Amid squad crisis, Vietnam women's volleyball seeks answers for Asiad 20

In a quiet corner of the arena at the recently concluded Asian Championship, I saw head coach Nguyễn Tuấn Kiệt sitting silently, his fingers tracing the registration list. Beside him, two young girls, Phạm Quỳnh Hương (18) and Bùi Thị Ánh Thảo (17), were bending down to tie their shoelaces, preparing for a recovery session. No one said a word, but everyone understood: the team was facing an unprecedented crisis.

The journey to Asiad 20 (the 20th Asian Games, scheduled from September 19 to October 4, 2026, in Aichi-Nagoya, Japan) has never been this rocky. At the Asian Championship held in China, the Vietnamese women's team had to compete with a severely depleted squad. Nguyễn Thị Uyên, the key setter and crucial link in the reception system, suffered a serious injury right in the middle of the tournament. Vi Thị Như Quỳnh, who often shared the attacking load with Trần Thị Thanh Thúy, was absent due to personal health issues. The team was left with only three healthy outside hitters, two of whom were teenagers.

After years of observing Vietnamese women's volleyball, I realize a harsh truth: the team's tactical system is built on the foundation of stability in the reception phase. Nguyễn Thị Uyên is not just a setter; she is the one who ensures the quality of the first pass – the prerequisite for the fast, varied playing style characteristic of Asian volleyball. Như Quỳnh, though not a prolific attacking star, is the one who shares the scoring burden with Thanh Thúy, preventing opponents from focusing all their attention on the number one star.

The absence of both reminds me of a match at SEA Games 33 in Thailand last year, when the team was still at full strength. The coordination between Uyên and Thanh Thúy in perfect reception situations created lightning-fast attacks that left opposing blockers reeling. But now, with the two youngest outside hitters potentially shouldering the reception duties, I worry that the perfect-pass rate will drop significantly. This means the team will often fall into a reactive position, forced to attack from out-of-system situations – where their fast, varied style is nearly useless.

The key point is that the team is facing the risk of becoming overly dependent on Trần Thị Thanh Thúy for scoring. In a major tournament like the Asiad, where top Asian teams like China, Japan, and Thailand boast experienced and disciplined blocking systems, having only one attacking spearhead is a tactical death sentence. They will focus all their energy on shutting down Thanh Thúy, exhausting her and reducing her attacking efficiency.

I once witnessed something similar happen to the Vietnamese men's team at a SEA Games a few years ago. When the main attacking weapon was neutralized, the whole team fell into confusion, with no one daring to take responsibility for scoring. The match ended quickly, and the faces of the young players showed clear disappointment. That lesson remains relevant today.

The pressure mounts as the regulation for Asiad 20 only allows a roster of 12 players, two fewer than at the Asian Championship. This means Coach Nguyễn Tuấn Kiệt will almost certainly have to cut one outside hitter from the list. Based on what I know, the team currently has 11 core players, leaving only one vacant spot. This is a decision with no room for error, as just one more injury would leave the team in a state of exhaustion.

The names mentioned to fill the vacancy all bring a sense of unease. Đinh Thị Thúy (LPBank Ninh Bình) performed poorly at the AVC Cup. Nguyễn Thị Phương (Binh chủng Thông tin) and Phạm Thị Nguyệt Anh (military team) have had moments of brilliance but lack the consistency needed at the international level. Hoàng Hồng Hạnh (Hóa chất Đức Giang Lào Cai), Đỗ Lại Yến Nhi (Geleximco Hưng Yên), and Trần Tú Linh (Hóa chất Đức Giang Lào Cai) remain significant unknowns.

Based on my experience following the team's matches over the years, I believe Coach Nguyễn Tuấn Kiệt may have to change his tactical direction. Instead of trying to maintain a fast-paced offense reliant on perfect receptions, the team might have to shift to a solid defensive style, prioritizing blocking and digging to wait for counter-attack opportunities. This is a pragmatic adjustment, accepting limitations in attacking power to ensure defensive solidity.

But can a defensive style compete with Asia's top teams? I am not sure. At the Asiad, where every match carries FIVB world ranking points, a poor result will directly affect the team's position in the race for a spot at the Los Angeles 2028 Olympics. This is not just a tournament for experience; it is a harsh test for an entire development cycle.

I recall an afternoon in Chiang Mai when I spoke with a former Thai women's volleyball player about the differences between men's and women's volleyball. He said: "In women's volleyball, mental stability sometimes matters more than physical strength. A young team can play well in one set, but to maintain form throughout a long tournament, they need experienced players." That statement still echoes in my mind whenever I think about the Vietnamese team ahead of Asiad 20.

The gap between a young, enthusiastic but inexperienced team and a seasoned, composed one is enormous. In volleyball, naivety is often punished mercilessly by opponents who know how to exploit weaknesses. Will the two young girls, Quỳnh Hương and Ánh Thảo, have enough composure to stand firm under the pressure of tens of thousands of Japanese spectators? Can they stay calm when facing heavy serves from Asia's top hitters?

There is a detail that haunts me. In a recent practice session, I saw Thanh Thúy take the initiative to pull the two young girls aside, patiently teaching them footwork and movement techniques for receiving. She didn't say much, but her eyes said it all: a mix of worry and belief. Perhaps, in this crisis, the guidance of the senior players will be the greatest mental support for the young athletes.

Asiad 20 is not just a tournament. For the Vietnamese women's volleyball team, it is a moment to confront a bigger question about succession. The difficulties ahead could be an opportunity for the younger generation to learn, grow, and prove themselves. But it could also be a wound that is hard to heal if things spiral out of control.

I look up at the empty stands of the arena, where the last fans have left after the match. They left behind clean rows of seats, like a ritual of returning the space to the court. Perhaps the team also needs to learn to give back what they have received – the expectations, the trust, and even the criticism – with a performance worthy of the occasion, even in the most difficult circumstances. A fragile record only endures when touched with reverence, not with the desire to break it. And for this team right now, the important thing is not to break records, but to hold on to belief.