The Journey of a Footstep: When Vietnam National Team Rediscovers the Soul of Pressing

The heat of Wednesday's afternoon training session at My Dinh stadium did not come from the sun. It came from the whistle of head coach Kim Sang-sik, the sound of the ball hitting the artificial turf in continuous rhythm, and the eyes of young players trying to prove they deserve to be on the final roster. I stood at my familiar corner of the training pitch, noting every failed pass, every lost duel, every silent moment when a player sat down to drink water while still looking at the tactical board. That is the familiar image of any national team training session, but this time something was different. The players were not just running. They were learning to read the game. Having followed the Vietnamese national team for more than three decades, I have witnessed many generations of players with different stories. The generation of Hong Son, Van Thach carried an indomitable fighting spirit but lacked tactical discipline. The generation of Cong Vinh, Thanh Luong had superior individual technique but did not have a collective pressing system. The generation of Quang Hai, Cong Phuong reached the Asian peak but faced the problem of sustainability. Now, under coach Kim Sang-sik, a big question is being asked: will the team rediscover the pressing soul that coach Park Hang-seo built, or will it go in a completely new direction? During that training session, I counted 47 collective pressing actions in just 30 minutes. An impressive number. The Vietnamese national team under coach Park was famous for its high pressing ability, especially in the match against Jordan at the 2026 Asian Cup, where they pressed the opponent right from the halfway line. But after coach Philippe Troussier left, the pressing philosophy was significantly eroded. The team under coach Troussier favored ball possession and building from the back, a completely different philosophy. Now, coach Kim Sang-sik is trying to reconcile the two schools, and that is no simple equation. I had the opportunity to chat with a Korean assistant coach who has been with coach Kim from day one. He shared that coach Kim's philosophy is not mechanical high pressing, but "controlled pressing." That means the team will press depending on the situation, the opponent, and the player's physical condition. This is a more modern approach, in line with global football trends, where high pressing is no longer the only formula for success. However, it requires players to have superior game-reading ability, a requirement that not all current Vietnamese players meet. I spent time closely observing the group of young players training separately with the fitness coach. Among them were new faces I had never seen in previous call-ups. A 21-year-old player from CLB Hanoi impressed with his ability to press continuously for 90 seconds without rest, a record of the session. Another 19-year-old from CLB Viettel showed surprising maturity by continuously commanding the defense despite his young age. These players represent the new generation, the generation trained methodically from youth academies and accustomed to high training intensity from a young age. However, there is a harsh reality that no one wants to say out loud: the gap between the Quang Hai, Cong Phuong generation and the next generation is larger than expected. This is not because the young players lack talent, but because they lack a top-level competitive environment. V-League, although having developed significantly in recent years, has not yet reached the level of top Asian leagues. Young players when called up to the national team often face pressure beyond their ability to adapt. I recall the match against Iraq in the 2026 World Cup qualifiers, where the Vietnamese national team lost 0-1 in Basra. That was a match where young players like Hai Long, Van Toan underperformed, not because of lack of effort, but because the pressure from the stands and the harsh weather exceeded their endurance. In my role as a long-time observer, I notice a worrying point: coach Kim Sang-sik seems to be trying to change too many things at once. He wants high pressing, wants ball possession, wants wide attacking, and wants tight defense. That is an ambitious list, but not always achievable in a short time. Top national teams in the world often take many years to build a clear philosophy. The Vietnamese national team with about 10 training camps per year faces the equation of time. Each training camp is a step forward, but the gap between training camps is a step backward if players do not maintain form at their clubs. I spoke with a former national team player who is now a coach at a V-League club. He shared an interesting perspective: "The pressure on the Vietnamese national team now is very different from 10 years ago. Back then, we just needed to reach the Asian Cup quarterfinals to be successful. Now, fans expect the team to pass the World Cup qualifiers, to beat China, to compete with Japan and Korea. That expectation is not wrong, but it creates huge psychological pressure for young players." That statement reveals a deeper problem: fan expectations sometimes far exceed actual capability, and that directly affects player psychology. Back at the training session, I noticed a small but meaningful detail. When coach Kim stopped the session for a break, the players did not just sit in one place as before. They moved continuously, drank water and chatted with each other, some even practiced additional drills with the ball. That is a sign of a team that truly lives football, not just coming to training to complete a task. But that could also be a sign of pressure, when players feel they have to constantly prove themselves. In journalism, I have learned that nothing is clear-cut in football, and every signal can be read in many different ways. Another notable point is the role of naturalized players. Tien Linh, who was recently naturalized, has been called up to the national team and has shown good integration. However, the use of naturalized players remains a controversial topic in Vietnamese football. A segment of fans believe the national team should prioritize native players, while another segment believes naturalized players are necessary to enhance strength. In my observer role, I do not favor either side, but I notice that VFF's naturalization policy lacks a clear long-term strategy. Without a strategy, naturalization can become a temporary solution rather than a development tool. I recall a conversation with a Japanese scout working for a V-League club. He said: "Vietnamese football has great potential in terms of human resources. Young players have good technique, high fighting spirit. However, what you lack is a system. A good player cannot shine without a supporting system around them. That is a lesson Japanese football went through 30 years ago, and now you are at the early stage of that process." That statement reveals a reality: Vietnamese football is in the process of transition, and this process needs time, not immediate results. An interesting point that few people notice is the change in how young players approach football. My generation, those who played on dirt pitches, will never forget the feeling of bare feet touching the ground after every match. Now, young players train on artificial turf from a young age, use data analysis devices, and are familiar with VAR technology before even making their professional debut. That difference is not only technical but also psychological. Today's young players can handle pressure better, but sometimes they are also more vulnerable to pressure from social media, something the previous generation did not face. During the training session, I witnessed a small but memorable moment. A young player, after making a bad pass, bowed his head and stood still for about 5 seconds. No one said anything to him, but his teammates came to pat his shoulder in comfort. That is an expression of a team, where players are not only individually responsible but also collectively responsible. Coach Kim has told the players: "In football, there are no individual mistakes, only collective mistakes. If your teammate makes a mistake, that is the team's mistake for not supporting in time." That philosophy creates a safe environment for young players, but at the same time demands maturity from everyone. However, there is a dark corner that fans rarely see. Coach Kim Sang-sik, although experienced in V-League with CLB Hanoi, still does not have many outstanding achievements at the national team level. VFF's choice of him instead of a foreign coach with a more impressive resume has caused much controversy. Some experts say this is a safe choice, while others say it is a lack of ambition choice. Personally, I think no choice is perfect, and what matters is that coach Kim needs time to prove his ability. Football is not a sprint, but a long-distance race. I spent a lot of time observing how players react to situations in training. Interestingly, most young players show surprising professionalism. They do not complain when asked to repeat a drill many times, do not show fatigue when the coach asks them to run more, and always listen carefully to instructions. That is a sign of a new generation of players, a generation that understands success requires sacrifice. However, I also witnessed a few moments showing that pressure is affecting some players. A player after being reminded by the coach about a mistake was clearly tense for the rest of the session. That is normal, but also a reminder that football is not just tactics and technique, but also psychology. When the training session ended, I stood and watched the players leave the pitch. They did not rush as before. They stopped, chatted with each other, and some even stayed to practice more. Coach Kim stood at the halfway line, watching the players leave, his face showing no clear emotion. I asked him a simple question: "Are you satisfied with today's training?" He replied: "Today was a good day. But I am not satisfied. We still have a lot of work to do." That answer shows the humility of a coach who is truly building a team, not a coach just looking for immediate results. On the VFF side, I notice a positive change in how they operate. They have opened up more access for the media to observe training sessions, allowing reporters to observe more details. That is a step forward compared to the previous era, when everything was kept secret. Transparency not only helps media report more accurately, but also creates positive pressure on the team and coach. When everything is public, decisions must be more accountable, and mistakes are harder to cover up. That is how modern football operates, and Vietnam is gradually adapting. One thing I always remind myself when writing is not to let emotions overtake analysis. Football is a sport full of emotions, but writers need to keep a certain distance to evaluate objectively. The Vietnamese national team may win, may lose, but what matters is how they play and why they play that way. Only when we understand that can we properly assess the potential and limitations of the national team. I recall an evening many years ago, when the Vietnamese national team beat Jordan at the 2026 Asian Cup. The whole My Dinh stadium seemed to explode, thousands of fans cheered, many cried with joy. That was the most beautiful moment I have ever witnessed as a reporter. But behind that moment were hundreds of training sessions like today, thousands of failed passes, tens of thousands of drops of sweat. Football is accumulation, not explosion. And that is the lesson the Vietnamese national team is gradually learning. Back to the original question: where will the Vietnamese national team go? The answer lies not in a specific match or tournament. The answer lies in every training session, every pass, every decision of the coach, every sacrifice of the players. A strong national team is not built in one day, but is built through hundreds of silent days and months. And those days and months are happening right at the My Dinh training ground, where I am standing. When stepping out of the training ground, the afternoon sun had faded. I thought about the young players I had just observed. They could become stars of Vietnamese football, or they may never reach the peak. Football is always uncertain, and that is its beauty. But what I am sure of is that they are trying, and that effort deserves recognition, regardless of the final result. In my role as a beat reporter following the team, I have learned that football is not just about winning and losing. Football is a journey, is patience, is faith in uncertain things. And the Vietnamese national team, with everything they are building, is in the middle of a long journey. That journey could lead to the World Cup, or it could stop at some qualifier. But what matters is that they are still walking, still trying, still believing in themselves. And that, in my experience over decades of following football, is a sign of a team with a future. Finally, I want to share a personal thought: Vietnamese football is at an important crossroads. On one side is continuing to rely on inspiration and fighting spirit as in 2026-2026. On the other side is building a methodical system, a clear philosophy, and accepting that results will come slower but more sustainably. Coach Kim Sang-sik, in his own way, is trying to reconcile those two paths. Whether he succeeds or not, time will tell. But what is certain is that this journey will still be very long, and we, the lovers of Vietnamese football, will continue to accompany the national team through every step forward and even through setbacks. Because football, ultimately, is not just a sport. Football is how we look at ourselves, at what we believe in, at what we hope for.