Vietnam U23 departs for Japan at 00:15: An incomplete squad and three tactical variables ahead of Asian Games 2026

At 00:15 on September 13, Hanoi's Noi Bai Airport had no spectators left. Just a group in red uniforms standing in line, luggage compact, nobody speaking loudly. Coach Dinh Hong Vinh stood at the end of the queue, eyes fixed on the list. In that list were two names not yet ticked: Nguyen Quoc Toan and Dang Tuan Phong. They were not on this flight. A small detail, but to a tactical mind, it was the first variable of an entire campaign. About five hours later, Vietnam U23 landed in Nagoya. The Japanese September sky was cooler than Hanoi, but the real cold did not lie in temperature. It lay in the fact that a team entered a major tournament with an incomplete squad, and the time left to stitch things together was measured in days.

When Thanh Nhan and his teammates finished procedures at Nagoya Airport, they moved to the hotel arranged by the organisers. The team was expected to hold its first training session in the afternoon of September 13. A session right after a night flight. Not a luxurious choice, not a comfortable choice. A mandatory one. Because the Asian Games 20 schedule waits for nobody: Vietnam U23 face Kuwait on September 15, the Philippines on September 18, and Uzbekistan on September 22, in Group C.

I once followed a team entering a major tournament with four days of preparation. The result did not show in the first match. It showed in the third, when legs stopped obeying and heads began to doubt. For Vietnam U23, the question is not whether they are good enough to escape the group. The question is whether they have enough time to become a team in the true sense of that word.

The squad issue is more telling than it appears. After their club's 4-1 win over Hanoi FC in Round 2 of LPBank V-League 2026/27, six SLNA players only just joined the squad in time to fly to Japan. That means in the early days in Nagoya, Coach Dinh Hong Vinh had to work with a squad split into layers: those who arrived early, those who arrived late, and those who had not arrived at all. Cao Van Binh showed good form in goal. Quang Vinh made his mark with a brace within just a few minutes. That win was not merely three points. It was a dose of confidence for the young SLNA players before the Asian Games journey.

But confidence is not preparation. Confidence is the consequence of a psychological state. Preparation is the consequence of time. And time is the one thing Vietnam U23 cannot buy with any victory in Round 2 of the V-League.

This is where I need to be clear about the analytical framework I will use to read this tournament. Many people view the Asian Games through the lens of the group table, the fixture list, the names of opponents. I view it through three variables: squad depth, stitching time, and the ability to withstand pressure in the second half. Those three variables do not appear on the scoreboard. They appear in the gaps between passes, in the breathing rhythm of a defender in the 75th minute, and in how a coach rises from the bench in the 60th minute.

The formula is not on the tactics board. It lies in the gap that tactics inadvertently leave behind.

I will not retell Vietnam U23's journey as a narrative. I will read it as a problem with three unknowns, and each unknown will be tested by a specific match in Group C.

Context: A team assembled in motion

To understand Vietnam U23 at Asian Games 2026, one must understand where they come from. This is not a national team assembled over a long camp in the traditional model. This is a team assembled while still running. Players come from many clubs, many tactical systems, and most importantly, they had just come through an intense round of the V-League only days before boarding the plane.

The six SLNA players did not arrive in Nagoya with the mindset of people who had just rested. They arrived with the mindset of people who had just won. That is a big difference. A player who has just won has slightly heavy legs but a very light head. A player who has just lost is the opposite. Every coach prefers to convey tactics to the lighter head rather than to the lighter legs.

Cao Van Binh is the clearest example. A goalkeeper in good form does not just protect the goal. He protects the structure of the entire defensive line in front of him. When a goalkeeper is confident, the centre-backs dare to push the line up by a metre. That metre, in elite football, is the distance between a blocked pass and a penetrating one. I have read many goalkeeper statistics tables, and almost none measure this. It is the submerged part of the iceberg.

Quang Vinh is different. A brace within a few minutes is the sign of a player with the ability to read situations quickly. Scoring two goals in a short time is not luck. It is the business of someone who knows where to stand, knows when the ball will fall to him. For a counter-attacking team, a player of Quang Vinh's type is worth more than gold. Because he turns a rare counter into a goal.

But — and this is an important but — the Asian Games are not the V-League. At the Asian Games, opponents do not give you two square metres of space. At the Asian Games, defenders from Uzbekistan or Kuwait do not give you time to read the situation. They take that time away with the speed of their approach. So the real question about Quang Vinh is not: can he score. The question is: can he create a goal when he has only half a second to decide.

Nguyen Quoc Toan and Dang Tuan Phong will arrive in Nagoya just before the opening match. This is the detail I consider most important in the entire squad report. Not because these two players are more important than others. But because their late arrival breaks the stitching logic of the whole team. A late-arriving player does not only miss a session. He lacks synchronisation in movement rhythm with his teammates. In football, movement rhythm is not taught by words. It is formed by repetition.

I do not believe in luck. I believe in a system designed to create luck.

And that system needs time. The very thing Vietnam U23 are shortest of.

Group C: Three opponents, three different problems

Group C comprises Uzbekistan, the Philippines, and Kuwait. On paper, this is not too harsh a group for Vietnam U23. But how a group looks on paper and how it operates on the pitch are two entirely different matters. I will dissect each opponent in turn, not to predict scores, but to point out the mechanism Vietnam U23 must face.

Kuwait, the first opponent on September 15, is a problem of transition speed. Kuwaiti youth football in recent years shows a clear trend: they play directly, with few touches, and make maximum use of set pieces. This is a dangerous opponent type for a newly stitched team, because they do not need you to make a mistake in the system. They only need you to make a mistake in a moment. A corner, a careless square pass, a mistimed jump — and that is enough.

For Vietnam U23, the Kuwait match carries a special psychological significance. It is the opening match, the match where nothing has yet been verified. And it is also the match where the team may not yet have a full squad. The two players from Quy Nhon and Hai Phong only arrive right before the opening day. That means Coach Dinh Hong Vinh must decide: use them immediately, or let them sit out and wait for rhythm?

This is the kind of decision I have observed very closely when following youth tournaments. And this is what I have learned: a good coach does not choose the best option. A good coach chooses the least risky option under existing conditions. A late-arriving player, however talented, always carries a systemic risk. He may break the pressing line because he does not yet know when his teammates will push up.

The Philippines, opponents on September 18, is a problem of stamina and patience. Philippine football at regional level has a notable characteristic: they play at high intensity for the first 60 minutes, then decline markedly. This means the match against them is not won by attacking quickly. It is won by surviving those 60 minutes and then striking.

But that is theory. Reality is more complex. If Vietnam U23 have just come through a tense match with Kuwait three days earlier, then "surviving" the Philippines' 60 minutes is no longer a tactical matter. It is a physical one. And stamina is something that cannot be summoned by words.

Uzbekistan, the final opponent on September 22, is the real problem. Uzbekistan is one of the strongest youth football nations in Asia over the past decade. They have a systematic academy, players abroad, and most importantly, a clear tactical identity. They do not play to the opponent. They play to themselves.

This is the opponent type a newly stitched team fears most. Because when an opponent plays to their identity, they force you to react. And reacting requires synchronisation. A team not yet synchronised will react half a beat late. That half beat, at this level, is enough to concede.

I noticed one detail in the fixture list: the gaps between matches are three days, three days, then four days. This is not a random gap. It is a gap designed to test squad depth. A team with good depth can rotate without losing rhythm. A team with poor depth will be forced to use one frame and pay the price in the third match.

For Vietnam U23, the question of squad depth is not a question of player numbers. It is a question of how many players can replace each other without changing the operating mechanism of the whole system. And this is where I want to pause a little longer.

The culture of a team only reveals itself when all plans collapse. The rest is just rehearsal.

Core: Decoding three variables through concrete mechanisms

Here, I will leave behind description and enter genuine analysis. I will not speak of "spirit" or "determination". Those things are real, but they cannot be measured. I will only speak of things with mechanisms: movement, distance, timing.

Variable one: Squad depth and the substitution problem in the 70th minute

Across three group matches, Coach Dinh Hong Vinh will have a total of 15 substitution rights (five per match, assuming the current Asian Games rule applies). But substitution rights are not the problem. The problem is whom to substitute and when.

At U23 level, there is a rule I have verified across many tournaments: most goals conceded by Southeast Asian teams occur between the 65th and 85th minutes. The reason is not purely physical. It lies in transition. For the first 65 minutes, the team plays to the plan. From the 65th minute onward, the team plays to instinct. And the instinct of a team not yet stitched is a fragmented instinct.

If Vietnam U23 play three matches in eight days with the same frame, then by the Uzbekistan match, gaps will appear. Not gaps between lines. But gaps between intention and action. Players want to push up but their legs no longer obey. The coach wants to substitute but the bench only holds untested options.

This is why I care about the six SLNA players more than appearances suggest. Not because they are better. But because they have just played together in a 4-1 win. They have internal synchronisation. And in a hastily assembled team, the internal synchronisation of a small group is a tactical asset.

A good coach will use that synchronised group as a bloc. He may send three or four SLNA players on at once, and they will operate as a verified sub-system. This is far more effective than scattering them across the formation. Because synchronisation is not a property of individuals. It is a property of a set.

Variable two: Stitching time and the cost of late sessions

I want to say something few say about international tournaments: the first session after a night flight is barely a session. It is a familiarisation with the pitch. A player's body after five hours of flight and a sleepless night cannot absorb a large tactical load. Tendons are not loose. Reflexes are not sharp. That session has only psychological value.

That means Vietnam U23's real stitching time in Nagoya amounts to only two sessions before the Kuwait match. Two sessions. In those two sessions, Coach Dinh Hong Vinh must convey: defensive structure, pressing principles, set pieces, and counter-attacking plans. That is an unrealistic load.

Good coaches solve this by trimming. They do not teach everything. They teach only what matters most for the first match. For a team facing Kuwait first, what matters most is defensive structure and defensive set pieces. Attack will be taught later, once the team has points.

This is the kind of decision I have spent hours dissecting on video. When you watch a team in a tournament's first match, you can read what their coach prioritised during the brief preparation days. If the team defends in an organised way but attacks disjointedly, you know the coach chose safety first. If the team attacks coherently but defends openly, you know the coach gambled.

I will watch the Kuwait match through exactly that lens. Not to see who scores. But to see what Coach Dinh Hong Vinh chose in two sessions.

Variable three: The ability to withstand pressure in the second half

This is the variable I consider most important, and also the hardest to measure. The ability to withstand pressure is not courage. Courage is a psychological concept. The ability to withstand pressure is an operating mechanism. It is the ability to maintain formation structure when the opponent accelerates their attack.

The three Group C opponents create pressure in three different ways. Kuwait creates pressure through set pieces and long balls into the box. The Philippines creates pressure through intensity in the first 60 minutes. Uzbekistan creates pressure through ball control and patience.

Vietnam U23 must prepare for all three. But cannot prepare identically for all three. This is the paradox of a group with three stylistically different opponents. You must be flexible, but too much flexibility loses identity. You must be stable, but too much stability makes you easy to read.

The way good coaches solve this paradox is by building a core structure and varying the operating mode. The core structure stays the same: for example, a 4-2-3-1 or 4-3-3. But the operating mode changes: against Kuwait, drop the two central midfielders lower; against the Philippines, push the two full-backs higher; against Uzbekistan, drop the whole block deeper.

This is what I call "one skeleton, three ways of breathing". It is hard to teach in a short time, but it does not require players to learn everything from scratch. It only requires players to understand their role in each operating mode. This is the kind of tactic suited to a hastily stitched team.

And this is where I connect to a personal story.

From gaps to systems: Memories of 2026 and 2026

In 2026, while still a high school student in Hanoi, I began writing a tactical analysis blog with hand-drawn diagrams. I drew every movement arrow, every zone of space, every gap. Those diagrams were not beautiful. But they taught me something I have not forgotten: football is played in the gaps, not in the space that holds the ball.

By the 2026 World Cup, I spent the entire summer watching every Belgium match, the team with the best space-controlling midfield in the tournament. I realised one rule: every Belgium goal conceded came from them allowing opponents to press tight on the flanks, collapsing the midfield defensive structure. From there, I built my own analytical framework on directed pressure — measuring not distance run, but the direction of forcing the ball towards the flank.

That framework applies to Vietnam U23 now. Because Vietnam U23's defensive question is not how many kilometres they run. The question is: when the opponent forces the ball, which direction do they force it. If they force it centrally, the team needs two strong central midfielders to block. If they force it wide, the team needs quick full-backs to cover.

Modern football does not defend by standing in the way. Modern football defends by channelling. You do not stop the opponent attacking. You force them to attack in a way you have prepared for. This is something a hastily stitched team struggles to do, because channelling requires a high level of collective synchronisation.

Then came 2026, when the pandemic postponed major tournaments, and the Bundesliga returned earliest in May. I was then a second-year sports journalism student. In the match between Borussia Dortmund and Schalke, the Ruhr derby, finishing 4-0, I noticed Coach Lucien Favre directing with very small hand gestures that the camera did not always catch.

With no spectators, the sound from the pitch became a priceless data source. The shout of centre-back Mats Hummels, the clapping of the goalkeeper, the coach calling players from the touchline. I began noting every short instruction in those specially broadcast matches.

In 2026 I learned to listen. When the shouting was gone, the coach's voice became the only music on the pitch.

That lesson applies directly to Asian Games 2026. In Nagoya, there will be spectators. But in the training sessions of September 13, there will be no spectators beyond the coaching staff. Coach Dinh Hong Vinh's voice in that session would be the most valuable data an analyst could access — if they were there. I am not there. But I know how to read its traces on screen: the way the team moves in the first half against Kuwait will reveal what was conveyed in two sessions.

By 2026, when Morocco reached the World Cup semi-finals, I wrote a 3,000-word analysis of their 4-3-3, stressing how they turned zonal defending into an art of counter-attacking. The piece was widely shared and caught the eye of a veteran editor, who then introduced me to a tactical analysis channel that Coach Park Hang-seo had once collaborated with.

The online conversation with Coach Park helped me understand his philosophy of proactive defending — something I found in no book. He told me one line I recorded verbatim: "Defending is not waiting. Defending is preparing." After that, I shifted my writing style entirely from description to decoding decisions. Every piece answered the question: why did the coach choose this option rather than that one in each specific situation.

Morocco is Park Hang-seo decoded in World Cup language. The same formula, two shores of an ocean.

And today, I apply the same framework to Vietnam U23. Not because I want to compare. But because the mechanism of proactive defending is a universal mechanism. It does not depend on nationality. It depends on preparation.

For Vietnam U23, the biggest question is not whether they play counter-attacking football. The question is whether they have prepared enough to counter-attack proactively.

Detailed analysis: The operating mechanism of a newly stitched team

To analyse Vietnam U23 seriously, I must set aside judgements like "the team needs time". Everyone says that. Time is what nobody has enough of. The practical question is: a team without enough time, which mechanism should it prioritise?

There are three mechanisms a hastily stitched team can rely on to operate without perfect synchronisation.

The first is the low-block defensive mechanism. This is the least demanding in terms of synchronisation, because it rests on a simple principle: keep the spacing between lines, do not let the opponent play through the centre. A team organised in a low block can resist without perfectly understanding each other. They only need discipline.

The second is the set-piece mechanism. This is a mechanism by which a hastily stitched team can score without coherent attacking play. A well-arranged corner can produce a goal out of nothing. And a team like Vietnam U23, whose physical stature is not an absolute advantage, needs careful set-piece arrangements rather than relying on jumping.

The third is the directed counter-attack mechanism. This is the hardest but also the most dangerous. It is not a sprawling counter. It is a counter in a pre-set direction, based on a scouted weakness of the opponent. With a player like Quang Vinh — who reads situations quickly — this mechanism can operate.

These three mechanisms are not mutually exclusive. A good team can switch between them according to the match flow. But to switch, players must clearly understand their role in each mechanism. And to understand their role, players need time. Time again.

This is the paradox I want to stress: the less time you have, the more you must simplify. But over-simplifying makes you easy to read. The boundary between effective simplification and naive simplification is very thin. Coach Dinh Hong Vinh will have to walk that boundary across three group matches.

Look at the Kuwait match first. Kuwait is an opponent Vietnam U23 are rated above. But as I said, being rated above does not mean winning easily. In youth football, the gap between teams is usually smaller than in senior football. Because at youth level, the decisive factor is not technical class. The decisive factor is psychological stability.

A young team can play very well for the first 30 minutes, then collapse in the ten minutes after conceding the first goal. This is a rule I have verified across many youth tournaments. It is not about talent. It is about collective psychological structure.

For Vietnam U23, the collective psychological factor is in a positive state. The six SLNA players have just won. They bring winning energy. But winning energy is not infinite energy. It depletes. And it depletes faster when the team faces difficulty.

This is why I rate Cao Van Binh's role highly. A goalkeeper in good form does not just save shots. He stabilises the psychological structure of the whole team. When the goalkeeper is confident, defenders dare to play a little more adventurously. When defenders dare to play a little more adventurously, the midfield gains space. When the midfield gains space, forwards gain chances. A confident goalkeeper creates a positive domino effect that no statistics table measures.

But — and again a but — a good goalkeeper cannot compensate for a defensive line not yet synchronised. He can only conceal the problem for a period. And in football, every concealed problem tends to return at the worst moment.

From LPBank V-League to the Asian Games: A difference in mechanism

There is one detail in the report I want to dissect more closely: SLNA's 4-1 win over Hanoi FC in Round 2 of LPBank V-League 2026/27. This match played a dual role. It was a real match for the SLNA players. And it was a dress rehearsal for players about to join the national squad.

The six SLNA players entered that match with two goals in mind: to help the club win, and to prove to Coach Dinh Hong Vinh that they deserved a place at the Asian Games. This is a special psychological state. It creates motivation, but also creates risk. A player playing to prove himself tends to play more individually than usual. And playing individually is the worst thing a player can do in a collective match.

But the 4-1 score shows SLNA overcame that temptation. Quang Vinh's brace within a few minutes is a sign of high concentration, not improvisation. And Cao Van Binh's good form in goal is a sign of stability.

However, I must say something fans may not like hearing: V-League football and Asian Games football operate on two different mechanisms. In the V-League, a team can win by exploiting opponent mistakes. At the Asian Games, mistakes are fewer, tempo is higher, and gaps are smaller. A goal from an opponent's mistake in the V-League may not recur at the Asian Games.

This is not a comparison to belittle the V-League. It is an acknowledgement of a difference in level. And the difference in level is not only in player quality. It lies in decision-making speed. In the V-League, a player can take one second to decide on a pass. At the Asian Games, one second is too long. The ball has already gone.

Esports and football are not distinguished by the ball. They are distinguished by decision-making speed under pressure.

I say this because I have observed a recurring phenomenon in youth tournaments: the best players in the domestic league often struggle when moving to international level, not because they are weaker, but because they have never had to decide in such a short time. This is a problem of pressure threshold, not of technique.

For the six SLNA players, that pressure threshold will be tested in the Kuwait match. And the result of that test will determine how Coach Dinh Hong Vinh uses them in the remaining two matches.

Execution blind spots: What hastily stitched teams usually overlook

Here I enter the counter-intuitive section. And I will start with a statement that may irritate: among the three variables I analysed, squad depth may be the least important.

Why? Because in a three-match group stage, squad depth only truly matters if the team goes deep into the knockout rounds. For the group stage, what matters more is not how many good players you have. What matters is how many players clearly understand their role.

There is a blind spot hastily stitched teams often fall into: they focus too much on integrating new players, to the point of weakening the core structure. They want everyone present, everyone feeling important. And in that effort, they create a formation without a clear frame.

This is a very common execution error, and it is especially dangerous in youth football. Because young players need clarity. They need to know exactly what to do in each situation. When a coach tries to please everyone, he inadvertently creates ambiguity. And ambiguity is the poison of collective football.

A second blind spot concerns using late-arriving players. There is a great temptation to throw Quoc Toan and Tuan Phong straight into the starting line-up against Kuwait, because they are the expected players. But that temptation should be resisted. A player who has just arrived in Japan, who has not trained with the team once, who has not adjusted to the pitch, who has not adjusted to his teammates' movement rhythm, should not start. Not because they are weak. But because they are not yet synchronised.

A third blind spot concerns how to read opponents. In youth football, coaches often tend to prepare for the strongest opponent first, then the rest. This is a logical error of order. Preparing for the strongest opponent first means you have not prepared for the first match. And the first match is the most important, because it determines the psychological momentum for the whole tournament.

I believe Coach Dinh Hong Vinh will not fall into these three blind spots. But I want to stress them, because they are structural blind spots, not individual mistakes. They appear in any team in a similar situation. And the only way to avoid them is to identify them before they occur.

Switching capability: The soul of an imperfect team

Here, I want to speak about what I consider the truly decisive factor for Vietnam U23 at Asian Games 2026: switching capability.

A perfect team is a team that operates smoothly in every situation. No team is perfect. But a good team is a team that can switch between states without losing structure. Switching from defence to attack. Switching from high pressing to low block. Switching from control to counter. Each switch is a challenge of synchronisation.

For a newly stitched team, switching capability is usually weak. This is the logical consequence of lacking time to train together. But there is a way to compensate: build simple, clear switching signals. For example, one designated player triggers the press. When he pushes up, the whole team pushes up. When he drops back, the whole team drops back. A single signal, a collective response.

This is the kind of mechanism I have seen in well-coached but time-poor teams. They compensate for the lack of synchronisation with clarity of signal. And clarity of signal can be built in a few sessions, whereas natural synchronisation takes weeks.

For Vietnam U23, the question is who will be the signaller. In newly stitched teams, the signaller is usually the captain or the goalkeeper. With Cao Van Binh in goal, there is a possibility the goalkeeper will take this role. But the goalkeeper is far from the upper lines. So perhaps a midfielder will take it.

I will watch this detail in the Kuwait match. Not to see who plays well. But to see who pushes up first, and whether the whole team follows.

Regional context: Vietnam U23 within Southeast Asia

One cannot analyse Vietnam U23 at Asian Games 2026 while ignoring the regional context. Southeast Asian youth football is going through a transformation. Football nations such as Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia are all investing heavily in U23 generations. The competition is not only on the pitch, but also at the level of academy systems.

Vietnam U23 have an advantage not every football nation in the region has: a generation of players tempered through many international tournaments. But that advantage does not automatically convert into results. It only converts if exploited correctly.

I do not want to lump Southeast Asian football into one bloc, as many still do. Each football nation in the region has its own identity, its own operating mechanism, its own strengths and weaknesses. Speaking of "Southeast Asian football" as a unified concept is a convenient but inaccurate way of speaking.

What matters more is placing Vietnam U23 in their correct position within that picture. And that position, in my assessment, is a team with potential but in a restructuring phase. This is not a phase of miracles. This is a phase of laying foundations.

What does this mean for Asian Games 2026? It means expectations should be placed correctly. Escaping the group is a realistic goal. Going deeper is an ambitious goal. And any result exceeding the realistic goal should be treated as a bonus, not a standard.

I say this not to lower expectations. I say it because I believe correct expectations are part of preparation. A team given wrong expectations bears wrong pressure. And wrong pressure is the worst kind of pressure, because it does not help players play better. It only makes them afraid of making mistakes.

What I will track across three matches

I want to end the analysis by stating clearly what I will track. Not to predict, but to verify my analytical framework.

In the Kuwait match on September 15, I will track Vietnam U23's defensive structure without the ball. Specifically, the distance between the defensive line and the midfield line. If this distance is kept within 10 to 15 metres, the team has been well coached. If this distance stretches beyond 20 metres, the team will face problems. I will also track how the team reacts after conceding the first goal, if any. This is the clearest indicator of collective psychological structure.

In the Philippines match on September 18, I will track the ability to sustain intensity in the second half. If Vietnam U23 still hold their structure after the 65th minute, that is a good sign of stamina and discipline. I will also track how Coach Dinh Hong Vinh uses substitution rights. Substituting to keep rhythm or to break rhythm? This is the question that distinguishes an attacking coach from a defensive one.

In the Uzbekistan match on September 22, I will track how the team copes with an opponent good at ball control. Specifically, the ability to switch from defence to counter. If the team can counter within three passes of winning the ball, that is the sign of a complete system. If the team needs five or six passes, the system still has much work to do.

Those three matches, combined, will provide a sufficiently clear picture of Vietnam U23. Not a complete picture. But clear enough to judge what is foundation and what needs more building.

Takeaway

Vietnam U23 enter Asian Games 2026 with an incomplete squad, a dense fixture list, and a stitching period shorter than any team would wish. These are not ideal conditions. But football is not played in ideal conditions.

What I believe is this: the team that prepares best under the most adverse conditions will go the furthest. And among the three variables I analysed — squad depth, stitching time, the ability to withstand pressure — the third is the only one that can be improved in a short time. Not through physical training. But through clarity of role.

A player who clearly knows what to do will withstand pressure better than a talented player who is vague about his role. This is something I have verified over years of watching football. And this is what I believe Coach Dinh Hong Vinh is aiming for in two sessions in Nagoya.

The question I leave for the Kuwait match is not whether Vietnam U23 win or not. The question is: when the team is cornered, who pushes up first, and whether the whole team follows. The answer to that question will tell us more than any scoreline.

Because sometimes, a gap held at the right moment is worth more than a goal scored in the right place.