A Kazan Night of Their Own: U20 Vietnam, Ikeuchi Yutaka, and the Lesson of Empty Spaces

On a training ground in Shanghai, where I have stood for fourteen years observing Asian football, I saw a moment repeating itself. Not on Chinese soil, but in the memory of a match none of us want to recall. U20 Vietnam just lost 0-3 to U20 North Korea. Not because the opponent was too strong. But because we placed ourselves in a position with no way out. Vietnamese youth football has had its own Kazan nights. In 2026, I wrote about the German national team at the Russia World Cup, about the machine without a heart, about how the highest peak is merely a fulcrum for the fall. Now, U20 Vietnam stands before a similar abyss. Not because of a lack of talent – Đinh Quang Kiệt, the 1m95 center-back, can mark any striker in the U20 Asian qualifiers. The problem is this: that key is not being inserted into the lock. Former VFF official Dương Vũ Lâm has pointed out what many are afraid to say: coach Ikeuchi Yutaka lacks practical experience in the U20 Vietnam environment. He seems not to fully understand his players. In the last three matches, U20 Vietnam's coordination has not been smooth; the team has not played in accordance with the inherent identity of Vietnamese football. This contrasts completely with Kim Sang Sik's U23 Vietnam or Cristiano Roland's U17 Vietnam – teams that succeeded in major tournaments without naturalized players. The trajectory of the heart is never a straight line. It consists of long-range shots. But when a coach does not understand the trajectory of his own players, every pass becomes meaningless. The 1-2 loss to Palestine is even more concerning than the defeat to North Korea. North Korea is a strong Northeast Asian side; losing to them can be accepted. But Palestine – a weaker opponent – is a mirror reflecting errors in opponent assessment and squad utilization. Veteran V-League players like Đinh Quang Kiệt, Trần Gia Bảo, and Nguyễn Lê Phát are being wasted. They are the empty spaces on the pitch – promises yet unspoken. In an anonymous passage of play, I find the entire meaning of the game. But when a coach fails to see the value of the people standing before him, the game becomes a dull monologue. The Kazan night taught me that the highest peak is merely a fulcrum for the fall. U20 Vietnam has never been at the peak in this tournament, but they are facing a systemic fall. If they lose to U20 Iran on September 6, the team will be relegated in the continental qualifiers. The consequence does not stop at one match – it will trigger a collapse across the entire youth football development chain, from academies to the national team. In the summer without spectators, I learned to hear the stadium breathe. Now that the stadiums have spectators again, I hear the sigh of an entire football nation. Is it too late to change? Dương Vũ Lâm says it is too early to conclude that Japanese coaches are unsuitable. But time is the most luxurious commodity in elite football. At the peak, one sees nothing but one's own fragility. U20 Vietnam is at the bottom, but from the bottom, one can see the entire sky. The only question is: does coach Ikeuchi Yutaka have the courage to look at himself before it is too late?