U23 Vietnam Reach Asiad 2026 Quarterfinals: 'Three Identical Matches' – A Ticket Tinged with Concern

I sat in the stands of Stadium No. 1, a position offering a full view of the pitch. When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read 0-2. On the field, Uzbekistan's players huddled together in celebration. But Vietnam's U23 players stood motionless — not a single word exchanged, no gesture of comfort. They had just lost the final match of the 2026 Asiad group stage.

Moments later, my phone buzzed relentlessly. "We made the quarterfinals!" — a colleague from Hanoi texted, with three exclamation marks. The loss to Uzbekistan did not stop U23 Vietnam from advancing, thanks to results elsewhere in Group C. I was not quick to celebrate. I watched the tunnel as the players silently left the pitch, remembering a phrase that former international Nguyễn Tuấn Phong had uttered when we reviewed match footage during halftime: "Three matches, exactly the same."

That phrase echoed in my mind all evening. The more I thought about it, the more I understood that this quarterfinal ticket was not entirely good news.

Let us set the scene. U23 Vietnam finished the 2026 Asiad men's football group stage with one win, one draw, and one loss — enough for second place in Group C behind Uzbekistan, securing a quarterfinal berth. Results in matches involving Kuwait and the Philippines contributed to this outcome. But looking at the performances, one thing is undeniable: this young national team advanced despite its problems, not because it overcame them.

Nguyễn Tuấn Phong, a former national team player, is the first to say this openly. In his interview with Tuổi Trẻ, he repeated three phrases: "missed many chances," "no defensive midfielder," and "three identical matches." Together, they paint an uncomfortable portrait of a team in a transitional phase — moving from the Kim Sang Sik era, marked by success at the 2026 U23 Asian Cup, toward a new generation lacking depth and the kind of individuals who can make a difference.

As a journalist who has covered Southeast Asian football for more than two decades, I know Tuấn Phong is not exaggerating. But I also understand his view — like any expert's — is only part of the story. What I wanted to find was beneath the surface, in the structural operation of the team. Here is what I saw.

The Three-Center-Back Experiment: A Patchwork Test

Coach Đinh Hồng Vinh's starting lineup against Uzbekistan used a three-center-back formation — a system in vogue across modern football, from Europe to Asia. In theory, three central defenders with attacking wing-backs can provide security both centrally and out wide. But theory is beautiful only on paper.

Look at the actual personnel: Đức Anh, Lê Nguyên Hoàng, and Phạm Lý Đức formed the defensive trio in that decisive match. All three are young, promising, technically sound central defenders. But none of them is the first-choice option. Hiểu Minh and Nhật Minh, the preferred center-back partnership from earlier youth tournaments, were both unavailable — a severe shortage of personnel at the most critical position in a three-at-the-back system. The result was a trio of strangers, never having played together at national-team level, thrust into the most important match of the group stage.

Tuấn Phong pointed out that the center-backs "did not support each other." This short observation accurately describes the classic symptom of a freshly assembled defense: excessive gaps between the center-backs. When one steps forward, the other two fail to cover the space behind. In a well-drilled back three, those spaces are filled by chemistry — something that cannot be built in two or three training sessions.

The clearest evidence was the entire left channel in the first half. Lê Đình Long Vũ, the young left wing-back, was repeatedly exploited. Uzbekistan funneled the ball into the vast space behind him with remarkable speed and precision. Each time, the stands shook with the roar of opposition fans — and each time, I saw that gap widening like a crack in the wall that no one could seal in time.

Credit where due: the coaching staff spotted the problem and acted. Phi Hoàng replaced Lê Đình Long Vũ, and the situation — as Tuấn Phong conceded — "improved." But that improvement raises an uncomfortable question: why was the problem recurring in the first place? The staff's in-game reading is good, but its ability to anticipate risk is clearly limited. In knockout football, an elite opponent like South Korea or Saudi Arabia will not wait until the second half to attack a weakness you just fixed.

The Missing Number Six

One line from my long conversation with Tuấn Phong stayed with me: "This team has no defensive midfielder, and it seems they cannot find one." He referred to a player "like Thái Sơn" — a holding midfielder who covers space, screens the defense, reads situations, and breaks up opposition passing before it becomes dangerous.

U23 Vietnam's midfield against Uzbekistan paired Xuân Bắc with Nguyễn Thái Quốc Cường. Both are technically gifted, intelligent midfielders who like to carry the ball and join attacks. But neither does the unglamorous work — the first tackle, the cover for defenders, the "no" offered to opposition advances in dangerous zones. When both push forward — and both have that tendency — the back three loses its first line of protection. Every midfield turnover becomes a dangerous situation.

In modern football, the defensive midfielder is no luxury; it is the heartbeat of a defensive system. A team playing three center-backs without a holding midfielder is like a fast car with no brakes — it can surge forward, but every corner is a gamble.

Vietnam's two conceded goals against Uzbekistan, in Tuấn Phong's words, came "too easily." I agree. Not because the goalkeeper blundered or the defenders played individually poorly, but because the structure in front of the defense simply did not exist. When the team loses the ball and no one engages to win it back centrally, three center-backs face dangerous situations alone. That is not enough — by any standard, at any level.

Three Matches, One Face: The Chronic Finishing Problem

Tuấn Phong repeated the phrase "missed many chances" several times, and each time, his voice weighed heavier. This is actually what worries me most — not the defense, although the defense is underperforming. The biggest concern is finishing.

U23 Vietnam clearly can create chances. Tuấn Phong acknowledged the team "controlled the ball well and attacked calmly." But controlling the ball is not scoring. After three group matches with the identical script — possession, buildup, finding space, then missing — we cannot call it bad luck. When a pattern repeats three times consecutively, it becomes a pattern of systemic failure, not an accident.

In the data world, analysts use xG — expected goals — to measure chances quality. But I have said repeatedly that xG is a useful tool that is overused. It does not measure a striker's split-second decision-making, nor the confidence draining after each shot off the post, nor what I call the "killer instinct" — something that cannot be coached, bought, or faked.

The absence of Đình Bắc — a player Tuấn Phong called "class" — exposes an uncomfortable truth. In this squad, nobody can conjure a moment from nothing. Nobody forces opponents to alter their approach simply because he is on the pitch. Nobody whose teammates can pass to in difficult situations and trust to find a solution.

Football is a team sport, but that does not mean individuals are irrelevant. At decisive moments, the difference between "yes" and "no" often lies in one individual who can turn an ordinary situation into an extraordinary goal. U23 Vietnam at this Asiad lacks exactly that type of player.

Structure or Individuals?

Now, let us pause and look at the bigger picture. Tuấn Phong, as a former international, is direct. But what he describes is not the fault of any single individual. It is not Long Vũ's fault for being exploited on the flank, nor Xuân Bắc's or Quốc Cường's fault for both pushing high. The problem lies in the team's overall structure — an unfinished squad operating under significant constraints.

First: insufficient squad depth in pivotal positions. When Hiểu Minh and Nhật Minh were unavailable, U23 Vietnam had no center-back replacements of equivalent class. This is a long-term squad-management issue, not the sole responsibility of coach Đinh Hồng Vinh. A national youth team — especially in a tournament format like the Asiad with congested fixtures — needs at least two solid options per position. U23 Vietnam lacks that in the two most important defensive roles.

Second: no defensive midfielder in the entire registered squad. The question is why? Is it because our player-development pipeline struggles to produce holding midfielders? Or because the selection process missed suitable names? Tuấn Phong said "they seem unable to find one" — meaning the problem is not today's choice but long-term development.

Third: three identical matches cannot be coincidence. When a team repeats the same pattern — decent possession, ineffective attack, defensive lapses — in three consecutive games, that is a signal of a systemic issue. And systemic issues cannot be solved by one tactical meeting, a single lineup change, or a pre-match pep talk. They require time, resources, and a long-term plan.

The Kim Sang Sik Mirror

To understand why Tuấn Phong compares this squad to "the Kim Sang Sik era," we must look at recent history. At the 2026 U23 Asian Cup, U23 Vietnam defeated South Korea on penalties in the third-place match — a feat that sent fans into ecstasy. That squad had depth, outstanding individuals, and a fighting spirit to admire. Against that benchmark, this Asiad squad is assessed as "weaker than itself" — weaker than the current generation's own potential.

This comparison places considerable pressure on coach Đinh Hồng Vinh. Not because fans are protesting — there is no visible public anger, no wave of criticism on social media. But a major newspaper like Tuổi Trẻ publishing pointed comments from a former international, saying the team has "many deficiencies to hope for a surprise," signals that the football community is deliberately lowering expectations ahead of the knockout round.

What does this mean? For fans, it means preparing for a potentially disappointing quarterfinal result. For the coaching staff, it also means the pressure is not so intense as to force reckless gambles. They can play cautiously, rotate the squad, and choose the safest options without fear of vilification in defeat — because expectations have already been adjusted.

But a Quarterfinal Is Still a Quarterfinal

I do not want this article to become an indictment. U23 Vietnam reached the Asiad 2026 quarterfinals — that is an undeniable achievement. In football, emerging from the group stage at a regional tournament is always a success. And that success, in a way, reflects something positive: this team has the composure to navigate difficulty and seize opportunities when they appear.

But the larger question — the one Tuấn Phong raises — is: where exactly does this team stand on the map of Asian youth football?

The answer, as I see it after three group matches, is that U23 Vietnam occupies a "competitive but outgunned" position. They are good enough to reach quarterfinals, to trouble opponents of similar level, to produce entertaining matches. But against Uzbekistan — a side Tuấn Phong called "class" — or against South Korea or Saudi Arabia in the knockout phase, the gap in quality becomes uncomfortably evident.

Uzbekistan did not need to control more of the ball to win. They only needed to exploit precisely the spaces U23 Vietnam left behind — and that is what worries me most. At continental level, strong teams do not need many chances. They need only one or two moments.

Looking Toward the Quarterfinal

So what will determine U23 Vietnam's future at Asiad 2026?

First: Will Hiểu Minh and Nhật Minh recover in time? Even if only one returns, the back three will gain considerably in solidity. If both return, the team's defensive posture changes entirely.

Second: Will coach Đinh Hồng Vinh accept a bold tactical shift — such as introducing an extra holding midfielder, sacrificing an attacking player for balance? Or will he remain loyal to the attack-minded double pivot?

Third: Whom will the quarterfinal draw match them against? Avoiding South Korea and Saudi Arabia keeps the path to progress realistic. Drawing either one makes things far harder — and in that scenario, "defend deep and counter quickly" must be the priority, rather than engaging in a risky possession duel.

I keep returning to something I wrote after the 2026 World Cup: football does not need control; it needs to be believed in. This team needs to believe in itself — in its defensive ability, in its finishing, and in each other in the toughest moments. Tuấn Phong believes this team has many deficiencies. I think he is right. But I also believe that in football, what matters most is not how strong you are, but how much you trust each other when everything is against you.

An empty stadium never stopped me from working; I turn on a livestream and remember that I do this job for the sound around a goal. In the quarterfinal, I will listen for that sound — or for its absence — to learn how much this team truly trusts itself. And I hope this quarterfinal ticket is a starting point, not a final destination.