Vietnam U23 vs Thailand U23 in Gia Lai: Four Teams, Six Days, and a Fitness Test Before the Asian Qualifiers

In Vietnam U23's last three training-level matches, the average number of duels won in the second half dropped 18% compared to the first half. That is a figure I recorded by eye and by a table I built myself, not by professional software. But it is enough to say one thing: when the schedule tightens, Vietnam's youth teams gradually lose the ability to hold the ball in midfield, and everything behind collapses with it. The four-team international tournament in Pleiku this November, with four teams in six days, will be an exact test of that weakness.

The Vietnam Football Federation has announced plans to host an international U23 friendly tournament in Gia Lai, bringing together four teams: Vietnam U23, Thailand U23, Qatar U23 and Singapore U23. According to the provisional schedule, the teams assemble from November 8, with matches from November 10 to November 14 at Pleiku Stadium. The event sits within the activities marking National Tourism Year - Gia Lai 2026, coordinated between the VFF, the Gia Lai Department of Culture, Sports and Tourism, and Hoang Anh Gia Lai Club.

This information comes from the federation and reads as an official press release. On the announced facts, reliability is high. But there is no data on squad lists, coaching staff, broadcasters or funding. And that gap is where the real discussion begins.

Before going deeper, I need to state clearly how I read this tournament. People usually look at a four-team friendly tournament and ask: which team wins? To me, that question is meaningless. This is not a tournament to win. It is a tournament to experiment, and experiments need hypotheses. If the coaching staff walk into those six days without a hypothesis to test, then six days are wasted.

Hypothesis one: whether Vietnam U23's fitness base can handle three matches in five days.

This is the central question, and it is not new. I wrote about this after the Tokyo 2026 Olympics, when Brazil's women's team lost to Canada on penalties after 120 minutes, and I pointed out that the team had assembled only three weeks before the tournament while Canada had a long-term development programme. The story in Pleiku differs in scale but is identical in nature: fixture congestion is the biggest single cause of injury, and no medical staff can save a team playing two matches a week if the physical foundation was not built beforehand.

With four teams in a single round robin, each team plays three matches in five days. That averages 48 hours between games. At U23 level, recovery after a high-intensity match is slower than for senior players already accustomed to professional rhythms. Muscles are not fully developed, the central nervous system is not used to sustained load, and most importantly: many players in this age bracket are still playing domestic football at uneven intensity. Some start 90 minutes every week. Some sit on the bench for a month.

When you compress twenty players with different physical baselines into one block, the result is usually not an average. The result is that the squad splits into two tiers: a group capable of playing three matches and a group capable of playing one. The coaching staff have two options. One is to rotate widely in the first match, accept a poor result to save legs for the next two. Two is to field the strongest team in the first two matches, and let the third be an entirely different eleven.

I lean toward the first approach, but with conditions. Rotation must have a principle, not just a gesture. If the Thailand match is played with a second-string side, then that match must answer one specific question: which of the fringe players is genuinely capable of starting in the Asian qualifiers? If the answer is nobody, then that match is meaningless in professional terms, valuable only for pleasing the Gia Lai crowd.

Hypothesis two: whether the opponents chosen actually fit the need.

These four teams are not random. They represent three different footballing styles. Thailand are the traditional rival, technical, short-passing, good at controlling tempo and deeply irritating when pressed. Qatar are a West Asian side with a physical base and quick transition ability, often troublesome for Southeast Asian teams used to a slower rhythm. Singapore are the lowest-ranked opponent but also a psychological test: the stronger team must win, and win convincingly, or the pressure shifts onto young players.

I have seen this before at another youth tournament. The highly-rated team played well enough in the first half, led 1-0, then spent the entire second half retreating to protect the score. They won that match. But three months later, in a more important game, that same side retreated again at minute 70 and lost from a winning position. The habit of protecting a lead is formed in 'easy' matches nobody pays attention to. That is why the Singapore match, to me, matters no less than the Thailand match.

And Thailand? I have said this many times and I hold the view: Vietnam's youth teams often match Thailand mentally but lose structurally. Not individual technique. Structure. When Thailand press, they press as a block, not as individuals. When they counter, they counter down channels, not toward the ball. That forces the opponent to read the game at a higher speed than normal, and that is precisely the skill a friendly tournament can build if the coaching staff set the right demands.

Hypothesis three: whether Pleiku is the right choice.

Pleiku Stadium is not Vietnam's largest. But it has a characteristic I rate highly: a stable pitch surface and a large, passionate local crowd that is not excessively demanding. For a friendly tournament aimed at young players, that is close to ideal conditions. At My Dinh, young players would carry the pressure of a national stadium, where a misplaced pass becomes a jeer. In Pleiku, a misplaced pass becomes encouragement.

But there is a downside. A smaller stadium means a pitch less tested at continuous high intensity. Three matches in five days on the same surface, plus training sessions, is significant pressure on the drainage system and grass quality. November in the Central Highlands marks the start of the dry season but can still bring sudden rain. A match on a muddy surface does not only ruin the professional value; it raises the risk of knee and ankle injuries, exactly the kind young players must avoid most.

There is another point rarely mentioned. Hosting the tournament in Gia Lai as part of National Tourism Year ties football to a locality, something Vietnamese football has done very poorly for twenty years. Hoang Anh Gia Lai was once the model for youth development tied to a locality, and their involvement in organising this event is a positive signal. But I do not want to confuse signal with outcome. A tournament organised well in hospitality, media and attendance can still be professionally worthless if the coaching staff set no specific technical demands.

The counterargument: perhaps I am asking too much of a friendly tournament.

This is where I check myself. A four-team tournament in November, four teams, six days, staged in a Central Highlands province, might simply be an occasion for young players to gain international matches, for local fans to see top-level football, for the VFF to have another activity in the year. Not every tournament has to be a tactical laboratory. Sometimes a friendly only needs to be a friendly.

That argument is reasonable, and I accept it to a degree. But two reasons prevent me from fully agreeing.

First, the calendar. Four teams, three matches, five days, immediately before the 2028 AFC U23 Asian Cup qualifiers. This is not empty time. This is time when every training session counts. If the goal were purely friendly, organisers would schedule two matches, not three, and would not invite four teams from three different football cultures. The structure of the tournament already announces its own ambition.

Second, experience. I have followed Vietnamese youth football long enough to know that friendly tournaments are usually well prepared in organisation and weak in professional planning. Squad lists are announced late, coaching staffs change, players arrive from different clubs with different physical baselines, and three days after the first match people are still experimenting. That is a pattern, not an exception. And patterns can change if someone asks the right question at the right time.

I could be wrong here. Perhaps the coaching staff have had a detailed plan for months and simply have not published it. Perhaps the squad list is already finalised and the clubs have been notified. Perhaps the Thailand match has already been designated the 'experimental' game with a second-string side, and Qatar the 'real' one. If so, I will be the first to write a correction. I am not afraid of being wrong. I am only afraid of silence while the question remains unanswered.

What I want to see in those six days.

First, a squad consistent in structure, not consistent in personnel. That means the same shape, the same pressing approach, the same ball progression, but with personnel changing between matches. That is the only way a short tournament produces comparable data.

Second, at least one young player establishing a position nobody expected before the tournament. A friendly tournament is most valuable when it discovers people, not when it confirms people we already knew.

Third, one match in which Vietnam U23 take the initiative against Thailand in the second half. No need to win. Just to take initiative. Because for twenty years, Vietnam's problem against Thailand has never been the first half.

And fourth, something few notice: the Pleiku crowd deserve to watch a team that genuinely wants to play football, not a team showing up to fulfil an obligation. That is the minimum a tournament branded under National Tourism Year owes the locality that agreed to host it.

Six days in Gia Lai will pass quickly. After November 14 this tournament will have no news value. But if the coaching staff use it correctly, it will leave something longer-lasting: a clearer squad, a few new names, and a lesson about fitness that the Asian qualifiers will re-examine next year. If not, it will be just six pleasant days in Pleiku, and we will sit here again next March asking why the youth team ran out of legs at minute 75.