Vietnam 1-3 South Korea at ASIAD: Vietnam's Women's Volleyball Hits Its Own Weak Point at the Doorstep of a Quarterfinal Against China
**Câu trả lời cốt lõi**: Tuyển bóng chuyền nữ Việt Nam thua Hàn Quốc 1-3 (21-25, 21-25, 28-26, 18-25) tại ASIAD ngày 18/9, xếp nhì bảng D và gặp đương kim vô địch Trung Quốc ở tứ kết ngày 20/9. Điểm yếu lớn nhất là bước một và tâm lý ở cuối set. **Dữ kiện chính**: - Phạm Quỳnh Hương và Trần Thị Bích Thúy cùng ghi 17 điểm; đội trưởng Trần Thị Thanh Thúy ghi 12 điểm. - Trà My vào sân từ ghế dự bị ghi 10 điểm, nâng tổng nhóm ghi điểm lên 56 điểm. - Hàn Quốc ghi chuỗi 5-6 điểm liên tiếp ở đoạn cuối set một và set hai, quyết định cục diện. - Việt Nam thắng set ba 28-26 sau khi thử thách video ở tỉ số 24-23 bị từ chối (không có chạm lưới). - Set bốn kết thúc 18-25, phản ánh sự sụt giảm thể lực rõ rệt sau ba set căng thẳng. **Nguồn và độ tin cậy**: Bài phân tích dựa trên bản tổng hợp Stage-1 do nguồn không nêu tên cung cấp, ngày 18/9. Các thông số như số điểm cá nhân và ace được ghi nhận từ thống kê trận đấu chưa đối chiếu được với nhà cung cấp dữ liệu chính thức (AVC/FIVB/Volleyball World). Toàn bộ số liệu được đánh dấu là cần xác minh độc lập trước khi trích dẫn lại. **Hỏi đáp liên quan**: - Hỏi: Vì sao Việt Nam thua dù các tay đập ghi điểm tốt? Đáp: Vì bước một vỡ ra dưới áp lực phát bóng của Hàn Quốc, khiến các pha tấn công rơi vào tình trạng ngoài hệ thống và tỉ lệ lỗi tăng ở đoạn cuối set. - Hỏi: Việt Nam còn cơ hội nào trước Trung Quốc ở tứ kết? Đáp: Cơ hội thực tế là giành được những set đấu ngang ngửa và giữ vững sự tập trung sau phút thứ hai mươi, thay vì mơ về việc đi tiếp. - Hỏi: Yếu tố nào dễ bị bỏ qua nhất khi đánh giá trận này? Đáp: Nền tảng thể lực và chiều sâu đội hình, khi lịch thi đấu chỉ cho Việt Nam hai ngày nghỉ trước đối thủ mạnh nhất bảng đấu.
There was a moment in the third set that made me sit still in my small apartment in Osaka, my hand still holding a coffee that had gone cold long before. The scoreboard read 24-23, Vietnam had a set point against South Korea. The referee stopped play to consult the video system. The whole arena held its breath. When the screen confirmed that the Korean players had not touched the net, the score returned to 24-24, and I immediately thought of every time this team had collapsed at exactly such a moment.
But this time they did not collapse.

The third set ended at 28-26, one of the longest and most suffocating sets I have ever followed at a continental arena. That is why, sitting down to write about the 1-3 loss to South Korea on the afternoon of 18 September, I cannot only tell the story of a defeat. I have to tell the story of a team that just proved they could, and then immediately proved they could not yet.
The four sets read 21-25, 21-25, 28-26 and 18-25. Vietnam lost three of four sets, but how they lost is the real story. In both the first and second sets, the team in red chased closely, even led at times, and then allowed South Korea to break away late through runs of five to six consecutive points. That is the familiar fingerprint of a team that plays well until the twentieth point and then drops everything at the decisive points.
With this result, Vietnam finished the group stage second in Group D. The reward is a quarterfinal slot against defending champion China on 20 September, only two days after facing South Korea. A brutal schedule paired with the hardest possible opponent in this competition.
I have spent many years following women's tournaments in Asia, and I have noticed one thing: people tend to judge women's teams through emotion more than through numbers. A hard-fought set win is celebrated as a feat, while three lost sets are quietly folded into a line about doing their best. I want to go against that habit, because that very habit is what keeps these women behind.
The biggest bright spot of the match was the point distribution. Two wing hitters, Pham Quynh Huong and Tran Thi Bich Thuy, each scored 17 points. Captain Tran Thi Thanh Thuy contributed 12, mostly from powerful spikes behind the three-metre line. And Tra My, coming off the bench, added 10 points. Four players combined for 56 points.
What stands out is that Thanh Thuy was not the top scorer. For years, she has been the number-one attacking option, the player every opposing block has to load up on. Quynh Huong and Bich Thuy moving ahead of her is a sign the team is becoming less dependent on a single individual. Quynh Huong also recorded 2 aces directly from serve, a modest number that nonetheless shows she can apply pressure right from the service line.
But here is the point I want to stress: that beautiful point distribution did not save the team at the decisive moments. Vietnam's problem is not scoring points; it is protecting control when the match reaches its climax. Volleyball is a sport where one bad pass can destroy an entire rally, and the term for it is an out-of-system attack.
Watching the replays of the first and second sets, what caught my attention was how South Korea exploited Vietnam's weakness. They served into exactly the positions that shattered Vietnam's first-step reception. Kim Da In led that serving run. When first-step reception breaks, setter Kim Thoa is forced to handle the ball in a bad situation, the set comes out off-target, and the hitters have to launch into out-of-system swings. The success rate in such situations is always lower, and the error rate climbs.
This is the mechanism I want to call by its name: dependence on first-step reception. An Asian team like Vietnam builds its game on speed and variation, and all of that originates from the first pass. When that foundation shakes, the entire tactical building collapses. The strong teams in Asia understand this, and they design their serving strategies to strike directly at that foundation.
What is fascinating is that the third set showed a completely different picture. In that set, Vietnam blocked the dangerous serving runs, organised quick attacks from the middle of the net, and most importantly played well at the closing points. Bich Thuy, at the middle blocker position, attacked efficiently at the middle of the net, opening gaps that South Korea could not fill in time. Why could they do that in the third set but not in the first and second?
I believe the answer lies in the connection between technique and mentality. When first-step reception is stable, the team can deploy its plays, the setter has space to organise, and the hitters have time to run their approach. All of that creates a positive spiral: attack well, feel confident; feel confident, attack well. Conversely, a few bad passes early in a set can set off a negative spiral that is not easily broken.
The fourth set is painful proof. The 18-25 score reflects a clear decline, and from what I observed, it was a physical decline. After three tense sets, the legs no longer spring as quickly, the blocking footwork grows slower, and errors begin to appear more often. Physical endurance is a problem Vietnamese women's volleyball has faced for years, and this match once again reminds us of it.
Those phone calls during the pandemic taught me one thing: sport, first of all, is human lives. When I watch these women walk off the court with tired faces that have not surrendered, I remember countless evenings watching them on a screen, from domestic tournaments to international friendlies, and I understand that behind every scoreline is a story outsiders cannot see.
This is where I want to say plainly what many may not want to hear. The common media framing after this match is that Vietnam lost but played South Korea evenly. I believe that framing, however well-intentioned, paints a false picture.
Look at the sets. Two losses at 21-25, one loss at 18-25. South Korea controlled three of four sets. Vietnam was only truly even in the third set, and even there they had to grind through 28-26 to win it. A team truly on par would not allow an opponent a run of five to six points at the end of two consecutive sets.
I am not writing this to discourage anyone. I am writing because I believe progress requires a team to look straight at the truth. Telling these women that they played South Korea evenly is an expensive kindness, because it keeps the weakness hidden in the dark. Telling them to ask why we dropped points 20, 21 and 22 is a more honest kindness.
I have seen this many times. After the Russia World Cup in 2026, I left the tournament with a grievance. It never faded; it merely turned into stored heat, and that heat forced me to write about the issues people usually avoid. The way the media treats women's sport always swings between two extremes: over-praising or ignoring entirely. Neither helps these women.
There is another detail that belongs in the picture: physical endurance. Two days of rest between the South Korea match and the China match is far too short, especially after a four-set match full of tense rallies. If Vietnam again declines in the fourth set against China, we will know the problem is not mentality but physical foundation and squad depth. In other words, it is a problem fixable through training plans, not through encouragement.
What I value most in women's volleyball is not victory, but the way these women rise after every time prejudice knocks them down. Vietnam will enter the quarterfinal against China as the underdog, and there is nothing wrong with that. The realistic goal is not advancement, but proving that the even sets against South Korea can be repeated, and that points at the twentieth minute are no longer dropped.
If our team can hold focus at the end of sets, reduce its dependence on first-step reception, and distribute points as evenly as it did against South Korea, then even a loss to China can be a genuine step forward. Vietnam's women's volleyball does not need a miracle win. They need lessons told correctly, and remembered long enough to become skill.
