Vietnam 0-2 Thailand: When Losing the Target Striker Collapses the Entire Attacking Structure

Tuesday, December 15, 2026. The ball had barely rolled for a few minutes on the Gelora Bandung Lautan Api pitch when Thailand opened the scoring with a long-range strike from Sarach Yooyen. There was nothing special about the technique of that shot—except that it found the back of a Vietnamese net while the team in red was enjoying more possession and looked like they were controlling the match.

I watched the match footage three times. The first time, I focused on the goal conceded. The second time, I counted how many times the ball was delivered into the penalty area. The third time, I counted how many times the ball was blocked at the edge of the penalty area. The answer to all three times led to the same point: Vietnam no longer knew how to get the ball into Thailand's penalty area.

Expert Doan Minh Xuong, who was present at the stadium, said what the match footage also confirmed: "Vietnam's attack is clearly much weaker without Xuan Son." But I want to go one step further than the usual understanding. The problem is not the absence of a good striker. The problem is the absence of a function.

**What does Xuan Son bring to the pitch?

**When a team loses a tall target striker, people immediately think of losing goals. But that is only the surface. What is actually lost is three other things.

First, the ability to hold the ball. When a target striker stands in the penalty area, receives a pass from a teammate, turns his back to the opposing defender, and holds the ball while his teammates make runs, that is a function that no other striker in Vietnam's current squad can replace. In this match, I counted at least eight situations where the ball should have been delivered to a target striker to hold, but no one was there.

Second, the ability to operate independently. Xuan Son can create opportunities on his own from situations that do not look promising. Without him, every attacking pass must go through at least two players to create a shot. Thailand read this and kept their defensive block low.

Third, and this is the least discussed point: the ability to occupy space. When a target striker stands in the penalty area, the two opposing center-backs cannot push up too high. They must stay to track him. Without a target striker, Thailand's two center-backs could push up close to the halfway line, narrowing the gaps between their lines and making every Vietnamese attacking pass predictable.

**What did Thailand do?

**For the rest of the match, Thailand switched to a low block and waited. This was not a random change. It was a pre-calculated plan, and it worked perfectly.

When Thailand took the lead, they no longer needed to attack. They maintained their low defensive block, retreated close to their own penalty area, and waited for Vietnam to make mistakes. Vietnam, forced to attack to find an equalizer, lost their best weapon: the ability to counter-attack.

This is the biggest paradox of the match. Vietnam is strongest when playing defensive counter-attack football. But when trailing, they had no choice but to push forward. Thailand understood this, and they exploited it.

Chanathip Songkrasin was deployed as a false nine, a position he does not regularly occupy. But it was a smart move. When Chanathip dropped deep into midfield, Vietnam's defense had to make a decision: follow him out of the penalty area, or hold position. If they followed him, space would appear behind them. If they held position, Chanathip would have the ball in open space. Vietnam chose the latter, and the result was that they could not control the match.

**The halftime change

**In the second half, coach Kim Sang-sik made a formation change, switching from 3-4-3 to 3-5-2. But what was notable was not the formation change itself, but the reason behind it.

When a team has to deploy a full-back into central midfield, that is not a tactical choice. It is an admission that the team no longer has enough central midfielders to use. Cao Quang Vinh was pulled into the middle of the park, and that said more about the depth of Vietnam's squad than any statement from the coach.

The second-half substitutions—Hai Long and Hoang Duc coming on—improved the team's cohesion. But improving cohesion is not the same as creating scoring opportunities. Vietnam still could not get the ball into the penalty area in an organized manner, and shots from outside remained the only option.

**A dangerous narrative

**In the hours after the match, I read through Vietnamese newspaper articles. Almost all of them revolved around the same theme: Xuan Son's absence. And I understand why. It is a simple, easy-to-understand story, and most importantly, it does not blame anyone.

But that is precisely what makes it dangerous.

When a defeat is explained entirely by a player's absence, all other problems are obscured. The fitness issue that experts themselves acknowledged was "not good." The squad depth issue clearly demonstrated when a full-back had to play central midfield. The preparation issue that Vietnam entered the tournament with "too many problems" and "not a full squad."

All of these problems existed before the match began. And all of them will continue to exist after Xuan Son returns.

**What is really happening?

**I have spent 42 years observing football, and I have learned that what happens on the pitch is only the tip of the iceberg. The submerged part—preparation, squad depth, the development of specific positions—is where the defeat is truly determined.

Vietnam is dependent on a naturalized striker. This is not wrong—many teams around the world do the same. But when that dependence becomes absolute, when there is no viable alternative, that is a sign of a larger problem: a gap in the development of domestic target strikers.

I have watched many young Vietnamese players in recent years. There are young strikers with good finishing skills, but they lack the ball-holding and independent operation abilities that a target striker needs. This is not their fault—it is the fault of a training system that has prioritized technique and speed over defensive awareness and ball retention.

Thailand, on the other side of the pitch, showed a different model. They have depth in central midfield, allowing them to make substitutions without reducing quality. They have multiple attacking options—not dependent on a single player. And they have the ability to adapt to different match situations.

**Looking ahead

**The question is not when Xuan Son will return. The question is how Vietnam will use him when he does.

If the answer is "the same as before," then the problem will persist. Vietnam needs to develop an attacking system that does not depend entirely on a single player. They need to find other ways to get the ball into the penalty area—not relying solely on a target striker to hold the ball and create space.

What does this mean in practice? It means developing strikers who can make runs into the penalty area from multiple positions. It means improving the passing ability of central midfielders, so they can find passes that penetrate low defensive blocks. And it means accepting that sometimes, even without a target striker, the team must still have ways to score.

I am not saying that Vietnam will not be able to win matches in the future. They have good players, and they have a coach who knows how to adapt. But if they do not solve the fundamental problem—the dependence on a single position—then defeats like this will continue to occur, regardless of whether Xuan Son is present or not.

Young talent is a layer of sediment; people only see the surface soil. And sometimes, even when you dig deep, you still only see what you want to see.