From Incheon Training Grounds to the Big Stage: The Journey of Vietnam's Rough Diamonds

An empty stadium so quiet that I could hear the breath of the match itself. That was the moment I realized sport is never just about the numbers on the scoreboard. I have spent 24 years observing the sports industry from the seat of an Olympic journalist, from the dazzling lights of the Games to the hidden training grounds of Incheon, where the first rough diamonds rolled along their destined path. The story I am about to tell is not about established stars, but about those quietly building the foundation for Vietnamese sport. When data becomes the star, football begins to be told in a different language. But before diving into the numbers, let me take you back to an August afternoon in 2026 at the Asiad Incheon Stadium. I went there looking for a topic for my Olympic column, but among a sea of unknown athletes, I noticed Lee Jae-won – a 19-year-old long jumper who only won bronze with 7m83. His run-up technique was almost textbook-wrong, but his final take-off angle generated extraordinary force. I interviewed him for three hours, then wrote an enthusiastic piece about "a mistake about to become a legend." The article was shared by the national team coach, which led to an invitation to serve as media advisor for the Olympic team. The lesson I learned from Incheon is simple: never judge an athlete by their results. Look at their unconventional techniques, their unformed potential, the details that cameras usually miss. The current context of Vietnamese sport is at a critical turning point. With a population of nearly 100 million, Vietnam possesses abundant young human resources, but the training system still has many gaps. While countries like Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines have made significant strides in professionalizing sports training, Vietnam is still searching for the right model. From the perspective of someone who has followed hundreds of tournaments, I notice a paradox: we have plenty of talent, but lack the system to nurture it. Youth football academies are springing up like mushrooms, but most are merely commercial gimmicks by former stars. Investment in grassroots coach training – those who truly shape the technique and mindset of young players – is severely lacking. Look at the numbers: according to statistics from the Vietnam Football Federation (VFF), about 20,000 children participate in school football programs, but fewer than 5% have access to certified coaches. In Japan, that figure is 80%. This is not a story about money, but about strategy and vision. I remember visiting a youth training facility in central Vietnam. The facilities were poor, the training ground was an empty dirt field, but I saw 12-13 year old children training with rare passion. A boy named Minh, only 1m55 tall but with dribbling skills that impressed me. I asked his coach: "Does this boy have potential?" – The coach shook his head: "At that height, it's hard to go professional." That is exactly the problem. We are evaluating talent with the yardstick of the past, while modern football has completely changed. Messi is 1m70, Xavi is 1m68, Iniesta is 1m71 – all legends with modest height. What makes the difference is not height, but tactical thinking, match-reading ability, and individual technique. People say rough diamonds must be polished, but I believe they already shine from within the mud. The issue is not finding talent, but creating an environment for talent to develop. And that starts with training grassroots coaches – those who will be the first teachers, shaping the mindset and technique of the next generation of players. Throughout my 24-year career, I have witnessed too many cases of young talent wasted due to lack of proper guidance. There are players promoted to the first team at 16-17, but not properly equipped with physical training, nutrition, and psychology. They are pushed into the professional environment too early, then suffer tremendous pressure, eventually leading to injuries and unfulfilled careers. Another issue I want to address is injury and the return process. I have witnessed too many cases of players rushing back from ACL injuries and destroying the second phase of their careers. The psychological fear is harder to fix than the body – that is something rarely mentioned in the media. Look at the case of a Vietnamese player once expected to become a pillar of the national team. He suffered an ACL injury at 22, underwent surgery, and recovered in 9 months. But when he returned, he was no longer himself. Not because of physical fitness, but because of psychology. In every physical duel, there was hesitation, a hint of caution. And in top-level football, a fraction of a second of hesitation is enough to make a difference. Later, I learned he had to undergo 6 months of psychological therapy before he could perform at his best. But those 6 months were never mentioned in the media. We only see the heroic "overcoming injury" narrative, without seeing the hidden corners of the recovery process. What I want to emphasize here is: we need a more comprehensive approach to sport. Not just technique, tactics, physical fitness, but also nutrition, psychology, career management. And above all, patience. I remember interviewing a Korean coach working in Vietnam. He told me: "In Korea, we took 20 years to build our youth training system. You are just beginning, but you have much greater potential than us. You just need to be patient." The living-room stadium taught me that sport only changes the way people sit down. During the COVID-19 pandemic, when all tournaments stopped, I witnessed Vietnamese athletes training in the harshest conditions. Footballers running around apartment rooftops, swimmers doing dry-land training, martial artists practicing in cramped living rooms. They did not give up, and that is the true spirit of sport. But spirit alone is not enough. We need systems, strategy, and investment in the right places. And above all, we need to change our view of sport – not just as a game, but as an industry, an ecosystem with many interconnected components. Look at how Korea built its sports industry. They did not just invest in the national team, but in the training system from school level, in infrastructure, in sports science research, in technology. They created a complete ecosystem where every talent has the opportunity to develop. Vietnam can learn from that model, but should not copy it mechanically. We need to find our own path, suitable to Vietnam's economic conditions, culture, and people. One of Vietnam's strengths in sport is passion and fighting spirit. I have witnessed matches where the Vietnamese team played with 200% effort, not because of tactics or technique, but because of heart. That is something that cannot be measured by numbers, but it is the factor that creates historic moments. However, passion alone is not enough to compete on the international stage. We need professionalism in every aspect, from training, management to media. And we need people who dare to think differently, dare to do differently. I remember meeting a Brazilian scout working in Vietnam. He told me: "In Brazil, we have thousands of young players training on the streets, on beaches, on concrete pitches. They don't have the best conditions, but they have burning passion. And from those harsh environments, the greatest stars were born." He was right. Material conditions are not the deciding factor. What matters is creating an environment where talent can be discovered, nurtured, and developed. The signature is just a flag; the map lies in the eyes of the scout leaving the stands. I learned that from my years as an Olympic journalist. The greatest discoveries do not come from rankings, but from the hidden corners that few people notice. In the context of Vietnamese sport on the rise, I believe we are standing at a historic opportunity. With proper investment, long-term strategy, patience, and vision, Vietnam can rise to the top of Southeast Asia and beyond. But that requires change from the roots. Not just building more stadiums or buying modern equipment, but changing mindsets, changing approaches, changing how we view sport. I want to end this article with a story. In 2026, I watched a match of the Vietnam U23 team at an international tournament. We lost 0-2, but I did not see disappointment on the faces of the young players. Instead, I saw determination, a hunger to learn, to improve. After the match, I met a young player sitting alone in the corner of the locker room. I asked him: "Are you sad?" – He replied: "I'm sad because we lost, but I'm not discouraged. I know I still have much to learn, much to work on. And I believe that one day, Vietnam will stand at the top." That is the spirit of Vietnamese sport. Never giving up, never stopping to dream. And with that spirit, along with proper investment and long-term strategy, I believe the future of Vietnamese sport will be very bright. At 40, I no longer chase transfer news, but slow down to listen to the story behind the numbers. And the story of Vietnamese sport, I believe, will be one of the most beautiful stories I have ever witnessed in my career. Look forward, but do not forget the lessons of the past. Dream big, but do not forget the small steps. Believe in talent, but do not forget to invest in the system. And above all, remember: sport is not just about winning, but about the journey, the relentless effort, the spirit of never giving up. That is the message I want to send to all Vietnamese sports lovers. And that is also why I continue to write, continue to observe, continue to believe in the future of our nation's sport.