The Return of the Wingers: Why V-League is Reviving Traditional Wide Play

I have sat in the stands of Hang Day Stadium for 40 years, and last weekend, I saw something I thought had disappeared forever: a true winger, hugging the touchline, crossing with his left foot, and forcing the entire opposing defense to drop deep. That was Phan Van Duc of Song Lam Nghe An, in the match against Hanoi FC. He didn't cut inside to shoot with his right foot like every other winger in V-League. He dragged the ball along the line, looked up, and delivered a curling cross into the box. The ball curved like a blade, sailed over the center-back's head, and landed perfectly at the feet of the striker. The goal was scored, but what I remember most is not the goal. It was the collective sigh of the entire stadium – not from disappointment, but from sheer astonishment. People forget the goal, but they never forget the sigh of the whole stadium that night. The context of that astonishment lies in a trend that has lasted nearly a decade. Since Pep Guardiola popularized the 'inverted winger' tactic at Barcelona, world football has gradually erased traditional wide players. V-League, always quick to learn from Europe, has not been immune. Since around 2026, most Vietnamese teams have used inverted wingers, cutting inside to shoot or combine in short passing patterns. This has created a sad uniformity: crosses from the flanks have almost disappeared, replaced by congested central play. According to my statistics from matches I have followed, the average number of crosses per game in V-League has dropped from 24 (in 2026) to 11 (in 2026). That is a decline of more than 50%. But what I observed in Phan Van Duc is not an exception. In the last three rounds of V-League, I have noted at least four teams using a 'pure' winger – hugging the line, crossing, stretching the opponent's shape. These include Song Lam Nghe An with Phan Van Duc, Hai Phong with Nguyen Van Toan, Binh Duong with Tran Minh Vuong, and even Viettel with a young emerging player. This is not coincidental. It reflects a deliberate tactical adjustment by coaches who have realized that the inverted approach has become too predictable. When every winger cuts inside, the opposing defense only needs to set up a screening layer in the middle, and everything becomes stagnant. Vietnamese teams, with limited physicality and modest dueling ability, need an alternative escape. And that escape is the return of the traditional wingers. Data from the matches I have followed shows a clear contrast. In matches where teams used inverted wingers, the conversion rate of chances into goals was only 8.2%. In contrast, in matches featuring a traditional winger, that rate rose to 12.7%. The difference lies not in individual skill, but in the creation of space. A winger hugging the line forces the opposing full-back to stretch, creating gaps in the center for central midfielders to exploit. Conversely, an inverted winger allows the defense to compress, crowding the middle and turning that area into a congested maze. I have witnessed too many V-League matches where teams held 65% possession but failed to score because they had no one to stretch the defense. They passed the ball around in the middle like a lifeless dance, then lost it on a counter-attack. I recall a match between Hanoi FC and Binh Duong in 2026. Hanoi FC, with superior possession, held 70% of the ball but created only two clear chances. Binh Duong, with just 30% possession, scored two goals from crosses by Tran Minh Vuong – a pure left winger. After the match, I asked Binh Duong's coach why he kept Minh Vuong on the wing instead of instructing him to cut inside. He replied: 'Because he is the only player on the pitch who can cross accurately from the flank. When he hugs the line, the defender has to follow, and that creates space for our striker.' That simple answer made me think deeply. We have over-complicated modern football to the point of forgetting the most basic values: space and simplicity. However, I am not a nostalgic person about the past. I do not claim that traditional wing play is 'right' and inverted wingers are 'wrong.' What I want to emphasize is the necessity of diversity. Football is a game of choices, and when every team makes the same choice, the game becomes boring and easy to counter. The return of traditional wingers in V-League is not a step backward, but an evolution – an adaptation to the specific context of Vietnamese football, where physicality and speed are not the strongest assets, but intelligence and game-reading are. I have followed Vietnamese football for nearly half a century, and I have witnessed many tactical cycles come and go. In the 1990s, we worshipped long-ball, direct play. In the 2000s, we shifted to technical, short-passing styles. In the 2010s, we were influenced by Tiki-Taka and possession-based play. And now, in the 2020s, we are witnessing the return of old values – but not as a mere repetition, rather as a subtle blend of old and new. Today's traditional wingers not only know how to cross, but also how to drift inside when necessary, creating unpredictability. They are the '12th player' – the ones who make a difference not planned by the opponent's tactics. This return also raises a big question for youth academies. For a decade, Vietnamese football academies have produced 'versatile' wingers – able to play on both feet, cut inside, and operate in multiple positions. But are we neglecting the training of 'pure' wingers – those with precise crossing ability, those who understand the value of stretching space? I believe the answer is yes. We have focused too much on creating 'all-round' players while forgetting that football also needs specialists – those who do one thing extremely well. A good traditional winger can be a team's most potent weapon, especially against deep-lying defenses – a common sight in V-League. I remember an afternoon at the PVF youth training center, where I was invited to speak with coaches. A young coach asked me: 'What do you think about training wingers in the modern era?' I replied: 'Teach them to cross first. If they can cross accurately from the flank, they will always have a place in a team. But if they only know how to cut inside, they will become redundant once the opponent figures them out.' My answer seemed simple, but I believe it contains a profound truth. Football is a game of fundamental skills, and those skills never become obsolete. They are only forgotten. The return of traditional wing play in V-League is not just a tactical story. It is a story of patience and belief. In a football world increasingly driven by glamour and speed, old values can still survive if executed with intelligence and subtlety. Phan Van Duc, Tran Minh Vuong, Nguyen Van Toan – these names may not be the brightest stars of V-League, but they are the keepers of a style many thought was dead. They are the 'strange birds' in a sky full of same-colored birds. And I, a man who has spent his life observing, see in them a hope – not for the past, but for the future of Vietnamese football. I will continue to follow them, recording every touch, every cross, every moment they make the stadium hold its breath. Because I know that in an increasingly homogenized football world, those who dare to be different will always be the ones who make a difference. And that is what I want to document – not to be nostalgic, but to prove that football always has room for surprises. That 19-year-old boy did not change the era. He only showed us that the era had changed. And these strange birds are showing us that Vietnamese football is still changing, day by day, match by match, cross by cross.