Coach Kim Sang Sik Busy Preparing for FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026: The Midfield Balance Puzzle

On a quiet late August afternoon, from the empty stands of Thong Nhat Stadium, I watched Coach Kim Sang Sik sit alone, meticulously noting every move in a closed-door friendly between two youth teams. He didn't know I was watching. But in that moment, I understood that the Korean tactician carried a burden far greater than what the media was exploiting. It wasn't about defending a title—it was a deep tactical puzzle: how to balance a midfield when your two brightest stars are both attack-minded.

The context of this season is truly special. The FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026, a newly branded tournament organized by FIFA, will take place in September and October. This means the V-League 2026/27, scheduled to start on September 4, will only manage two rounds before pausing for the FIFA Days window. As the reigning Southeast Asian champions, Vietnam enters the tournament under immense pressure. Group B places Vietnam with Pakistan, the Philippines, and Thailand—their eternal rivals. The format has also changed notably: the group winner advances directly to the final, while the runner-up only contests the bronze medal match. This means no margin for error in the group stage.

The crux of Kim Sang Sik's plan lies in midfield. In a recent press conference, he candidly admitted that both Quang Hai and Hoang Duc have attacking tendencies. This is an obvious truth to anyone following Vietnamese football, but a head coach publicly acknowledging it is a significant signal. It shows he sees a structural imbalance in the squad. Both players are conductors, creators of magic, but neither serves as a true "destroyer"—a defensive midfielder who can win the ball and break up opposition attacks.

The "double No. 10 problem" Kim Sang Sik faces is a classic issue in modern football. When your two best attacking players both prefer to receive the ball between the lines and drive forward, who stays back to protect the defense? In the 2026 ASEAN Cup campaign, Vietnam won based on defensive solidity and counter-attacking efficiency. But against technically superior opponents like Thailand, or physically imposing ones like the Philippines, a midfield without a ball-winner risks being overrun in transition.

Kim's plan is to add midfielders who can contest and recover balls. He announced he will watch the first two V-League rounds to identify suitable candidates. This is a pragmatic, data-driven approach based on direct observation rather than reputation. But it raises a big question: does Vietnamese football currently possess an international-class defensive midfielder? Over the years, this position has often been filled by players with more brawn than finesse, and none have truly established themselves at the regional level.

I recall the 3-5-2 revolution in Shanghai in 2026, when I was embedded with Shanghai SIPG under Coach Vitor Pereira. He faced a similar problem: too many talented attackers and not enough ball-winners behind them. Pereira's solution was to convert one of his attacking midfielders into a box-to-box player, someone who could shuttle up and down relentlessly. But that demands extraordinary fitness and immense tactical sacrifice. Are Quang Hai or Hoang Duc willing to sacrifice their attacking roles for the collective good? That's a question of character and maturity.

The 3-5-2 revolution doesn't start with the players, but with eyes that see far ahead. Kim Sang Sik is seeing beyond what the fans see. He's not just preparing for one tournament; he's building a new tactical identity for Vietnamese football. Adding a defensive midfielder doesn't just solve the immediate problem—it creates future tactical flexibility. It allows the team to switch between multiple formations—from a 4-3-3 with a dedicated No. 6, to a 4-2-3-1 with two holding midfielders—without losing the creativity of Quang Hai and Hoang Duc.

However, there's a counter-intuitive angle few mention. Adding a defensive midfielder might not be the optimal solution. In modern football, the concept of the "defensive midfielder" is evolving. Instead of a pure ball-winner, top teams are using midfielders who can control the tempo—players who read the game, regulate pace, and launch attacks from deep. If Kim only seeks a simple "destroyer," he might miss more complete players. The question isn't just who can win the ball, but who can keep it and transition intelligently.

On empty stadium days, I hear the team's breath—and it still beats. The pressure of being defending champions is something special. It's not like the pressure of a team hungry for a title. It's the pressure of protecting something already yours. Every opponent will treat their match against Vietnam as their biggest game. They'll pour all their energy, tactics, and emotion into it. And Vietnam, as champions, must be ready for that in every match.

The schedule also creates a unique challenge. The V-League will only play two rounds before pausing, meaning Kim has very little time to test and integrate new personnel. He must identify, select, and train a defensive midfielder within less than two weeks of domestic action. This favors players already familiar with the national team setup over untested newcomers. Familiarity with the system, with teammates, and with international pressure will be decisive.

I've witnessed many World Cups and ASEAN Cups in my career, and I can say this: the most successful teams aren't those with the most stars, but those with the best balance. Balance between attack and defense, between creativity and discipline, between individual and collective. Kim Sang Sik is searching for that balance. And the question is whether he can find it in the short window before the tournament.

A team isn't just about victories; it has its own heartbeat, and I'm the one recording it. In Southeast Asian football, the rivalry between Vietnam and Thailand always carries special meaning. Their group-stage match won't just be a football game; it's a battle of national pride, history, and regional standing. With the new format where the group winner goes straight to the final, this match could directly decide the ticket to the final. This elevates the stakes even further.

FIFA's involvement in this tournament is also a notable signal. FIFA lending its name to a regional tournament like the ASEAN Cup indicates a formal, deeper partnership between FIFA and the ASEAN Football Federation. This could bring stricter governance standards—from anti-doping to anti-match-fixing—and could also enhance the tournament's commercial value. FPT Play securing broadcast rights for the entire tournament, along with Hyundai as title sponsor, shows significant commercial appeal.

But back to the main issue: Vietnam's midfield. I believe Kim Sang Sik is on the right track. Identifying the problem is the first and most important step. Many other coaches might try to force Quang Hai or Hoang Duc to drop deeper, but that could diminish their creativity. Instead, adding a dedicated defensive midfielder will liberate both players, allowing them to express their attacking abilities freely without worrying about leaving space behind.

However, I also want to offer a caution. In modern football, having a defensive midfielder is no longer sufficient for success. What matters is how the team presses, how they move off the ball, and how they transition from defense to attack. A good defensive midfielder can be the foundation, but the entire system must operate in sync. Kim doesn't just need to find the right person; he needs to build the right system around them.

Before the goal, after the goal, and between those two moments—a whole life flows through. For Vietnamese football fans, the FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026 isn't just a tournament. It's a chance to affirm Vietnam's number-one status in the region. It's a chance to prove that the 2026 ASEAN Cup triumph wasn't luck. And it's a chance for the golden generation—the Quang Hais, the Hoang Ducs, and others—to write the final chapter of a beautiful story.

But pressure is also very real. I've seen strong teams collapse under the weight of expectation. I've seen talented coaches sacked over one bad result. And I've seen squads torn apart by internal conflicts. Kim Sang Sik faces all these challenges. But I've also seen miracles happen when a team unites, when everyone moves toward a common goal.

In the coming days, I'll continue to closely follow the team's training sessions, V-League matches, and Kim Sang Sik's statements. I want to see who he chooses for the defensive midfield role, and how he builds the tactical system. I want to see if Quang Hai and Hoang Duc can find balance in their play. And I want to see if Vietnamese football can overcome the pressure of being champions to continue dominating the region.

There are trophies that can't be lifted, but they still weigh heavy in the heart—those are the titles of those who stay. For me, someone who has spent an entire career following and recording football's heartbeats, Vietnam's story in the FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026 isn't just about winning or losing. It's about perseverance, adaptation, and overcoming challenges. It's about a coach trying to build a team that's not only strong technically but also resilient mentally. And it's about a nation eager to assert its place on the Asian football map.

Will Kim Sang Sik solve the midfield puzzle? Can Vietnam defend their title? The answers will come in September and October. But whatever the outcome, I believe what the team is experiencing during this preparation phase will be a crucial foundation for Vietnamese football's long-term development. And I'll be there, recording every heartbeat, every moment, every tear and smile, as I have for 28 years.