cannot progress if it keeps rotating personnel while keeping the same mindset.

Look at Japan: it took decades to build a philosophy that runs from school football to the national team. South Korea is the same. Vietnamese football is at a fertile stage in terms of its player generation, but if it does not seize this moment to lay the foundation, it will lose a golden opportunity.

As an observer, I have always believed the most important thing is not how many matches a team wins, but how it wins and whether that way of winning can be repeated. Vietnamese football has proven it can create historic moments. The remaining question is whether it can turn those moments into a standard.

If we look at how Vietnam's youth teams have performed in recent Asian competitions, there are positive signs: better individual technique, improved fitness, and a gradually more modern tactical mindset. But the gap between potential and achievement at senior level remains, and it cannot be filled by belief alone.

Of course, I may be wrong. Perhaps these concerns about tactical identity are just the excessive pessimism of a man whose profession has trained him to look at the dark side. But I would rather ask hard questions now, while Vietnamese football is at its peak, than regret them later.

So where does Vietnamese football go from here? I believe that in the coming years, the greatest pressure will not come from regional rivals, but from within: the ability to convert the current generation's success into a sustainable system. If the Vietnam Football Federation and the clubs invest seriously in youth development, upgrade the V.League, and — more importantly — build a tactical philosophy that runs from the youth teams to the senior side, Vietnamese football can genuinely go further. If not, we will remain a strong team on the regional stage, but always short of breath when stepping onto the continental arena.

This is a judgment I am ready to stand behind. Because football is decided not only by what happens in ninety minutes on the pitch, but also by what we choose to build over decades.