U23 Vietnam departs for Japan after one training session: Football and the paradox of time

On the afternoon of September 12, the Vietnam Youth Football Training Center stood quieter than ever. Twenty-one players in red shirts, interspersed with familiar faces from the V-League, jogged lightly on the artificial turf under the pale autumn sun of Hanoi. That was the only training session before they departed for Japan to compete in the men's football at the 2026 Asian Games. I have been following Vietnamese football for 53 years, from my early days in the commentary booth at My Dinh to Champions League matches across Europe, and I have never seen a national team prepare for a major tournament with so little time.

The next morning, September 13, the team landed at Kansai Airport at 6 AM. They arrived in Osaka, where the story of their hasty preparation would continue. Their opening match against Kuwait was just two days away. When I looked at the departure list, I understood this was not merely a travel logistics report. This is a portrait of the fragile boundaries between ambition and reality, between tactics and luck, between what we expect and what the pitch truly permits.

Background: Waves arriving at different times

The U23 Vietnam team was tasked with reaching the quarterfinals of the 2026 Asian Games — a goal publicly stated by VFF General Secretary Tran Quoc Tuan before departure. To understand the feasibility of this objective, one must first understand how this squad was assembled.

According to the plan, 15 players arrived at the Vietnam Youth Football Training Center from noon on September 12. Six other players — from Hanoi FC and SLNA — were only released after their V-League match that same day. They boarded planes immediately after the final whistle, with no recovery time, no familiarization session. Two more players would join later, arriving on September 14. This means the complete squad would have only about one day — accounting for travel time and timezone adjustment — before the opening match against Kuwait at 3 PM on September 15.

The 2026 Asian Games features 15 teams divided into 3 groups, but information about the format contains an ambiguity. The report states that "the top two teams from each group advance to the quarterfinals," but 3 groups multiplied by 2 equals only 6 teams, while quarterfinals require 8 teams. This is a mathematical paradox I cannot overlook: either the best third-placed teams also qualify, or the report is incomplete, or the official format differs from what was described. Before calculating points needed to advance, this detail requires verification from the official Olympic Council of Asia (OCA) sources.

U23 Vietnam is in Group C alongside Kuwait, Philippines, and Uzbekistan. This is a group with an interesting structure: the weakest opponent (Philippines) is in the middle, while the strongest (Uzbekistan) comes last. The group stage schedule spans three matches on September 15, 18, and 22 — eight days with three matches, an extremely demanding schedule for any team, let alone one with only one training session.

Tactical analysis: The absence of tactics

In 53 years of following football, I have witnessed countless national teams enter major tournaments with limited preparation time. I sat at Luzhniki Stadium in 2026, watching Luka Modric run over 13 kilometers in the World Cup semifinal, and understood that sometimes preparation is not about the number of training sessions but the mental strength of a collective. But with U23 Vietnam 2026, I cannot provide any substantive tactical analysis — simply because no tactical information has been disclosed.

There is no information about the tactical system, no details about the expected starting lineup, no clues about the playing style head coach Dinh Hong Vinh wants to build. The only thing I know for certain is: the team trained exactly once on the afternoon of September 12. Based on my experience following previous Asian Games participants — typically having 2 to 4 weeks of camp — one session is nearly the minimum possible for a continental tournament.

Based on common logic, when preparation time is extremely limited, the realistic tactical ceiling for any team is usually a compact defensive block, playing on instinct and exploiting transitions quickly, rather than a complex possession-based system. This is the pragmatic default choice for any coach facing zero time. But I emphasize: this is only an inference based on experience, not information from the source.

The two late arrivals — those who just played professional football then boarded a plane — are unlikely to have the fitness and tactical readiness on par with the main group. The probability of them being used as substitutes rather than starters against Kuwait is understandable. But football is not always logical. Sometimes, the freshness from players not yet shaped by the training plan creates unexpected surprises.

One noteworthy point is the team is based in Nagoya — meaning all three group matches are at one venue, avoiding inter-city travel. This is a small logistical advantage in a context where time was not on this team's side.

Counter-intuitive perspective: The paradox of preparation

There is something I have learned through more than half a century of following football: sometimes, too much preparation time becomes a burden. I have witnessed national teams train for months, analyzing opponents down to the millimeter, but when they stepped onto the pitch, they played heavily, lacking freedom, like men carrying too many expectations on their shoulders.

U23 Vietnam does not have that problem. With just one training session, no one has time to worry excessively. No one has time to analyze opponents to the point of paranoia. The players are probably in a strange emotional state — exhausted from the V-League match, nervous about a major tournament, without time to process everything. This could be a major disadvantage, but it could also be a strange advantage: they enter the match with fewer thoughts, less burden, closer to the primal instinct of football.

Looking back at the 2026 Asian Games, the Vietnamese team under Park Hang Seo finished fourth — the best result in Vietnamese football history at this arena. Memories of that April night still glow in fans' hearts: young players playing with fire, with faith, with something beyond pure tactics. Comparing the 2026 squad with the golden generation of 2026 is understandable, but also unfair. Each generation has its own story, its own circumstances, its own way of facing challenges.

What I want to say is: do not rush to conclude that one training session equals failure. Football has witnessed miracles born from unbelievable circumstances. The night at Camp Nou in 2026, when Barcelona scored 6 goals against PSG in the second leg, despite trailing 0-4 in the first leg. I cried in the commentary booth that day, not because of the scoreline, but because I witnessed a collective refusing to believe in their own death. Sometimes, the boundary between disaster and legend is just one heartbeat.

But I must also be honest: the risks here are real. Six players who just played in the V-League, traveled overnight, without recovery time — this is a soft tissue injury risk window. In sports medicine, we call this the "danger zone": muscles that have not yet relaxed must endure additional pressure from aircraft cabin pressure changes and timezone shifts. An unexpected injury could decide the entire tournament, especially for a team with only 21 players.

And there is one more thing: the scheduling conflict between the V-League and the national team is not new. This is a recurring structural problem in Vietnamese football, where clubs have no obligation to release players for tournaments outside the FIFA window. The Asian Games is not in the FIFA window, forcing the VFF to negotiate each time, creating uneven departures like what we are witnessing.

Risks and opportunities: Things to watch

From a sporting perspective, the biggest risk for U23 Vietnam is not the opponents or tactics, but the preparation process itself. The team enters the opening match against Kuwait in a "rusty" condition — lacking real match rhythm, lacking cohesion between lines, lacking the confidence that comes from thorough preparation. In football, "rust" is not just about lacking skills; it is the disconnection between thought and action, between intention and execution.

The match against Kuwait on September 15 will be the first test. Kuwait is a West Asian representative with a physical, direct style of play — a style that has historically troubled young Southeast Asian teams in previous encounters. If U23 Vietnam cannot demonstrate the required sharpness, a loss or draw in the opening match will create enormous pressure for the match against Philippines — a game many consider "must-win" to secure a quarterfinal spot.

Uzbekistan, the final group stage opponent, is considered the leading contender in Group C. The Central Asian U23 generation has shown remarkable consistency at the continental level in recent years. If U23 Vietnam fails to earn points against Kuwait and Philippines, the match against Uzbekistan could become a miniature knockout — a do-or-die scenario even though it is still the group stage.

From an industry perspective, the Asian Games is an observation stage for many J-League, K-League, and even European clubs. An outstanding individual performance from any young Vietnamese player could open transfer doors abroad — this is a silent but powerful motivation for Vietnamese youth football. Each player is not only playing for the national team; they are also playing for their own future.

In terms of media, the story of "only one training session" has become a ready-made narrative frame. If the team fails, this will be an widely accepted explanation. If the team succeeds, this becomes a story about extraordinary spirit, about overcoming difficulties. This is a double-edged sword that anyone who has followed football long enough recognizes: the same fact can be read in two completely different ways depending on outcomes.

Another blind spot I want to emphasize: we do not know who will lead the dressing room. There is no information about the captain, no clues about trusted voices in difficult moments. In football, when everything falls apart — when tactics fail, when fitness runs out, when opponents press aggressively — that is when a voice is needed, an eye contact, someone reminding the team that they still have each other. This is a variable that no analysis can capture from a distance.

Reflection: Football, time, and the meaning of stepping forward

I have lived long enough to understand that football is not just a game of 22 people on a pitch. It is a dialogue between those who play and those who witness, between ambition and reality, between past and future. U23 Vietnam enters the 2026 Asian Games in less than ideal circumstances — one training session, a squad arriving in waves, an objective set before everything was ready.

But I have also witnessed enough to not rush to judgment. Football has given us moments that reason cannot explain. Teams that were defeated before the start, then suddenly shone. Players carrying the burden of an entire nation, then suddenly finding relief in a flash of brilliance. Sometimes, the very lack of preparation releases something that over-preparation kills: instinct, freedom, the belief that anything can happen.

The real question is not whether U23 Vietnam will reach the quarterfinals. The real question is: in these circumstances, which version of themselves will the team become? A collective that breaks under pressure, or a group that finds each other in adversity? This is something only the pitch can answer.

On September 15, the ball will roll. And when it rolls, all analysis, predictions, and worries will become meaningless. Only 90 minutes — or more — remain, where 21 people must save themselves. I have seen this too many times to know: anything can happen.