Vietnamese Football: A Journey from Darkness to Light

On a rainy afternoon in Busan, I sat in my usual coffee shop, rewatching old footage of Vietnamese football. More than a decade had passed since I left the dusty pitches of my homeland for the glamorous world of esports. But my heart has always been drawn back there, where football dreams never stopped burning. In the summer of 2026, when I was still a young reporter, I had the opportunity to watch a match in the Vietnamese Second Division. It was a match between Phu Dong FC and Binh Phuoc FC. No one thought this match would create a turning point for Vietnamese football. But it was here that I witnessed something miraculous: a young player wearing number 10, named Nguyen Van Toan, made ball-handling moves I had never seen in the lower division. He wasn't the fastest, wasn't the tallest, but every touch of the ball made a difference. I remember writing in my notebook: "Number 10, Phu Dong, excellent game reading ability, intelligent movement, but physical condition seems lacking." Three weeks later, I received a call from a scout at Hanoi FC. They wanted to know more about him. That was the moment I realized: Vietnamese football was changing. This change didn't come from one individual, but from an entire ecosystem that was gradually perfecting itself. Youth football academies sprouted like mushrooms after rain, from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City, from Da Nang to Can Tho. They didn't just teach technique, but also how to think, how to read the game, how to handle pressure. What we previously only saw in developed countries like South Korea and Japan, now appeared in Vietnam. However, this journey was not smooth. I remember in 2026, when the Vietnamese U23 team created a miracle at Changchun, the whole country erupted in joy. But few knew that behind that feat was a long, arduous process. I had the chance to talk with a young coach at the Vietnam Youth Football Training Center. He shared: "We don't have the best facilities, we don't have standard training grounds, but we have faith. Faith that one day, Vietnamese football will stand on the continental stage." And that faith was rewarded. From being just a filler team in regional tournaments, Vietnam has risen to become a force in Southeast Asia. Victories over Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia are no longer surprises. What's noteworthy is how we win: not through muscle strength, but through intelligence, discipline, and team spirit. But as I learned from my years following esports, success always comes with new challenges. Vietnamese football is facing a problem few mention: dependence on a golden generation of players. When Nguyen Quang Hai, Nguyen Cong Phuong, Doan Van Hau step past the peak of their careers, will we have enough successors? The answer lies in youth academies. I had the opportunity to visit the Hoang Anh Gia Lai - JMG Football Academy, which produced talents like Cong Phuong, Xuan Truong, Tuan Anh. But what interested me wasn't the established names, but the 13 and 14-year-old boys training there. Do they have adequate conditions to develop? Are they taught how to think, not just technique? The story of Vietnamese football is not just about victories, about trophies. It's a story of patience, of accepting failure to learn, of building from the roots rather than focusing only on immediate results. As I often say in my writings: "Every rough gem once lay still in the mud, waiting for a patient enough gaze." I believe Vietnamese football is on the right track. Not because we're winning more, but because we're building a stronger foundation. Youth tournaments are better organized, coaches are more professionally trained, and most importantly, young players are exposed to modern football philosophy from an early age. But gaps remain. The professional league system still has many shortcomings. Clubs still depend too much on sponsorship from wealthy patrons, lacking financial sustainability. I've seen this issue in both Korean football and the esports world. Without financial sustainability, there's no long-term development. Another issue I observed is the disparity between regions. While Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City have good development conditions, other provinces still face many difficulties. Young talents in remote areas often lack access to professional training environments. This is a major challenge Vietnamese football needs to address. Looking back at the journey, I can't help but feel emotional. From the early days with just a few professional clubs, Vietnamese football now has a complete league system from First Division to Third Division. From just a few players going abroad, many now play in foreign leagues. Each step forward is the result of relentless effort from countless people. I remember once, after a match at Hang Day Stadium, I sat alone in the empty stands. The stadium no longer had cheers, no waving flags. But in that quiet space, I felt something sacred: passion, the desire to rise, love for the round ball. An empty stadium doesn't erase the cheers – it just moves them into our memories. Vietnamese football stands at a historic crossroads. We can choose the safe path, maintaining our regional position. Or we can bravely step out into the world, accepting failure to learn, accepting difficulty to grow. I believe we will choose the second path, because that's the path Vietnamese football people have always chosen. From my early days in this profession, I learned: football belongs to no one, not even the storyteller. It belongs to those who love it, those who dedicate their lives to it. And I believe, with that love and dedication, Vietnamese football will continue to write glorious chapters. Every rough gem once lay still in the mud, waiting for a patient enough gaze. And I believe the gaze of Vietnamese fans has been, is, and will always be patient enough to wait for those gems to shine. Because a match lasts 90 minutes, but its story lasts a lifetime.