Vietnamese Women's Volleyball: When Every Touch Counts in Years, Not Broadcast Seconds

The moment I still remember vividly after six years of following the sport

It was in the third block attempt of the fourth set in the 2026 national women's volleyball championship final. The spiker was a 19-year-old girl, 1m78 tall, who came in from the bench in the 87th minute of the third set when the team was down 2-1. That spike wasn't broadcast live — it happened at a home court in Thanh Hoa, in a 2,000-seat arena, but only 847 spectators were present. No camera pointed her way. I counted: it was the 47th ball play of the set, and she was the third player mentioned on the electronic scoreboard.

Three days later, Vietnam's largest sports newspaper published a 1,200-word analysis of that match. In that article, the 19-year-old girl was mentioned twice — both times in the same sentence, as a minor detail.

That is the essence of the work I chose: standing where there are no cameras, and documenting what no one sees.

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Vietnamese women's volleyball is at a strange juncture. The national team has made significant progress in the 2026-2028 Olympic cycle, with a fourth-place finish at the 2026 Asian Championship and a young generation gradually establishing their presence. The national women's volleyball league — gathering the eight strongest teams — is witnessing unprecedented competition between Thong tin LienVietPostBank, Vietinbank, and the Hanoi University of Science and Technology women's team. But when I counted news articles about this league on major sports platforms during the first week of June, the number was only 12 — fewer than the number of players who took the field in a single men's First Division football match.

This is not a story about injustice. This is a story about what is changing — and what still hasn't.

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Context: The numbers I have been counting

In 2026, when I was a final-year student in Broadcasting at Nha Trang, I attended the VTV Cup final — a tournament gathering eight international teams, including Vietnam's women's team. The Nha Trang Sports Center had a capacity of 3,500, and the final was packed. I counted 3,247 spectators — an impressive number, higher than many V-League football matches at the same time.

After the match, I checked social media for coverage. In the following 48 hours, only 3 articles on major sports platforms mentioned the match. Three articles. Meanwhile, a friendly match of the men's national team against a lower-division team on the same day had 27 articles.

Since then, I have developed a habit: every week, I count the number of articles about women's volleyball on Vietnam's five largest sports platforms. Results over six years show a consistently painful picture. On average, each women's volleyball V-League match received 4.3 articles. Each men's Second Division football match received 11.7 articles.

That ratio — 4.3 versus 11.7 — is not simply an injustice. It reflects a value system established long ago, where media attention is allocated not by competition quality but by the historical accumulation of a sport in the public consciousness.

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Tactical analysis: What I saw from the stands

Over six years of following Vietnamese women's volleyball, I have witnessed significant tactical evolution. And the most notable development is not with the national team — where resources and attention are concentrated — but with V-League clubs, where tactical experiments occur with less fanfare but may shape the future of the sport.

The multi-point attack system is replacing the "single star" model

Five years ago, most Vietnamese women's volleyball teams still built their game around a central satellite — a primary spiker accounting for 30-35% of the team's total attacks. This was a common model in early Southeast Asian volleyball, when average height was limited and concentrating resources on the strongest attacking point was logical strategy.

But since the 2026-2026 season, I have observed a clear shift. At the 2026 national championship, Thong tin LienVietPostBank — Vietnam's most decorated team — experimented with a "four-point attack" system, where ball distribution was more balanced among offensive positions. Result: the team's set-win rate increased from 58% (2026-2026 season) to 67% (2026-2026 season), and more importantly, the team averaged 2.3 block points per set — significantly higher than the previous season's 1.7.

What I observed: the multi-point system is not just a tactical choice but a response to opponent physical development. As average height in Southeast Asian women's volleyball rises — Vietnam had 4 players over 1m85 on the 2026 national team, compared to zero in 2026 — concentrating on one attacking point becomes easier to block.

The libero position and the quiet revolution

In modern volleyball, the libero is a defensive specialist — wearing a different colored jersey, only playing in the back row, and not allowed to attack within three meters of the boundary line. In Vietnam, this position was once considered "for players not good enough to attack." Teams usually placed liberos at the bottom of the roster, treating it as a position with little impact on match outcomes.

But since 2026, I have witnessed a change. Top teams like Vietinbank and Thong tin LienVietPostBank began recruiting and developing professional liberos — players trained in ball-handling, movement, and reading opponent spiking directions.

The match I watched in March 2026 between Vietinbank and the Hanoi University of Science and Technology women's team was the clearest evidence of this change. Vietinbank's libero — a 23-year-old woman, 1m67 tall — recorded 47 digs over 5 sets, with a perfect pass rate of 71%. For comparison: in a match in the same league two years prior, this number typically ranged from 45-50 digs with a 52-55% perfect pass rate.

The 71% perfect pass rate is not just a statistic — it is the foundation for the team's entire offensive system. When the ball is delivered to the ideal position with precise height and speed, the setter can execute the full tactical menu: adjusting tempo, changing direction, and most importantly, creating surprise for the opposing block.

Serving tactics: From pure power to calculation

One of the changes I have observed most clearly over the past three years is how teams approach serving. Previously, serving tactics in Vietnamese women's volleyball relied primarily on power — the stronger the serve, the better, hoping to create psychological pressure and force opponents into poor reception.

But since the 2026-2026 season, I have noticed a shift toward "tactical serving" — where serves are calculated based on specific opponent weaknesses, timing within the set, and even the physical condition of individual opponents.

In a match I attended live in Hanoi in November 2026, the home team used three different serve types within the same set: a float serve targeting the libero to disrupt reception rhythm; a cut serve targeting the sideline to push the receiver out of ideal position; and a topspin serve targeting a newly substituted attacker to apply immediate psychological pressure.

Result: the opposing team's good pass rate dropped from 68% to 54% in the third set — and that was the set the home team won by a 6-point margin.

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The contrarian view: Commercial value vs. athletic value

There is a debate I have witnessed many times in press conferences and sports forums: can women's volleyball compete commercially with men's football? This question — with how it is framed — is wrong from the start.

When all microphones point in one direction, I choose to stand in the empty space.

Comparing commercial value between men's football and any women's sport is inherently unfair. Men's football has over 150 years of history, was televised since the 1930s, and has accumulated enormous "attention capital" across generations. Vietnamese women's volleyball — as a professional competition system — only has about 25 years of history, and television broadcasting only truly began in 2026.

But what few people realize is: the value of a sport lies not only in television revenue or live attendance numbers. It also lies in tactical depth, in competition quality, and in the ability to create beautiful moments that only dedicated followers can see.

I have watched both men's football and women's volleyball for many years. And I can say: at its best moments, Vietnamese women's volleyball is no less exciting, tactical, or emotional than any other sport.

The 2026 national championship final between Thong tin LienVietPostBank and Vietinbank lasted 2 hours and 47 minutes, with 5 sets played, 18 tied scores in the fifth set, and the final decision coming in the 167th minute of the match. Those 167 minutes, I sat in the highest row, recording every ball play. And I can confirm: there was not a single moment during that match when I felt I was watching an "inferior" sport.

The problem is not that women's volleyball is not exciting enough. The problem is no one broadcasts it for me, so I must find ears that have never been served.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, when all tournaments were suspended and studios sat empty, I produced the podcast "Women's Perspective" — a 12-episode series about forgotten women's volleyball athletes. Each episode reached 5,000 listens within three months. Not a massive number — but 5,000 people who actively sought out the story, instead of stumbling upon it on their news feed.

That is the audience women's volleyball needs to serve: not the infinite crowd on social media, but those who genuinely want to understand this sport.

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The change happening: The signals I see

Looking back at six years of following the sport, I realize Vietnamese women's volleyball has changed in many important ways — and not all of them appear in mainstream news articles.

First, coaching quality has improved significantly. Current V-League teams have more professional coaching staffs, with many trained in Japan, South Korea, and China — countries with the most developed women's volleyball in Asia. Physical training, injury recovery, and opponent analysis systems have professionalized considerably compared to just five years ago.

Second, the young generation is entering with different mindsets. The 2026-2026 birth cohort players I have followed in youth competitions show noticeably higher self-confidence and individual skill than the previous generation. They grew up with the internet, can watch and learn from international competitions, and are not limited by information barriers like their predecessors.

Third, the media landscape is gradually changing. While major sports platforms still focus primarily on men's football, I have seen the emergence of YouTube channels, podcasts, and social media accounts dedicated to Vietnamese women's volleyball. Not in large numbers — but these are efforts from people who genuinely care, not editors assigned to meet quotas.

Most importantly: fans still come to the arena. In the 2026 season, despite fewer news articles, live attendance at women's volleyball V-League matches actually increased 12% from the previous year. This is a number I trust, because I have personally counted attendees at many matches.

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When all microphones point in one direction

I still remember a moment from three years ago. At a friendly match between Vietnam's and Thailand's women's national teams — held at a small arena in Hanoi, with no live broadcast — I counted 1,200 spectators. Among them, approximately 200 were children aged 10-15, wearing sportswear and carrying notebooks.

I spoke with a 12-year-old girl during the break. She asked me: "Brother, why doesn't anyone talk about this tournament online? I searched everywhere but couldn't find anything."

I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't say it was injustice — because it's more complicated than that. I couldn't say things would change soon — because I'm not sure. I could only say: "You can follow the Vietnam Volleyball Federation's YouTube channel. And I will try to write more."

That girl — I don't know her name, don't know if she continued pursuing volleyball. But I know that: if no one writes about the matches she attends, she will grow up feeling that her passion doesn't matter.

That is why I write. Not to change the world — but so that when a 12-year-old searches for information about the Vietnamese women's volleyball team, there will be at least one article for her to read.

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The arena of those placed behind the scoreboard

Vietnamese women's volleyball doesn't need to be saved. The national team doesn't need to be defended. The young players developing don't need anyone to represent them.

What they need is simpler and harder at the same time: presence — presence in news articles, presence in discussions, presence in the public consciousness as a sport worth watching, not a "women's sport" to be "supported" superficially.

In the coming year, I will continue counting. Counting articles, counting spectators, counting how many times a player is mentioned in post-match commentary. And I will continue writing about what I see — matches no one watches, moments no one records, people placed behind the scoreboard.

Because the stadium falls silent during a pandemic, but hearts never stop filling. And when all microphones point in one direction, I choose to stand in the empty space — where the real stories are waiting to be told.