Vietnamese Football and Signals from Europe: A Perspective from a Vietnamese Journalist in Lyon

I remember that afternoon in November 2026, standing in the corridor of Groupama Stadium waiting to interview a young Lyon player, when my phone buzzed incessantly. On the other end, a colleague from Hanoi asked: "Are you following the AFF Cup? Vietnam won 3-0." I smiled, opened the livestream on my iPad propped on the press table. The cheers echoed from a stadium nearly ten thousand kilometers away — but I could still hear every beat.

Since leaving Vietnam for France at 19, I have pursued European football as a full-time career. But my heart has never left those dusty afternoons playing football on dirt fields back home. And after twelve years observing both football cultures, I have realized something: Vietnamese football is standing at a crucial crossroads, and the signals from Europe can help us read the road ahead.

They say girls don't understand tactics, so I bring an entire season as evidence.

Context: The Big Picture of Vietnamese Football

In 2026, Vietnam U23 made history in Changzhou. In 2026, the senior team won the AFF Cup and reached the Asian Cup quarterfinals. In 2026, they qualified for the final round of World Cup qualifying for the first time. But from 2026 onwards, Vietnamese football has stalled. The AFF Cup 2026 performance fell short of expectations. V-League still struggles with identity. Overseas players are scarce. The question is: what are we missing?

As a sports journalist living in Lyon — home to Olympique Lyonnais, one of the world's most renowned academies — I have the opportunity to observe how the French build football from the roots. And I realize that Vietnamese football does not lack talent. We lack a system.

Core: Tactical and System Analysis

Let us start with the basics: pressing. In Europe, pressing is not just about running a lot. It is a system calculated in square meters of pressure per second. At the Lyon academy, U15 players are taught to read space and coordinate pressing by zone. They learn to "trap" opponents into high-pressure areas, where the ball-loss rate reaches 78%.

I once interviewed a Lyon youth coach. He said: "Pressing is not chasing the ball. It is closing every escape route of the opponent, like a chess game." In Vietnam, I see many teams still pressing by "chasing the ball" — exhausting but inefficient. The result is diminished stamina after the first half, and deadly gaps appear in the defense.

Data is just a map; the real road lies in the stands.

Another difference is transition speed. In V-League, I follow about 15 matches per season via streaming platforms. I notice that Vietnamese teams typically take 4 to 7 seconds to transition from defense to attack after winning the ball. In Europe, that number is 2 to 4 seconds. Seven seconds may sound short, but in top-level football, that is enough time for the opponent to completely reorganize their defense.

Look at how the Vietnam national team played under coach Park Hang-seo. His greatest strength was organizing disciplined defense and fast transitions through long passes over the top. But when opponents learned to counter it — as Saudi Arabia and Australia did in World Cup qualifying — the system revealed its limits. We lacked Plan B and C for adaptation.

Contrarian: A Counter-Intuitive Perspective

Many believe Vietnamese football needs an exceptional foreign coach to go further. I believe that is not enough. The core issue lies in the youth development system and the national football philosophy.

An empty stadium does not silence the match; it just changes the key so I can hear better.

I have witnessed how the French Football Federation (FFF) operates regional training centers. Each region has a center with standardized curriculum at the national level. Players from age 12 are taught the same tactical system, the same football language. When they reach the first team, they do not waste time adapting to the philosophy — they have lived with it for seven years.

In Vietnam, each training center and each club seems to follow its own direction. Some play short passing, some prefer long balls, some employ high pressing. When young players join the national team, they have to learn everything from scratch. That is a tremendous waste of resources.

Another misconception is that Vietnamese players lack the physique to play in Europe. I have seen small players like Lionel Messi, Bernardo Silva, and Phil Foden dominate world football. The issue is not height, but relative strength and body control. European academies have specific exercises to develop core strength and balance for smaller players. In Vietnam, I see young players still being pushed to gain weight or change their physique unscientifically.

Takeaway: Signals for the Future

I am not saying Vietnamese football should mechanically copy the European model. Each football culture has its own identity. But there are universal principles that any football nation aiming to progress must master: consistent training systems, clear tactical philosophy, and flexible adaptability.

The beat-keeper rarely appears on the big screen, but the whole match dances to his steps.

I will continue to follow Vietnamese football from Lyon. I will keep recording the signals — from the passes of young Vietnamese players, from the decisions of the VFF, from the moves of V-League clubs. And I will write about them, not to prove I am right, but to keep the beat of the story.

Because I believe that one day, Vietnamese football will find its own rhythm. And when that day comes, I will be here, with my notebook and laptop, ready to capture that moment.

From the World Cup to empty stadiums, I have learned that football never stands still — it just changes its key.