Vietnam U23 and the order to 'tear the net' of the Philippines: when goals don't come from chances

On the training pitch in Nagoya, the rain started early. On September 16, Vietnam U23 stepped onto a wet surface, and I noticed one detail that domestic media almost entirely overlooked: nearly every finishing drill was completed off a cross from the flanks, not from central combination play. That choice says more than any statement from the coaching staff.

In their opening match against Kuwait, Vietnam U23 drew 1-1. I watched the replay three times, and each time I saw the same problem: the ball reached the forwards at the right moment, in the right position, and then it simply did not go in. What the press is calling an "order to tear the net" of the Philippines is, to me, an admission. A team only receives an order to score many goals when it knows it is scoring far too few.

I have declared war on defensive football since 2026, and nobody has yet had the courage to accept the challenge. But in Nagoya this time, the problem is not the defence. The problem is how to put the ball in the net when the whole team does everything right except the final touch.

Group C after the first round looks fairly clear. Uzbekistan crushed the Philippines 5-1, taking 3 points with a goal difference of plus 4. Vietnam and Kuwait each have 1 point after their draw. The Philippines sit bottom with 0 points and a minus 4 goal difference. That means the September 18 match against the Philippines is a must-win, because the final group match against Uzbekistan will be the hardest test of the entire group stage.

What deserves credit is that coach Dinh Hong Vinh looked the problem straight in the eye. He and his staff sat down and reviewed, in detail, the ability to capitalise on chances and finishing efficiency. That is the right response. But there is a truth nobody wants to say out loud: reviewing chances does not create goals. Only composure in the decisive moment creates goals.

Vietnam U23's problem is not the ability to create chances, but the ability to turn chances into goals, and that is a psychological problem more than a technical one.

Look at how the players reacted after each missed chance. Against Kuwait, after the second wasted shot, the forwards began to pass more instead of shooting. That is the classic sign of an attack losing faith in itself. When a striker fears missing, he will miss. This is not a story about ball technique; it is a story about exam-room nerves.

Tactically, the next opponent poses an entirely different problem from Kuwait. The Philippines have just conceded five goals to Uzbekistan. A team like that does not charge forward in the next match. They will drop deep, build a dense defensive block, and try to slow the game down by any means, legal or otherwise. This is not a match where Vietnam can bank on space behind the opponent's back line.

The problem now is breaking down a defensive block, not exploiting space. The two require different skills. Against Kuwait, Vietnam controlled the ball and found space down the flanks. Against the Philippines, Vietnam will face heavy congestion inside the penalty area, where every cross is blocked and every shot is met by a body.

And the rain in Nagoya complicates everything further. On a wet pitch, the ball runs faster and is harder to control. The short three-touch combinations that were already difficult become a gamble. But here is the crux many overlook: a wet pitch actually suits crosses from the flanks and set pieces. A wet ball travels truer through the air than a dry one, and aerial balls into the box become more deadly.

So the coaching staff drilling finishes off flank crosses in rainy conditions is not accidental. It is a deliberate decision. With a packed defence ahead and a wet pitch underfoot, attacking through the middle is a dead end. Attacking down the flanks, delivering early crosses, heading, and exploiting set pieces is the path to survival.

But this is where I have to ask a blunt question: is that a solution, or merely a coping mechanism? A team that can only score from crosses and set pieces is a team limiting itself. And at 68, I have watched far too many Vietnam national teams sing the same tune in decisive moments and then collapse to that very tune.

There is one more thing nobody dares to say. The Kuwait result benefited Uzbekistan more than Vietnam. A draw in which an equal opponent also gets just 1 point, while Uzbekistan put five past the Philippines, means the goal difference is quietly revealing the true balance of power. If Vietnam and Uzbekistan end level on points before the final round, that number will be either a verdict or a pardon.

This leads to a paradox coach Dinh Hong Vinh must confront. He needs to beat the Philippines to gain points, but he also needs to win big to improve goal difference. Winning big against a team sitting in a low block is a problem that even the biggest sides struggle with. Germany, Brazil and France have all laboured against 10-man defensive blocks inside the box.

Modern football is suffocating under those who fear losing so much they forget how to win. If the Philippines choose that approach, they are playing a risky game for themselves, but also a risky one for Vietnam. A team that gambles by not gambling will make the opponent pay if the opponent loses patience.

As for Vietnam, the scariest thing is not the Philippines. It is the clock. If Vietnam has not scored after the first 30 minutes, the pressure will fall on the young players' shoulders. A 22 or 23-year-old attack is not an attack that stands firm under time pressure. My experience following youth tournaments in Japan, South Korea and Qatar shows this clearly: Vietnam's youth teams win when they score early, and usually crumble when a match drifts to the 60th minute without a goal.

This is where I want to argue against myself. Perhaps I am being too pessimistic. Perhaps the coaching staff already have a plan for the scenario where they do not score early. Perhaps those forwards drilling finishes in the rain will prove me wrong on September 18, and I will have to make fun of myself for it on my podcast. I have been wrong many times before, and I have survived. That is the rule of this trade.

But if I am right, the Philippines match is not a match of tactics. It is a match of spirit. Football is never just numbers on a scoreboard. Sometimes it is only a question: who among the 22 people on the pitch, at the moment the clock strikes the 85th minute, still has the courage to take the final shot?

My prediction: Vietnam beat the Philippines, but not through a spectacular "net-tearing" display. If there is more than one goal in the first half, I will buy beer for the whole bar in Osaka. But a more likely outcome is a hard-fought win, possibly from a set piece, and that is what matters — because the Uzbekistan match is the true destiny of Group C.

I do not need to chase the net-tearing trend. I only need to be right. And being right, in this case, means recognising that a team that learns to score pretty goals against a team that knows how to score ugly ones is always the one that loses out. You think I am wrong? I would very much like to hear it, after the final whistle on September 18.