Tien Minh Wins All-Vietnamese Qualifier, Still Burning with Desire at 43

When I stepped into the arena this morning, I kept my old habit: arriving early to listen to the sound of shuttlecocks hitting rackets echoing through the empty corridors. That echo led me to a qualifying match that few paid attention to, but for me, this is where the most interesting story of this year's Vietnam Open began. Nguyen Tien Minh, 43, the player who once held Vietnam's number 1 position for many years, has just advanced through the qualifying round at the Super 100 tournament - one of the lower-tier events in the BWF World Tour system, with limited ranking points compared to Super 1000 or 750 tournaments. What makes this match special is not just the victory, but the manner in which he earned it. Minh's opponent was not a promising young player specializing in singles. Nguyen Hoang Thai Son, much younger than him, comes from a different background: he specializes in doubles. After the match, Minh himself confirmed to me that his opponent had strength and speed, but the key weakness he exploited was the lack of experience in navigating complex tactical situations in singles. A doubles player accustomed to controlling only part of the court with a partner, when stepping into singles, must cover the entire 13.4-meter length, attack and defend simultaneously, continuously. This transition requires time and dense exposure to singles that Thai Son does not yet have. This match rekindled memories of the generational transitions in Vietnamese badminton. I remember in 2026, when I was still a young reporter, it was I who documented Minh's entry into the world top 10 - a historic achievement for Vietnamese badminton. Now, nearly 15 years later, he is still here. But this win is not a signal of a resounding comeback; rather, it is a testament to wisdom and tactical choices based on experience. The tournament also stands out with the participation of more than 300 athletes from 27 countries and territories, according to officially announced information from the organizers. Watching Minh in recent years, I have noticed a subtle shift in his play: no longer possessing the explosive speed of his youth, he has transitioned to an opportunistic style, reading situations early and maximizing opponent mistakes. At age 43, he cannot sustain continuous movement pressure over three high-intensity games. But in a qualifying match against a player unfamiliar with singles, what he needs is not physical endurance, but the ability to force his opponent to move more, to constantly make difficult decisions in long rallies. That is how a veteran player "kills" a younger opponent with better physical conditioning: not through power, but through patience and the ability to apply psychological pressure in every exchange. However, when I look at the results of other Vietnamese players, I see a less rosy picture. Le Duc Phat, one of the promising young players, is dealing with knee and heel injuries. Information I received from the support team indicates he required pain-relief injections before his match. Having a young athlete use painkillers to compete at a Super 100 event - not one of the highest-prestige tournaments - raises questions about the national team's physical management strategy. Perhaps we should ask: is forcing competition under injury pressure the best way to develop a young talent, or is adequate recovery time a better long-term investment? Nguyen Hai Dang also exited early. In the women's draw, Nguyen Thuy Linh remains in contention while facing young Taiwanese player Xu Wen Jing, only 19. The emergence of these young faces is a positive signal for regional badminton, but it simultaneously highlights the challenges of competing across generations. Regarding Minh personally, I hold a contrarian view to those who are quick to praise this victory as a sign of longevity in elite sports. The experience-based "opportunistic" style he displayed can be effective in Super 100 qualifiers, but stepping into the main draw against genuinely strong opponents - such as Zhe Ying Wu from Taiwan - the pressure will be far greater. The question is whether his tactical approach can remain effective throughout the tournament, where intensity increases round by round. I am not romanticizing this victory: defeating a player who is not strong in singles at the qualifying stage is necessary, and one win cannot confirm form. But one thing is certain: Minh's spirit remains intact. After the match, he told me he came to this tournament because he loves badminton, not for points or prestige. "As long as I can still play, I will play," - those simple words reflect the purest love for this sport. The atmosphere at this year's Vietnam Open is quite vibrant with the presence of many regional countries. However, I notice the absence of Asia's top-ranked players, such as those from China or Indonesia. This suggests the tournament holds a middle position in the ranking system: attractive enough to draw regional players, but not prestigious enough for the world's elite. This absence is both an opportunity for Vietnamese players to gain experience and a signal that the gap between Vietnamese badminton and world-class standards remains exceedingly wide. Looking at the bigger picture, I see one bright spot and one concerning point. The bright spot is Minh's experience and fighting spirit - at an age where most athletes have long retired, he can still compete and win. The concerning point is the injury status of young players like Le Duc Phat, who is considered the future of Vietnamese men's singles. It could be said that the golden generation of Vietnamese badminton, like Minh, cannot last forever, while the next generation is not yet mature enough to take over. In the short term, Minh advancing through the qualifiers is an inspiring story. But for me, the truly noteworthy story is the manpower puzzle and long-term development strategy of Vietnamese badminton. Fans are accustomed to seeing a steel-willed Minh in tense matches, but they may never have asked: what happens when he no longer competes? Will the experience and techniques he accumulated over a career spanning more than 20 years be passed on to the younger generation? I have stayed up all night to watch him compete at 25, 30, 35, and now 43. Each of Minh's matches is like a precious page in a book about perseverance and intelligent tactics, and I wish those pages could be fully transmitted to the Le Duc Phats of the future.