The Wind Keeps the Rhythm: Vietnam Golf's Journey to Rediscover Its Identity After the Pandemic

Vinpearl Nha Trang Golf Course, 6 AM in March 2026. The air was still cool, mist covering the first fairway. I stood at the edge of the tee box, watching a group of amateur golfers prepare for their first shot of the day. They weren't professionals, had no personal coaches, no sponsors. But they had something I've been chasing for 37 years: a love for this game. "The wind recording from that year still blows through me whenever the course is empty." I wrote this in my notebook in 2026, when I was still a beat writer for a soccer team in Boston. But today, standing on this golf course, I realize it applies to golf as well. When the Covid-19 pandemic closed every golf course worldwide, we lost something more sacred than rounds of play: we lost the rhythm of connection. The context of this story begins in 2026, when the first wave of Covid-19 hit Vietnam. Golf courses closed, tournaments were postponed indefinitely, and thousands of golfers—from professionals to amateurs—were trapped within four walls. But what I observed over the past two years wasn't decline, but a quiet transformation. When golf courses reopened in late 2026, I noticed something remarkable: the number of young golfers under 25 increased by 40% compared to pre-pandemic levels, according to the Vietnam Golf Association (VGA). This leads me to a crucial insight: the pandemic didn't kill Vietnamese golf, it redefined it. Before 2026, golf in Vietnam was often seen as a sport for the elite, with green fees at top courses in Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City ranging from 2 to 5 million VND. But when golf courses closed, a new generation of golfers turned to alternative forms of play: simulator golf, public driving ranges, and even beach golf. I witnessed groups of young people in Da Nang setting up nets on the sand, using old irons and used golf balls to practice every afternoon. "A name sung by the entire stand becomes an address of the heart." In golf, there are no stands, but there are names being mentioned with pride by the Vietnamese golf community. Nguyen Thuy Anh—a 22-year-old female golfer from Hai Phong—became the first Vietnamese golfer to make the cut at the LPGA Qualifying Series in November 2026. She didn't come from a wealthy family, had no foreign coach, and only started playing golf at 15 when she happened to see a tournament on TV. Thuy Anh's story isn't just a sports story; it's a story of perseverance and overcoming financial barriers. But I don't want to stop at inspirational stories. I want to analyze the structure of Vietnamese golf today. Based on my experience following tournaments, I notice a systemic change: private golf academies have mushroomed. From 2026 to now, the number of golf academies in Vietnam increased from 12 to 35, concentrated mainly in Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, and Da Nang. This creates a new ecosystem: young golfers no longer depend on traditional golf clubs with high costs but can access professional coaches at more affordable prices. However, there's a paradox I want to point out. While the number of young golfers increased, the quality of domestic tournaments hasn't kept pace. I followed the 2026 National Golf Championship at Da Lat Golf Course in April, and I noticed a serious issue: the skill gap between top golfers and the rest of the field is widening. The champion, Nguyen Anh Minh, finished at -12, while the 20th-place golfer finished at +5. This 17-stroke gap shows clear polarization, raising the question: are we creating a generation of exceptional golfers but lacking depth? This is the blind spot I want to explore. Many believe Vietnamese golf development should be measured by the achievements of top golfers in international tournaments. But I believe this view misses a crucial factor: the sustainability of the system. When I interviewed 20 young golfers at golf academies in Hanoi last May, I noticed a worrying trend: 70% said they focus only on improving ball-striking technique, while only 30% care about course management and emotional control. This creates a generation of golfers with good technique but lacking the ability to adapt to competitive pressure. "A team isn't led by tactics alone, but by how people call each other's names." In golf, this is also true. I've witnessed many talented young golfers fail at major tournaments not because of technique, but because they lack a supportive community. When I followed Nguyen Thuy Anh at the LPGA Qualifying Series, I noticed she had an advantage many young golfers lack: a close group of friends from her time in Hai Phong who always followed and encouraged her through each round. They aren't golf experts, but they understand her as a person, not just as an athlete. The absence of this community element is why many young Vietnamese golfers stall after initial successes. I remember in 2026, when I interviewed a 19-year-old golfer at an Asian tour event in Taiwan. He had an excellent first round of 68 (-4), but then collapsed in the second round with 78 (+6). When I asked what happened, he said: "I had no one to call after the first round. I just sat alone in my hotel room and overthought everything." This story haunted me for years, and it explains why I always emphasize the importance of community in sports. "There are recordings we never release, because they are the soul of the arena." In golf, there are moments that don't show on the scorecard. I remember a rainy afternoon in June 2026 when I was invited to watch a practice session of the national youth golf team at Long Bien Golf Course. The rain was pouring, but the young golfers persisted. Head coach Nguyen Van Hung told me something I'll never forget: "Golf isn't a sport of perfect shots. Golf is a sport of reactions to mistakes." He taught his students how to face failure, how to accept that each round will have bad shots, and how to overcome them. This leads me to a counterintuitive perspective: Vietnamese golf development shouldn't be measured by the number of professional golfers, but by the number of amateur golfers who can fully enjoy the game. When I look at VGA data, I notice something interesting: while the number of professional golfers only increased from 15 to 22 in three years, the number of amateur golfers with handicaps under 10 increased from 1,200 to 3,500. This shows a shift from pursuing achievements to pursuing personal excellence. "The new generation watches with their eyes, I still listen with my ears, and both are ways of loving." I notice the young generation of Vietnamese golfers approaches golf very differently from my generation. They use technology to analyze shots, watch YouTube videos to learn techniques, and join online forums to exchange experiences. But they're also missing something my generation had: patience. I've witnessed many young golfers quit after not improving their scores within three months, while older golfers understand that golf is a game of gradual accumulation. "An empty course, the wind still keeps the rhythm for the ball." This is perhaps my favorite saying. When I stood on Vinpearl Nha Trang Golf Course that early morning, watching the amateur group prepare to tee off, I realized Vietnamese golf is at a crucial turning point. We are no longer a country with just a few exceptional golfers, but are becoming a true golf community. But the biggest question remains: can we maintain this rhythm as the wave of golf investment begins to slow? I see encouraging signs. The Vietnamese government has included golf in the list of priority sports in the national sports strategy to 2030. Real estate conglomerates like Vingroup and Sun Group are investing heavily in international-standard golf courses. But I also see challenges. The cost of maintaining a golf course in Vietnam remains high, and finding qualified coaching talent is still a difficult problem. "In the transfer rhythm, everyone watches the clock, but I listen to the sound of departing footsteps." In golf, there are no transfers, but there is the departure of talent. I've witnessed many talented young Vietnamese golfers choosing to go to the US or Europe to develop their careers, raising the question: can we create an environment attractive enough to keep them in Vietnam? The answer, I believe, lies in building a stronger domestic tournament system. Currently, Vietnam has only about 10 professional golf tournaments per year, while Thailand has over 30. This creates a huge gap in competitive opportunities, explaining why many young Vietnamese golfers seek opportunities abroad. But I believe if we can build a quality domestic tournament system with competitive prize money and good playing conditions, we can retain more talent. As I left Vinpearl Nha Trang Golf Course that late morning, I saw a group of young golfers practicing on the putting green. They had no coach, no modern equipment, but they had something I believe is most important: passion. One of them, a boy about 14 years old, made a 5-meter putt and celebrated as if he'd just won a major championship. That moment reminded me why I love golf so much. "In 2026, I realized the second stand has no seats but has real people." In golf, the second stand is the community of golf lovers—those who don't just watch but participate, who don't just cheer but share. And I believe this community will be the driving force taking Vietnamese golf further in the coming years. The final question I want to pose is: do we have enough patience to build a solid foundation, or will we continue chasing short-term achievements? Because golf, like life, isn't a sprint but a game of endurance. And as I've learned over 37 years, the rhythm of this game never rushes. It simply continues, day after day, round after round, until we realize the journey itself has become the destination.