ASIAD 2026: Those Who Stay Behind and the Nameless Test for Vietnam U23

This morning, on the bus crossing Dragon Bridge, I received a message: "U23 ASIAD squad list." Opening it, I saw 23 names, but those that once made memories were missing. Dinh Bac, Trung Kien, Nhat Minh were not there. Hieu Minh, Thai Son, Bui Vi Hao, Khuan Van Khang were also absent due to injury. The busy crowd outside, but how many knew that a generation of players was stepping into a test without idols by their side? The pitch never lies; we are just not slow enough to listen. In March 2026, U23 Vietnam won the Asian bronze medal. In May, the national team won the ASEAN Cup. Those two successes made the whole nation expect the young to continue shining at the 2026 ASIAD in Japan. But as the tournament approached, the VFF had to choose between keeping stars—ready for bigger expectations in the national team—or taking them to the continental stage. Coach Dinh Hong Vinh and his staff decided to leave the three aforementioned in the "national team plan," while noting four others with ligament injuries. The squad has thus been significantly refreshed, with many names still unfamiliar to fans. Looking at the squad structure, it is not hard to see an imbalance: 3 goalkeepers, 7 defenders, 9 midfielders, 4 forwards. A team with nine midfielders is a tactical statement, but also a bold move when the attack has only four options. In the context that scoring midfielders like Nguyen Thai Son or Khuan Van Khang cannot participate, the weight will fall on names yet to be truly tested at the continental level. Those who have followed them in national U17 or U19 tournaments know they have skills, but skills need to be placed under the pressure of a real ASIAD. Are these young players strong enough to replace those who brought home the bronze medal? It is in this very vacuum that I see an indescribable beauty. Without stars, football returns to its essence: a team sport. On the pitch, every pass has a reason, every failed touch is a lesson. I often write about losers because I believe "the glory of the loser is a light that only those who stay can pick up." Here, those who stay are the young players, led by a coach unafraid of shuffling. Dinh Hong Vinh may succeed in the coming weeks, or may face criticism, but he is plowing for a longer harvest. In ten years of following Vietnamese youth football, I know that fans usually remember the goals, not the runs that created them. I always remember a certain run by a little-known player before his teammate scored. People remember the name of the scorer, but I remember his run ten seconds earlier. With this squad, there will be inexperience, immature moves, but that is how youth learns to grow. Each match at ASIAD will be a piece in the mosaic of their maturity. If we rush to condemn them when they lose, we will suffocate the potential of a generation barely blooming. I also suspect that the absence of three pillars is the result of a quiet agreement among parties, giving the national team its best force for the World Cup qualifiers. This may be seen as misplaced priority, but in terms of sustainable development, it is a sound choice. We cannot burn out the most talented players by overusing them in every front. Let them rest, let the younger ones try, and trust that Asian football is not a game of one or two individuals. Years ago, I stood in the empty stands of Hoa Xuan, alone, listening to the sound of boots on grass. Then I thought: "The heart still beats, even when the stands no longer applaud." Now, this team will play in Japan; perhaps few Vietnamese will be present in the stands, but millions of hearts at home will beat with them. Applause does not need to be thunderous; each of us just needs to keep faith that we are witnessing the beginning of a story, not the end of an era. Let ASIAD 2026 unfold with all its surprises. If they are eliminated early, it is a larger lesson: about tactical building, about the importance of center-backs who can initiate attacks, about not placing too many expectations on a generation just reaching adulthood. If they go far, that would be the best gift for Vietnamese football. I do not know what the future holds, but I believe one thing: we never touch the ball, but the ball always touches us. And this time, it will touch us in a way we will never forget—not for victory, but for how we dared to face a squad without heroes. When silent, I hear a whole generation waiting for something crazy. Perhaps that crazy thing is not seeking medals, but each player overcoming himself. The list is out, luggage is packed. At that moment, all we need is to place trust in those wearing the red flag with the yellow star, even if they are unknown, even if they are not celebrated, for they will run as if their lives depended on every meter of grass. And who knows, among those strange names, someone might step into the light and later say: "I started at ASIAD, where there were no heroes."