Scars from Kazan: The Ones Who Stayed and Lessons for Vietnamese Football

On the night of June 27, 2026, in Kazan, I stood in the fan zone as Germany fell 0-2 to South Korea. Mr. Park Jae-won, 54, knelt and kissed the turf, telling me: "After 16 years, this night finally comes." I wrote about the tears of the losers, but the bigger question remains: what happens to the ones who stay after defeat? Today, as the Vietnam national team enters the 2026 World Cup qualifiers, I remember that scene to find answers for ourselves. Vietnamese football is at a strange moment. We have a generation of players groomed at elite academies like PVF and HAGL, but international results remain stagnant. In the recent match against China away (February 2026), Kim Sang-sik's side lost 0-1 despite 58% possession. What does that number say? The pitch never lies; only the spectators speak truth. Look at the data: we had 12 shots, 3 on target; the opponent had 7 shots but 4 on target. Our expected goals (xG) was 0.6, theirs 1.4. This is not random. It reflects a basic tactical problem: we control the ball in midfield but lack sharpness in the final third. As I counted every ritual meter at Shanghai SIPG's training ground in 2026, Vũ Anh's 35-meter shots were never wasteful. Vietnamese players need decisive actions, not safe passes. Recall the AFF Cup 2026 semifinal against Thailand: we won 2-1 at home but lost 0-2 in Bangkok. I watched from the stands and saw the team playing at 80% intensity after the first half. That is not a fitness issue; it is a tempo-management issue. In Asia, when opponents press, we tend to retreat rather than proactively counter-press. The training ground is a stage without spectators, where the backup works to become the lead. Another perspective I want to bring: we often blame the coach or player quality, but the real problem lies in the system. In 15 years covering Chinese football, I saw them build academies worth hundreds of millions of dollars, yet they still failed at World Cup 2026. Conversely, Japan and South Korea do not have more money, but they have a clear philosophy from youth levels. Vietnam has PVF and HAGL, but do we have the patience to wait ten years for a generation? In the Suzhou bubble in 2026, I saw Oscar cry for his children, but I also saw Chen Wei, the backup keeper, train as if he would start tomorrow. That patience is what we need. Look at the losers in our history: the U-23 Vietnam at Changzhou 2026, they lost the final but created a cultural phenomenon. What happened after? Some players went abroad, but none truly succeeded. Văn Toàn went to Korea, returned after one season. Công Phượng went to Belgium, then returned. They did not fail for lack of talent, but because the Vietnamese football environment is not demanding enough for them to grow. The transfer market is where people call love by the number of euros, but real value lies on the pitch. A counterpoint might be: "We have improved; look at the FIFA ranking." But that is a trap. Our current rank of 35th does not reflect true strength. When we met Japan, we had only 25% possession (September 2026). That shows the gap remains huge. The pitch never lies: we beat Cambodia and Laos, but lose to mid-tier Asian teams like Jordan or Uzbekistan. To move forward, we must accept that defeat is part of the journey, not the end. Kazan taught me: tears do not belong to the losers, but to the ones who stay. The ones who stay are the fans, the supporters, and those who do not give up. In the defeat to China, I saw Vietnamese players collapse on the pitch, but I also saw fans still singing the anthem after the match. That is the power of staying. But we need more than emotion; we need a system that does not collapse under pressure. A specific statistic: from my tracking over the past three years, Vietnamese players abroad have only 20% of their total minutes as official playing time. In contrast, Thai players have 23%. This difference reflects training quality and mental preparation. We need players to go abroad at 18, not after they are too used to the V-League. At 22, I counted every ritual meter; at 31, I understand it is a promise. Finally, I want to talk about coach Kim Sang-sik. He is a good coach, but he has an uneven squad. In midfield, we lack a creative playmaker like Hoàng Đức in peak form. In defense, the lack of concentration in the final minutes is a recurring issue. In the China loss, the goal came from a set piece at minute 78. This shows a lack of sustained focus. The beat keeper must not fall asleep in the applause. In the coming days, the team will meet Australia again at Mỹ Đình. This is a chance to prove we can survive against a stronger side. But I do not expect a victory; I want to see a change in mindset. Let the players play with freedom, not fear. Let them take 35-meter shots like Vũ Anh used to do, instead of safe sideways passes. The training ground is a stage without spectators, where the understudy trains to become the lead. I write not to be read, but so that the pitch has a witness. Look at the losers; they teach us the most. From Kazan to Changzhou, from Suzhou to Mỹ Đình, all stories share a common theme: the ones who stay, the ones who do not give up, they are the future of Vietnamese football. When we learn to accept defeat as part of the journey, we will take longer strides. Do we have enough patience to wait? Will football leaders dare to change the youth system? The answer lies on the pitch, not in meetings. Let the losers speak, and we will hear the truth.