Under Hanoi Rain, the Controversial Tactics of Vietnam Women's Team and Lessons from 'Lioness'

The rain that year washed away many things, but it did not wash away the memory of a summer. I stood on the stands of Hang Day Stadium, watching a friendly match between the Vietnam Women's National Team and a European women's club. Rain poured down from the start of the second half, the pitch waterlogged, but what caught my attention was not the score or the plays. It was the way Vietnam Women's Team was defending with numbers, ceding the game to the opponent, and waiting for lightning counterattacks. For thirty-nine years I have observed football, from my early days as a young reporter in Madrid to following Chengdu Rongcheng from zero. I have never seen a tactic as fiercely debated as the one the Vietnam Women's Team head coach is implementing this season. Not because it is failing – the team is still winning – but because it goes against every fan expectation of beautiful attacking football. The context needs to be clarified. The Vietnam Women's Team, after success at the SEA Games and World Cup qualifiers, is in a generational transition. Many key players have left the team, young players have been promoted from the academy. The head coach – once heavily criticized for negative defensive football – has surprisingly unveiled a new tactical system: zonal defense combined with selective high pressing. But what confuses experts and fans alike is how the team constantly shifts the game's dynamics, following no linear order. In the last three matches, Vietnam Women's Team's PPDA (passes allowed per defensive action) has dropped sharply from 14.2 to 9.8. But the paradox is they are not pressing constantly – they press in waves, as if waiting for an invisible signal from the coaching bench. There are long periods where the team drops deep, concedes possession, then suddenly pushes the entire team forward within 30 seconds. Fans in the stands jeered, calling it 'cowardly football.' But I saw something else. I recall a conversation with an assistant coach after a training session at the youth training center. He told me: 'We are not trying to control the game the way people think. We control by making the opponent think they are in control.' That statement reminded me of a similar controversy in the entertainment world – when actress Zoe Saldaña defended the nonlinear structure of 'Lioness' Season 3 against critics' backlash. She said: 'Just keep watching! Promise you won't regret it!' – a 'trust the process' message that any football coach would understand. The key point I want to analyze here is: Vietnam Women's Team's tactic is not 'cowardly' as people think. It is a complex system requiring extreme tactical discipline and each player's ability to read the game. When I reviewed the match footage against the European team, I realized the high presses were not random – they were triggered by specific signals: when the opponent's center-back received the ball between the two penalty areas, or when the opponent's full-back pushed too high. It is a conditioned response system, practiced hundreds of times on the training ground. But here is the counter-intuitive part: the Vietnam Women's Team's total distance covered in these matches is actually higher than last season. The players run more, but they run 'smart' – moving to block passing lanes, not chasing the ball. Data from VangBong.vn shows the team has the highest 'effective running' index (runs leading to opponent positional changes) among Southeast Asian national teams. But fans do not see that – they only see the team defending, and they are not happy. The rain at Hang Day Stadium that day further highlighted the tactic's complexity. The slippery surface made short passing risky, yet Vietnam Women's Team still attempted short passes in dangerous areas – a seemingly crazy decision. But when I looked closely, I realized they were deliberately luring the opponent forward, creating space behind the opponent's defensive line. And as predicted, in the 78th minute, a long diagonal pass from the sweeper opened up the match's only goal. Three hundred days of a stadium without a single round of applause, I heard the players' breathing more clearly on the empty stands. I write about the ball, but I keep the beat with the hearts of the people who kick it. And the heart of Vietnam Women's Team is now beating to a rhythm not everyone can hear. The head coach is building something bigger than a tactic – he is building an identity. And like Saldaña with 'Lioness,' he is betting that fans will understand by season's end. From zero, I know that the dressing room door only opens when you dare to wait in the rain. I have stood in the rain for 39 years, and I have learned that the most controversial tactics are often the ones with the farthest vision. The question is not whether this tactic is 'beautiful' – but whether it will take the team to the 2027 World Cup. And the answer, like Saldaña's show, can only be judged when the season ends. The last summer under the rain of Chengdu's pitch taught me that football never operates the way outsiders see it. It operates the way those inside feel it. And when I watched the young girls of Vietnam Women's Team walk into the dressing room after the match, soaked but eyes shining, I knew this tactic – despite the criticism – is creating a new belief. The belief that Vietnamese football can play its own way, not the way others expect. I will keep following. Because I have learned that the greatest stories in football often begin with the most misunderstood things. And perhaps, like Saldaña's promise to her audience, everything will be rewarded when the final pieces fall into place.