World Cup 2026: Vietnam and the Test of Grit

Vietnamese football is standing at one of the most important moments in its history. As the third round of the 2026 World Cup qualifiers in Asia passes the halfway point, the national team is playing not only for points but also for a belief that is growing among fans. But a team's grit does not come from winning a practice match; it is forged under real pressure. Look at how Vietnam has approached recent matches. Coach Kim Sang-sik has built a possession-based style, but controlling the ball does not mean controlling the game. Against physically stronger opponents, the team often loses direction in the opening minutes of the second half. That is not a fitness issue; it is a mental issue. When falling behind, young players easily lose faith in the system and play on instinct. The result is misplaced passes and wrong decisions in the penalty area. One of the bright spots is the growth of Nguyen Hoang Duc. He is no longer just a safe passer. In this qualifying campaign, Hoang Duc has recorded three direct assists and, more importantly, he dares to receive the ball in tight spaces under pressure from two or three opponents. That is the trait of a true conductor. Nguyen Quang Hai, though not at the peak of his 2026-2026 form, still makes a difference from set pieces. But modern football is not only about stars; it needs a cohesive unit. The biggest problem lies in defense. Shifting from a 5-4-1 to a 4-3-3 has created more gaps in front of the penalty area. Wing-backs like Doan Van Hau or Ho Tan Tai often push forward but fail to track back on counter-attacks. Data from recent matches shows Vietnam conceding an average of 12 shots per game, a figure far above the standard for a team hoping to reach a World Cup. This is a tactical issue that can be fixed by adjusting the positions of the two central midfielders, but that requires time – something a qualifying campaign does not have much of. With injuries and a congested schedule, squad rotation is necessary. But Kim Sang-sik seems overly reliant on the experienced core. In the latest friendly against Singapore, giving opportunities to three U23 players like Khuan Van Khang, Nguyen Thai Son, and Bui Vi Hao brought fresh energy. That boldness needs to be repeated, not only in friendlies but also in official matches; otherwise, the gap between the first and second teams will widen, and the bench becomes a graveyard for talent. Looking further ahead, Vietnamese football is developing thanks to academy foundations. NutiFood Academy, PVF, and local training hubs have produced technically gifted players but lacking tactical thinking. This is not the fault of young coaches; it is the result of overemphasizing win-loss records in youth tournaments instead of individual development. A 16-year-old who is good at dribbling but does not know how to move off the ball will struggle in the harsh environment of Asian football. Fans often compare the current generation with the historic U23 squad that reached the 2026 Asian U23 final in Changchun. That generation had Quang Hai, Cong Phuong, Van Thanh – names that became icons. But football does not live on memories. Memories only have value when they are transformed into a tactical legacy. Otherwise, each generation starts from zero while regional rivals have already moved ahead. Thailand has a stronger domestic league, Indonesia invests heavily in naturalized players, and Malaysia is constantly improving. Standing still means falling behind. Media also bears a significant responsibility. When a player trains hard, he deserves recognition; when he is tired, he deserves understanding. Emotion-driven criticism after every defeat often makes young players fearful rather than strong. They are well trained but are carrying an enormous psychological burden from off-pitch expectations. When talking about grit, fans often recall the historic win over Japan at the 2026 Asian Cup. But remembering does not mean living in the past. Grit is redefined in how a team handles painful defeats. Losing to Iraq in stoppage time due to a lapse in concentration is not the end; it is a lesson. The question is: did the team learn it? A team wanting to play in a World Cup needs three elements: a clear tactical system, a leadership group in the dressing room, and a long-term plan from the federation. Kim Sang-sik's system remains vague. People see the team passing back and forth in its own half without ideas to break through. The on-field leader is Hoang Duc, but he is not the type to shout. And the Vietnam Football Federation, despite progress in communication and finance, still lacks a sustainable strategy for the national team. In this qualifying round, Vietnam's opponents are not vastly superior in class. Points are being decided by small details: a missed penalty, a wrongly positioned corner kick, a substitution made too late. Thailand, with a core of 22-24-year-olds who played in the Asian U23, is showing a confident new generation. Vietnam is not inferior in player quality, but falls short in the courage to take risks. Let's look at the minutes played by players under 25 in this campaign. While Thailand gives an average of 220 minutes per match to young players, Vietnam only gives 130. This difference reflects a philosophy of safety. But top-level football is not built on safety. Teams like Japan and South Korea boldly rebuild after each World Cup, and they are not afraid of short-term failure. Vietnam needs a similar revolution, at least in the goalkeeper position, where Dang Van Lam, though solid at club level, struggles to meet the ball-playing demands of international football. In the match against Australia, with the score at 1-1 and the second half just starting, Kim Sang-sik had the chance to adjust. But he waited until the 70th minute to make substitutions. Those minutes of waiting cost the team its rhythm. His cautious game management stems from Korean football culture, but needs to be adapted to Vietnamese players – who perform better when given trust and a clear structure. The atmosphere at My Dinh Stadium in the recent match against Indonesia was proof. 40,000 spectators created a wall of sound. But that pressure sometimes makes young players hesitate. They need to be seen as skilled humans, not winning machines. The fans' tolerance is part of the strength, but it can be a double-edged sword if the home team does not control its emotions. Another issue lies in the domestic league. V.League is not truly professional when clubs rely mainly on wealthy owners. This directly affects player quality. When the domestic competition does not demand speed and intensity, players cannot easily step onto the international stage and immediately meet a high tempo. The First Division is even more faded. Talented young generations are easily forgotten in a system lacking true competitiveness. The story of the women's national team is also an inspiration. They played in the 2026 World Cup and, despite not advancing past the group stage, the fighting spirit of Huynh Nhu and Nguyen Thi Thanh Nha touched the hearts of fans. Men's football should learn from that: accept the current level, but never stop believing in the ability to rise. Finally, the pressure of fan expectations is inevitable. Millions of Vietnamese hearts are following every step of the players in the World Cup qualifiers. But instead of only demanding victories, demand honesty with themselves. A team can lose and still progress. The difference between a mid-tier group and a great team is how they handle defeat. Vietnam has risen after painful losses before. History shows the team has that quality. The only remaining question is whether the current generation dares to write history with its own grit, or will simply stand by and watch as the opportunity passes. The time has come to see real grit in the team, not from declarations, but from the way they move, pass, and carry each other through every minute of play. Vietnamese football has waited for this for twenty years. And the decisive moment is drawing very near.