Vietnam Basketball's 15-Year Expectation: From 'Long-Termism' Ambitions to the Reality of Filling Potholes

In 2026, when the Ho Chi Minh City Basketball Association organized the first national championship, many leaders had not yet heard the concept of "youth development." They simply knew that if they wanted professional basketball, the core issue was having players. The story of Vietnam basketball over the past 15 years is not necessarily a heroic tale of rapid breakthrough, but rather a portrait of silent efforts, painful setbacks, and a arduous path to build foundations. I started this profession in an era when spectators came to stadiums mostly to watch foreign athletes compete. At that time, Vietnamese basketball was like a weak seedling, fragile under the giant shadow of football and badminton. There was no real professional league system, no uniform youth competitions, and the so-called "reserves" were largely amateur players who trained on weekends. We often complained that the "foundation was too thin." But in reality, the problem wasn't just the thinness; it was that no one was truly willing to invest time and money to build it before expecting harvests. The 2026-2026 period is considered a "staging area" with the first National Championship and expanded U18, U22 tournaments. However, from my observational experience, the youth national teams at that time suffered a severe shortage of height and physique compared to regional averages. This was the inevitable consequence of never investing in real basketball talent schools. Many coaches of that era had to accept a harsh truth: the U18 national team had players standing 1.68 meters tall playing alongside 1.85-meter guards. Without physical strength, without tactics, there was only pure passion and blind shots at the rim. The first turning point emerged from the "Basketball Nursery" movement initiated by private clubs like Saigon Heat and Hanoi Heroes. They did not wait for state subsidies; instead, they spent their own money to rent courts, hire coaches, and scout talent from primary schools. This was the method of "filling the holes"—filling the gaps left by the old system. As a result, between 2026 and 2026, the number of players registering for U13 and U15 competitions increased significantly. However, a new problem arose: the disparity between big cities and remote areas. Basketball became a sport for the urban middle class, creating an invisible yet extremely rigid barrier. The peak of optimism was the preparation campaign for SEA Games 31. At that time, the senior men's national team coaching staff announced a 5-year "sprint" roadmap. They believed that with increased budget and the participation of overseas Vietnamese players, Vietnam could reach the top 4 in the region. But elite sports are not magic, nor does it respond to illusory expectations. The reality was that when we stepped into the tournament, we saw a technical gap as wide as a abyss. Teams like the Philippines or Indonesia had professional basketball systems for a long time, while the Vietnamese national team was still trying to perfect basic techniques like ball cutting, zone defense, and fast break transitions. However, there is an interesting fact many overlook: Vietnamese women's basketball has made significant progress by learning from Korean and Japanese basketball. Young Vietnamese coaches were sent for training in Asia and brought back more modern playbooks. This proves that a "non-flat path" does not mean there is "only one way." Diversifying approaches, learning from regional basketball systems similar in climate and physique, is the key, rather than blindly copying the American model. In 2026, when the National Championship officially returned with a more professional format, a question was asked: Is the return of private clubs enough to pull Vietnamese basketball out of the pit? The answer is not enough. Because the core problem does not lie in how many teams there are, but whether the grassroots training system is truly open. Currently, a talented U18 player in Ho Chi Minh City rarely has a chance to enter the senior national team if he lacks connections with head coaches. The fragmentation of talent continues at the bottom of society, where poor children without access to standard courts are left behind. I recall the sharing of a former women's national team head coach in 2026: "We do not lack players; we lack an environment for them to grow." That sentence felt like a knife cutting into the courage of professionals. We often mention the influx of private club capital, but forget that this capital only flows into the visible tip of the iceberg. The submerged part—sports medicine, nutrition, sports psychology, and especially large-scale amateur tournaments—remains empty. The encouraging thing is that since 2026, the Vietnam Basketball Association (VBA) has begun building an online player data system. This is seen as an effort to "fill the hole" in data, helping managers get a more comprehensive view of the next generation. However, data is just a tool; how it is used is the real issue. If selection decisions still rely on intuition or group interests, then all numbers are meaningless. Looking back at the 15-year journey, I realize Vietnamese basketball is passing through a "filtering" stage. An era where amateurs must yield to real professionals. There is no longer room for those who only love the sport but lack tactical understanding. Nor is there room for sponsors who focus on superficial advertising rather than sustainable investment. The question posed today is not "Does Vietnamese basketball have a future?" but "Are we brave enough to accept the truth that its future requires 20 years, not 5?" Clubs are trying to fill holes left by history, but each filled hole often reveals a deeper one. There may be more failures, more stumbles that discourage fans. But there are also beautiful moments, like the women's team reaching the SEA Games runners-up position, or young players like Nguyen Hoang An and Tran Quang Huy catching attention with stylish performances. Basketball does not need empty praise songs. It needs people brave enough to look straight at the gaps, willing to sweat in solitude to fill them. And if the past 15 years have taught me anything, it is this: patience is not waiting; it is continuous action even when results are not yet visible. The road ahead is still long, but at least we are beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel. That light is not brilliant, but it is enough for people to dare to keep walking.