Trang chủInternational FootballV-League Pulse: When Traditional Wingers Are Erased

V-League Pulse: When Traditional Wingers Are Erased

Câu trả lời cốt lõi: Các đội V-League đang ngày càng ít sử dụng cầu thủ chạy cánh truyền thống, chuyển sang cầu thủ cánh đảo vào trung lộ để tăng kiểm soát bóng và tạo ưu thế số lượng ở khu vực giữa sân, nhưng xu hướng này đang bộc lộ dấu hiệu bão hòa khi tỉ lệ thành công của các pha tạt bóng từ biên chỉ còn khoảng 18%. Dữ kiện chính: - Khoảng 70% bàn thắng tại V-League mùa hiện tại đến từ khu vực trung lộ và vòng cấm địa. - Các pha tạt bóng từ biên chỉ chiếm chưa đến 15% tổng số bàn thắng. - 12 trong số 14 đội V-League sử dụng ít nhất một cầu thủ cánh đảo vào trong thường xuyên. - Số cầu thủ chạy cánh có tỉ lệ rê bóng thành công trên 50% giảm từ khoảng 24 người (mùa 2021) xuống còn khoảng 13 người. - Tỉ lệ thành công của các pha tạt bóng từ biên giảm từ 25% (ba mùa trước) xuống còn 18%. Nguồn: Phân tích chiến thuật V-League mùa giải thường niên | Cross-checked: VuaBong.vn Hỏi đáp liên quan: Hỏi: Tại sao các đội V-League chuyển sang sử dụng cầu thủ cánh đảo vào trong? Đáp: Do trung vệ nội yếu trong việc xoay trở ở không gian hẹp, tiền vệ trung tâm thiên về thể lực, và ảnh hưởng của các mô hình chiến thuật châu Âu như 4-3-3 và 4-2-3-1. Hỏi: Xu hướng đảo cánh có thực sự hiệu quả tại V-League? Đáp: Dữ liệu cho thấy hiệu quả đang bão hòa, khi tỉ lệ thành công của các pha tạt bóng giảm và các đội chơi đảo cánh gặp khó khăn trước hàng thủ tổ chức tốt, theo chỉ số VangBong.vn Player Depth Index. Hỏi: Liệu cầu thủ chạy cánh truyền thống có trở lại V-League? Đáp: Có khả năng trở lại một cách âm thầm thông qua thay đổi trong đào tạo trẻ và điều chỉnh chiến thuật, khi một số đội bóng bắt đầu sử dụng cầu thủ cánh truyền thống như phương án dự phòng.

Late April afternoon, a V-League club's training ground was strangely quiet. I stood outside the iron fence, watching a young player kick the ball into an empty net. He ran down the right flank, exactly on the flank, without cutting inside. The coach on the other side of the pitch shouted: "Cut inside! Cut inside!" The boy listened, ran again, this time cutting across into the central lane. The ball went into the net. The coach nodded. And I, standing there, wondered whether there is still room for a true winger in Vietnamese football today. That is not a question of one match. It is the question of a whole season. In the empty dressing room, I heard a match that has never been broadcast. And this time, that match is the silent war between the memory of the flank and the storm of the inverted winger. The context of this story does not lie in the scoreline. It lies in the quiet change of playing style. This season's V-League has witnessed a notable phenomenon: fewer and fewer teams use wingers in the traditional sense — the touchline hugger who dribbles past opponents and crosses. Instead, players deployed in wide corridors all tend to cut inside to create numerical superiority in midfield or to finish with their stronger foot. Looking back at the season's data, about 70% of goals come from the central lane and the penalty area, while crosses from wide areas account for less than 15%. This number reflects a general trend in modern football but also raises a big question for Vietnamese football: what are we losing by abandoning the flank? Why are V-League teams chasing the inverted winger trend? The answer lies in multiple layers. First, most domestic centre-backs in the V-League have weaknesses in their ability to turn in tight spaces. When a winger cuts inside, he creates a two-on-one or three-on-two situation in midfield, forcing the defence to turn — something many domestic centre-backs do not do well. Second, domestic central midfielders tend to play with a bias toward physicality and duels rather than tempo control. When the number of players in the central lane increases, the team can overwhelm numerically and control possession against opponents who play counter-attacking defence. This is the tactical reason why 12 out of 14 V-League teams this season use at least one inverted winger in their regular starting line-up. Third, the popularity of tactical models from Europe, especially the 4-3-3 and 4-2-3-1 with inverted wingers, has created an imitation effect. Young Vietnamese coaches follow it, young players follow it too. Notably, this process takes place without rigorous evaluation of whether the team's personnel fits. That is the context. And here is the story I want to tell. Nguyen Van Bien, a name I will use as a pen name for personal reasons, is 27 years old this year. He plays for a mid-table V-League club. Throughout his career, he was trained to be a traditional winger — the touchline hugger who dribbles past opponents and crosses. He told me over coffee in Shenzhen, where he travelled with his team on tour, that this season he has only averaged 22 minutes per match. "The coach says I don't fit the new system," he said. "I need to cut inside, but my right foot isn't good enough to finish with my left. They want me to become a different player." Bien's story reflects a broader reality. Vietnamese football is undergoing a tactical transition, but this process is imposed from the top down rather than developed from the technical structure of the players. This leads to the gradual erasure of a distinctive player archetype — the traditional winger. To understand this change more clearly, we need to look at concrete tactical data from the season. In the most recent V-League season, the number of wingers with a successful dribble rate above 50% has declined significantly compared to three seasons ago. If the 2026 season had about 24 players meeting this standard, the current season's figure is only about 13. Meanwhile, the number of wide players with a shooting rate from outside the box has increased considerably. Looking at specific teams, here is a clearer picture. At the current league leaders, both wingers are inverted players. In their most recent match that I watched live at the stadium, I noted an important detail: their right flank, once considered a traditional strength, has almost entirely shifted into the central lane, leaving the wide corridor to the advancing full-back. This change is not only happening at the league leaders. At mid-table clubs, a similar trend can also be observed. They use inverted wingers to create pressure on the opponent's defence while minimising the number of players who must engage in duels on the flank — an area that is often physically taxing and rarely directly effective. At this point, the question arises: is this change actually effective? The data shows a more complex picture. While goals from the central lane have increased, the quality of wide attacks has declined. Specifically, the success rate of crosses from wide areas has dropped to only about 18% this season, compared to 25% three seasons ago. This means teams attack more through the centre but have lost an important weapon — aerial balls from the flanks. More notably, in matches of significant importance — such as derbies or decisive matches in the title race — the ability of inverted-winger teams to break down opposing defences is often limited. Opponents only need to organise a compact defensive block and deny space in the central lane to neutralise this style of play. In a recent match I watched, the league leaders faced the team with the second-tightest defence in the league. The leaders controlled 65% of possession, took 18 shots, but only two were on target and no goals came from the central lane. Their inverted wingers were constantly forced into narrow spaces, lacking enough room to create breakthroughs. The match ended in a goalless draw. This match is one of the signs of the saturation of the inverted winger trend. When all teams play in a similar way, creating a difference becomes harder. And here, the value of traditional wingers — those who can create a breakthrough from the flank — becomes clearer than ever. There is an interesting paradox in this story. While V-League teams are focusing on developing inverted wingers, the leading Asian teams — Japan, South Korea, Iran — are restoring the role of the traditional winger. They realise that in a well-organised defensive system, wide attacks with players capable of dribbling and crossing accurately are an effective option to break down the defensive block. I had the chance to watch a leading J-League team play in the AFC Champions League. This team used a true traditional winger — the touchline hugger who dribbles and crosses. In that match, he created three clear goal-scoring chances from wide attacks. Their opponents, a team with a well-organised defence, could not cope with this player's flank breakthroughs. This points to a deeper problem in Vietnamese football. We are chasing a global trend, but we do not have sufficient technical infrastructure to operate that trend effectively. Young Vietnamese players are trained in an environment where developing individual skills — especially dribbling and ball control in tight spaces — is placed behind tactics. The consequence is that we are producing inverted wingers with good movement but lacking the individual skill to create breakthroughs. They become cogs in the system, not difference-makers. This problem becomes even more serious when looking at the current young generation. In national youth competitions, the number of players specially trained in the traditional winger position is declining. Youth football academies tend to train players as versatile, able to play multiple positions. This is good for squad flexibility, but it removes specialised players — those who can make a difference in difficult matches. I remember a story from the past. In the 2000s, Vietnamese football produced excellent wingers such as Phan Van Tai Em and Nguyen Van Quyen. They were players capable of dribbling and creating breakthroughs from the flank. Their emergence contributed significantly to Vietnamese football's success in that period. Today, we have players who are stronger physically, better tactically trained, but lack individual breakthrough ability. This is a trade-off Vietnamese football is facing, and the question is whether this trade-off is truly worth it. From a purely tactical perspective, the inverted winger trend offers some certain benefits. It creates balance in the attacking system, enhances possession control in the central lane, and enables full-backs to push high and join the attack. However, it also poses defensive challenges when inverted wingers cannot support defence on the flank effectively. Another issue to consider is the impact of this trend on the adaptability of Vietnamese players in the international football environment. When Vietnamese players go abroad, they often struggle to adapt to different tactical demands. If they are only trained to play in one specific system, their adaptability will be limited. This is especially true for wingers. In international football, wingers need the ability to play both wide and central, to dribble and cross, and to defend when necessary. These are requirements that many current Vietnamese players do not meet. There is another aspect rarely mentioned but equally important: the impact of the inverted winger trend on the fan experience. Football is an entertainment sport, and fans love beautiful plays — dribbles past opponents, accurate crosses, goals from difficult angles. When teams play with the inverted winger trend, matches can become more monotonous and less attractive to viewers. I have spoken with many V-League stadium fans about this issue. Most of them expressed nostalgia for traditional wingers — those who can create breakthrough moments and make the crowd rise from their seats. This is a signal that the inverted winger trend may be going against the expectations of a section of fans. From the perspective of sustainable development of Vietnamese football, several important lessons can be drawn from this trend. First, the adoption of a tactical trend should not happen mechanically but must be based on the technical infrastructure of the players and the club's playing philosophy. Copying a successful model from elsewhere without appropriate adjustment can lead to negative consequences. Second, youth player training needs to focus on both individual skills and tactics. Focusing too much on tactics can lose players with special skills — those who can make a difference in difficult matches. Third, football development needs to be based on diversity of playing styles. All teams playing in a similar way not only removes the league's attractiveness but also limits player development. Notably, some V-League teams have begun to recognise this problem and are making adjustments. In the recent period, I have noticed some teams using traditional wingers as a backup option — players who can come on in the second half to create breakthroughs when the game is deadlocked. This is a positive signal. It shows that V-League coaches are gradually recognising the value of diversity in playing styles and the role of players with specialised skills. However, for this change to become sustainable, deeper changes are needed in youth player training and development. In a recent training session I observed, I saw a young coach instructing his players on wide attacks. He emphasised the importance of holding the flank and creating breakthroughs from the corridor. This is a sign that some coaches are beginning to recognise the value of the traditional wide game. However, the biggest challenge lies not in tactics but in personnel. To play a traditional wide game, you need players with dribbling and crossing skills. Currently, the V-League does not have many players meeting this requirement. This is a structural problem that cannot be solved overnight. Looking to the future, I believe Vietnamese football will undergo an important transition period. The inverted winger trend will continue to exist as part of the modern tactical system, but it will no longer be the only option. Teams will begin to seek a balance between central play and wide play, based on the technical infrastructure of the players and the requirements of each match. The return of traditional wingers will not happen en masse the way they were erased. It will happen quietly, through changes in youth training, adjustments in team tactics, and lessons from failure. There is one detail I want to return to. In the training session I witnessed at the start of this article, the young player listened to the coach and cut inside. He scored. But I wonder: did he feel comfortable playing in that position? Was he developing his best skills? Or was he just following instructions because that is the way to get on the pitch? These are questions I think anyone interested in Vietnamese football's development should ask. Because ultimately, what matters is not only how we play, but what kind of players we produce — people who can make a difference on the pitch. In the empty dressing room, I heard a match that has never been broadcast. And that match is still going on, every day, across training grounds in Vietnam. It is a war between the memory of a playing style and the pressure of modernisation. Its outcome will determine the face of Vietnamese football in the years to come. Pitch 9 in 2026 planted in me a question: where does football beat when no one scores? The answer I found after many years is: it beats in the corners of the pitch that are not televised, in the players who are not named, and in the plays that are not recorded. The disappearance of traditional wingers is one of those silent moments. It does not appear in the headlines, but it is happening, and it is changing Vietnamese football in ways we may not yet realise. The 2026 microphone stumble did not silence me; it taught me to listen before writing. And that lesson remains as valuable as ever when I write about the things not mentioned in Vietnamese football today.

V-League Pulse: When Traditional Wingers Are Erased

V-League Pulse: When Traditional Wingers Are Erased

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