Vietnam Women's Team Faces 'Mountain' China: 14 Matches, 14 Defeats, and a Problem With No Miraculous Solution

14 matches. 14 encounters. 14 defeats. That number does not need any further commentary, but it still weighs heavily on the Vietnam women's team's journey ahead of the Asian Games quarterfinal against China. In football, there are gaps created by a bad match, and there are gaps created by a difference in class. And when a team enters a match with a history of 14 straight losses to their opponent, people no longer call it a 'match' – they call it a 'mountain'. But as I have written throughout three decades of reporting: the pitch does not lie. Only the people in the stands deceive themselves every weekend. The match belongs to the framework of the 20th Asian Games, where the Vietnam women's team just went through a difficult group stage. They lost to Chinese Taipei, lost to Japan, and only earned a draw against Thailand. No wins, yet the quarterfinal ticket still came to them as one of the two best third-placed teams. Because of that, not a few whispers suggested the team 'got through thanks to luck' – a label the girls must carry into the match against an opponent rated as one of Asia's and the world's top powers. On the rankings, China is a true 'mountain'. In head-to-head history, they have beaten Vietnam all 14 times they have met. Most recently, in a pre-tournament friendly, Vietnam lost 0-3. And so, the question fans ask is not 'will there be an upset?', but 'will we be able to keep our dignity?'. Historical head-to-head numbers are often dismissed as the past, but when a figure repeats 14 consecutive times, it is no longer coincidence. It is structure. It reflects a gap in investment, in youth development systems, in squad depth, and in the professional operation of women's football. While China has a dense national league, systematic academies, and a high-performance sports foundation funded by the state for decades, Vietnam's women's football is still struggling with the most basic conditions. That gap cannot be erased by a tactical training session or an inspirational speech. It is created by time, by money, and by the priorities of an entire sports ecosystem. Ahead of the match, the message from the Vietnam team is quite clear: maintain maximum focus, keep the team compact, and wait for counterattack opportunities. This is a classic prescription for an underdog team. But if you look closely, this prescription only states what we will do when we do not have the ball, without answering the bigger question: what will we do when we have the ball? A purely defensive plan, no matter how disciplined, is only a shield. It can help you block the first strikes, but it cannot help you win. What decides this match lies in the ability to convert turnovers into real chances, and that is something the 14-match history shows we have never done. There is a paradox in modern football: counter-attacking football is often very effective against teams that rely on strength and speed, but becomes fragile against teams that control possession through technique. China belongs to the second group. They are not hasty, they do not rush forward impulsively. They keep the ball, circulate, stretch the opponent's defense with sideways passes, and wait for the single moment of misalignment. When you defend with numbers, concentration is everything. But concentration is a finite energy source, and against an opponent that can hold the ball for 70 percent of the time, that concentration will erode minute by minute. This is not a prophecy of defeat, but an analysis of mechanics. And when the mechanics are clear, we need to be honest about it: the current plan can only help Vietnam limit the damage, not create a shock. So where is Vietnam's real chance? Looking at how the team prepares, the answer lies in set pieces and quick transition moments. The coaching staff's requirement that players watch video of China's defensive organization in set-piece situations shows they have identified the shortest path to the opponent's goal. A corner kick, a long throw-in, a rapid counter after the opponent loses the ball – these are things that can produce a goal without controlling the game. But to do that, you need individuals with enough pace and technique in the final action. And that, once again, touches the difference in class. Not because Vietnamese players lack effort, but because in decisive moments, the gap in individual quality is often exposed most ruthlessly. Amid the tactical calculations, there is one important detail I want to emphasize: the voice of midfielder Thai Thi Thao. She spoke of respect for the opponent, of the whole team trying more than 100 percent, of playing against a strong team being a valuable experience. Those words sound very sporting, but if you are observant, you will see that this is a carefully built protective shield. When you know you are the underdog, the first thing you do is lower public expectations. Not to make excuses, but to protect your own spirit. Thai Thi Thao and her teammates are telling us: they know what awaits, they accept reality, and they will fight so as not to regret it. That is a powerful message, even if it carries no color of a victory declaration. But there is one thing that those who only look at the scoreboard might miss. The Vietnam women's team's presence in the Asian Games quarterfinal, even as a best third-placed team, has created a significant media effect. This match is broadcast live on VTV6, a national channel, and widely covered by the press. That means millions of Vietnamese people will sit in front of screens, whether a big TV at home or a small phone at a coffee shop, to watch our girls compete. I have witnessed many Vietnam women's football matches over the years, from nearly empty stands to moments like this. And I can say: this presence has greater value than any result. It is an investment in the future, a signal to sponsors, to children practicing football in schoolyards, that the path of their older sisters is being noticed nationwide. Saigon watches football on small screens, but their hearts are still hanging in the stands. Actually, this match should also be viewed from a broader perspective. In the group stage, Vietnam could not beat Thailand or Chinese Taipei – opponents considered to be at a similar level in Southeast Asia and East Asia. That shows where we truly stand in the Asian women's football picture: not in the top group, but not in the bottom either. We are in a crowded middle class, where every match can go in any direction. Therefore, trying to find a 'miracle' against China might be a waste of energy. What matters more is to draw lessons from this match to close the gap with Thailand and Chinese Taipei themselves. That is the real battle for Vietnam's women's football. The coaching staff has made very thorough preparations, requiring players to study video of both China's tactics and individual players. That shows a certain professionalism, but it also shows a reality: they are preparing for a primarily defensive scenario. When you spend too much time learning how the opponent attacks, you implicitly admit that you will be under pressure for most of the match. That is not a criticism, but a logical admission. For a team with a significantly lower class, actively absorbing pressure and waiting for the opponent's mistakes is a reasonable choice. But it is also a risky choice, because if the opponent does not make mistakes, then all your defensive efforts simply prolong the time before a foretold outcome. And here, I want to offer a perspective that may go against the majority's thinking. Many will say that this quarterfinal ticket was 'lucky', that we do not deserve it, that the result against China will just be another loss in a long chain of helplessness. But I believe that the 'lucky' label is an insult to what the girls have been through. They did not win a match, true. But they did not give up. They gritted their teeth through three matches against stronger opponents, accepted a grueling defensive style, accepted criticism, and still stood up to enter the quarterfinal. If that is not perseverance, then I do not know what to call it. And when we continuously devalue perseverance through scoreline numbers, we are teaching the younger generation a wrong lesson: that if you cannot win, then effort means nothing. That is a cruel mindset, and it does not reflect the true spirit of football. I have sat in the reporting cabin for decades, and I have learned that football is not just numbers on a scoreboard. It is stories about people, about overcoming oneself, about moments that cannot be explained by reason. The upcoming match between Vietnam and China may not create a major shock, but it will create memorable moments. Maybe a spectacular save by the goalkeeper, maybe a long-range shot that goes just over the bar, maybe a corner kick that makes millions of hearts stop for a few seconds. And when that moment comes, I will not look at the score. I will look into the eyes of the girls, how they get up after every collision, how they shout to each other on the pitch. Because there, I will see something that no number can measure: the spirit of Vietnamese football. When the ball stops rolling this weekend, one team will advance, and one team will leave the tournament. The score could be anything. But what I want us to remember is not the number, but the image of Vietnamese girls entering a match with history against them, and still choosing to stand tall, choosing to speak about respect, choosing to keep trying. We grow old between generations of players, but we never grow old between matches. And the open question after this match will not be 'how many did we lose by?', but 'what have we learned so that tomorrow we no longer have to mention the number 14?'.