I don’t expect the intensity of the British game or the numbers we see in Germany, but surely we can expect more than the largely muted atmosphere of the V.League.
This V.League fixture lacked atmosphere, with large sections of empty seating. Photo @afreeves23
AF Reeves - @afreeves23
Việt Nam is an anomaly, not only in the disproportionate impact it has had on the zeitgeist, but in a myriad of other social, economic and cultural ways. Before moving here, I already knew it was going to be something different, something a bit special, even compared to the other Southeast Asian nations I’d been fortunate enough to visit. Too many people had waxed lyrical about the enormity of the impact it had on their lives, a country where one can find peace and balance within an ocean of contrast and contradiction.
More well-travelled friends reliably informed me this was a country that loved football, that the only other universal language with which I possessed any fluency was very much alive here. From your first taxi journey into the city, all the way out to the most far-flung provinces, people will ask where you’re from and almost immediately follow it up with the name of their favourite club or player from your country.
Those who don’t love football will never know the joys of sitting around a table with complete strangers, language barriers broken as the names of increasingly obscure footballers become shared cultural reference points and convenient excuses to clink glasses. The accessibility and popularity of the sport are uniting, with those from all walks of life as welcome as any other. Football is a community and, as the cliché goes, it truly is “nothing without the fans”. So my question to Việt Nam is: where are they?
We’ve all witnessed the insanity of “đi bão”, as thousands take to the streets in a storm of national pride and collective joy. It is a true cultural phenomenon. So why does a country with such vibrant displays of patriotism in victory, persistence and patience in defeat, and visible, visceral love for the game, have such a weak domestic fan culture? That may sound cruel, and I don’t expect the intensity of the British game or the numbers seen in Germany, but surely we can expect more than the largely muted atmosphere of the V.League.
The reasons are many. Speaking to friends, including a former Vietnam News columnist who covered the domestic game here, and Anh Bui, a local pundit and Bundesliga analyst, there’s a perceived lack of fairness in club ownership and player distribution, which undermines competition and erodes enthusiasm. There’s still a lingering sense of mistrust from the corruption scandal which rocked the league over a decade ago, and, with the quality and affordability of international leagues beamed across the globe, value is undeniably a factor.
I know some will feel defensive reading this, but Hải Phòng and Nam Định aside, there is a genuinely disappointing lack of fan culture here, creating a cycle of poor atmosphere and dwindling interest. Việt Nam has some of the most engaged and passionate football fans on the continent, yet the matchday experience does them no justice. I want a classroom of students who support Hà Nội FC or Thể Công and feel excited about going to the match at the weekend, rather than just watching highlights of Lamine Yamal’s latest trick. The question, fans and readers, is how?