Is Vietnamese Football Fooling Itself with Friendly Match Victories?

At My Dinh Stadium, October 15, 2026. The final whistle blew, the score 2-1 in favor of Vietnam against India. The stands erupted in celebration. But I – someone who has sat in the press box for 4 years – cannot help but ask: what are we really celebrating? Look at the numbers. Vietnam held 58% possession, took 14 shots, but only 4 on target. India – ranked 117th in the world – had 9 shots with 5 on target. They created more dangerous chances than us on a pitch where we were considered the home team. This victory, if you look closely, is no different from what we did under coach Park Hang-seo: harmless ball control, relying on individual moments to decide the match. I remember the night of June 27, 2026 in Rostov-on-Don, when South Korea defeated defending champions Germany 2-0 with just 26% possession and 3 shots on target. That was a victory of tactical humility, of understanding who you are. But tonight, Vietnam had more possession but didn't create a real difference. We are playing the football of the strong while still being the weak. The context needs to be clarified. Since coach Philippe Troussier took over in May 2026, the Vietnamese national team has played 15 official and friendly matches. Record: 7 wins, 3 draws, 5 losses. On the surface, a 46.7% win rate seems acceptable. But dig deeper. Of the 7 wins, 4 were against teams ranked below 100 FIFA (Laos, Indonesia, Philippines, India). Only 1 win against a team in the top 80 – that was against Palestine (ranked 96) in June 2026. The rest were draws and losses against more formidable opponents: Iraq (0-1 loss), Uzbekistan (0-2 loss), South Korea (0-6 loss), Japan (0-2 loss). Data from the VangBong.vn Player Depth Index shows the Vietnamese national team lacks depth in the central midfield position. This index – measuring the quality of backup players compared to the starting lineup – for Vietnam is only 0.62, significantly lower than Thailand (0.78) and Indonesia (0.71). This explains why every time Hoang Duc or Nguyen Quang Hai suffers an injury or is neutralized, the team's play nearly collapses completely. I watched 87 K League matches in the 2026 and 2026 seasons when the pandemic forced stadiums to close. I discovered that the home win rate dropped from 44.2% to 33.1% when stands were empty. The lesson I learned: home ground is not a fortress if the team doesn't have a clear tactical identity. My Dinh is still crowded today, but our home advantage is fading because we don't know who we are on the pitch. The core of the problem lies in Troussier's philosophy. He wants to apply a possession-based, high-pressing style – the modern football he succeeded with for Japan's U19 in 2026. But there's a fundamental difference: Japan's players then were already playing in the J-League with superior technical and physical foundations. Vietnam currently, according to data I collected from 2026 World Cup qualifiers, has only 3 players regularly playing the position they were trained for at their clubs. The rest must adapt to new roles – a terrible waste of talent. Look at how Thailand operates. They don't try to play perfect possession football. They play pragmatic football: tight defense, fast transitions, maximizing moments. Chanathip Songkrasin doesn't need to touch the ball 100 times per match – he only needs 20 quality touches. That's the difference between controlling the ball and controlling the match. I could be wrong. Maybe Troussier is building a long-term foundation whose results we haven't seen yet. Maybe the losses to Japan and South Korea are the price of transition. But I've heard this argument too many times. From coach Alfred Riedl in 2026, to Henrique Calisto in 2026, then Park Hang-seo in 2026. Each promised a philosophy, a vision. And each time, we end up with the same result: failure at the most important moments. Data from Vietnam's last 20 matches shows a worrying pattern. In the first 10 matches under Troussier, the team scored an average of 1.8 goals per match. In the last 10 matches, this dropped to 1.1 goals. Meanwhile, goals conceded increased from 0.9 to 1.4 per match. A clear downward trend, despite facing weaker opponents in recent friendlies. What's happening? I believe the problem lies in the ambiguity of player roles. Troussier requires defenders to participate in ball circulation, but our center-backs – accustomed to zonal defending – lack the short-passing skills under pressure. The result: misplaced passes, dangerous turnovers right in front of our own box. In the match against Iraq in World Cup qualifying, we lost the ball 23 times in our own third – the highest among 12 teams in the Asian qualifying round. Empty stadiums during the pandemic exposed what the stands once hid. Without the roar, I could hear the coaches' shouts, the instructions lost in the noise of the match. And I realized that many teams – including the national team – operate without a clear system. They rely on individual inspiration, on moments, on luck. That's not sustainable. Euro 2026 taught me that the most mocked person often holds the truth. When I wrote criticizing coach Kim Hak-bum's overuse of over-age slots at the Tokyo Olympics, I was called a troublemaker by the Korean online community. But after South Korea lost 3-6 to Mexico, people began to understand I was right. Similarly, when I say Vietnam is fooling itself with friendly match victories, I know I'll be criticized. But I've seen this pattern too many times. Look at history. Vietnam won the 2026 AFF Cup with a defensive counter-attacking style under Park Hang-seo. We beat Malaysia in the final 3-2 over two legs, but had only 41% possession in the second leg. We won because we knew we were weaker and played to our strengths. But now, we're trying to play like a big team while still being a small team. That's a recipe for failure. I don't deny the talent of the current generation. Nguyen Hoang Duc, Nguyen Tien Linh, Pham Tuan Hai – they are all excellent players. But individual talent cannot replace a suitable tactical system. And Troussier's system, however well-intentioned, doesn't fit the player material we have. A team doesn't collapse on a fateful night; it rots away in silence long before. The rotting of Vietnamese football didn't come from the 0-6 loss to South Korea. It came from easy friendly wins against weak teams, where we convinced ourselves everything was on track. It came from short training camps where there wasn't enough time to build chemistry. It came from our unwillingness to face the truth that we're falling behind Thailand and Indonesia in squad depth. Fans worship legends, but forget that legends only survive through verification. The Park Hang-seo legend was verified through big matches: AFF Cup finals, 2026 Asian Cup quarterfinals, World Cup qualifying. And Troussier? He hasn't had a truly big match to prove his philosophy. And I fear that when the big match comes – perhaps AFF Cup 2026 or 2027 Asian Cup qualifying – we'll fail again and wonder why. The cup is only heavy when you dare to carry a belief no one supports. I believe Vietnamese football needs a revolution in thinking. We need to stop comparing ourselves to Japan, South Korea, or even Thailand. We need to find our own path – one that fits our physique, technique, and football culture. Maybe it's the defensive counter-attacking style of the Park era. Maybe it's a different style we haven't discovered. But it's certainly not a pale copy of European football we don't have the conditions to pursue. I will closely follow AFF Cup 2026. That will be the real test for Troussier and his philosophy. If Vietnam wins with possession-based football, I will publicly retract all my criticism. But if we fail again against Thailand or Indonesia in a match where we have more possession but can't make a difference, then I think it's time for an honest dialogue about the direction of Vietnamese football. The night Germany collapsed, I began to dare to ask: is greatness real or just a habit? And now, I ask about my own national team: what are we truly building, or are we just repeating old habits in new clothes? The answer, I fear, will come sooner than we think.