Vietnam Women's Football World Cup Milestone and the Silence After the Spotlight

When the final whistle sounded at Eden Park, New Zealand, on July 22, 2026, Vietnam's women's footballers left the pitch in silence. The 0-3 loss to defending champions the United States was no surprise to those who follow Southeast Asian women's football closely. But the moment they walked down the tunnel, with the World Cup floodlights still blazing, I suddenly realized: millions of Vietnamese fans had joyfully welcomed the team home, yet within weeks, everyone returned to the familiar world of men's football. 'On men's football festival days, I quietly inserted women's records into every bulletin,' I used to think. But in reality, the record of those girls remained a small footnote in a sea of V.League news. To understand why that World Cup ticket mattered so much, one must look at the road they traveled. Vietnamese women's football had no professional foundation. Local clubs operated on meager budgets. Most players had to take side jobs to survive. Nguyễn Thị Thanh Nhã once shared that she earned less than 10 million VND per month in her early career and had to ask her family for permission to keep playing. The national team had no dedicated training center; they practiced on amateur pitches, often yielding to men's teams. Yet at the 2026 Women's Asian Cup in India, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, they beat Thailand 2-0 in the playoff to secure their first World Cup berth after more than two decades of waiting. At the 2026 World Cup, coach Mai Đức Chung built the team around a 4-3-3 formation. In three Group E matches, Vietnam lost all three, scored no goals, and conceded 12. Those numbers easily invite talk of a class gap. But a closer look reveals more than the scoreline. Against the United States, his players held only 24% possession, yet their disciplined defensive block limited the world champions to three goals, mostly from set pieces. Against Portugal, they registered two shots on target – one nearly crossing the line but for a brilliant save by goalkeeper Inês Pereira. My 'Dressing-Room Voices' project resonated after the tournament when goalkeeper Trần Thị Kim Thanh said the team was never afraid, only regretful that they had not scored a historic goal. After more than thirty years holding a microphone, I have learned this: sport is never just about the score. For Vietnamese women's football, the mere presence at the World Cup was already a victory of spirit. Yet that historic achievement exposed a paradox. After the World Cup, Vietnam entered the qualifying rounds for the Paris 2026 Olympics. They had a huge opportunity playing at home, but lost to Uzbekistan in the final group match and missed out. Many blamed tactics, but I see systemic fatigue: core players like Huỳnh Như were over 30, while the next generation lacked regular international exposure. Vietnam's U20 women's team, after many years, still struggles in Asian qualifiers. Youth tournaments lack consistent sponsorship. The domestic women's league lasts only a few months a year, leaving young players with too little competitive sharpening. The biggest paradox: the more famous Vietnamese women's football becomes, the more it is expected to deliver, yet the resources allocated to it do not rise accordingly. Sponsors still look at television audiences and advertising revenue – where men's football dominates. Even after the World Cup feat, no major Vietnamese conglomerate signed a dedicated sponsorship deal with the women's national team, while V.League men's clubs constantly attract brands. A female player at TP.HCM Women's Club still earns less than one-third of her male counterpart in the First Division. People call it 'passion,' but passion cannot pay for an elderly mother's hospital bills, as many female players have tearfully shared in livestreams I conducted after the World Cup. Looking at neighboring countries, Thailand, though overtaken by Vietnam at the SEA Games, still maintains a professional women's league with a continuous calendar. The Philippines, through its diaspora community, has upgraded its women's team into a genuine competitor. Vietnam stands at a crossroads. The revival of community tournaments and women's football academies founded by former national team players is a positive signal. But turning those signals into a true next generation requires policy and patience. When I was a young reporter, I thought state investment alone would change everything. Thirty years later, I understand that change comes not from large sums of money, but from small acts of listening. The voices of Vietnamese women footballers are no longer left behind in the dressing room as before. They can now tell their own stories, even if not many listen. And the open question remains: will a record set by Vietnamese women's football ever be valued as highly as those of their male counterparts, so that the barefoot girls can stand firmly on their own two feet?