Sideline Pressing: Lessons Vietnam Learned from the Defeat to Indonesia at My Dinh

Hook Minute 56, My Dinh Stadium fell into an eerie silence. Rafael Struick had just received a long pass from his own half, and no Vietnamese player closed him down within 5 meters. A chest touch, one extra touch, a diagonal shot. 1-0 for Indonesia. I glanced at the stats board: the hosts had completed 11 successful presses in the first half, all in the central third. Both flanks, supposedly the tactical weapon of coach Kim Sang-sik, were left wide open. That goal did not come from an individual error. It came from a space that tactics inadvertently left behind – the gap between the full-back and the left-sided center-back, the exact zone Indonesia targeted for 60 minutes. I re-watched the footage and counted: at least seven times Indonesia attempted to feed the ball into that zone before the opening goal. Context The 0-1 defeat to Indonesia at My Dinh on March 26, 2026 was no accident. It was Vietnam's third match under coach Kim Sang-sik after he replaced Troussier, and there are still no signs of a coherent system. In the previous two matches, Vietnam won thanks to individual moments from Tien Linh and Quang Hai, but the data on space control was alarmingly poor. Indonesia under Shin Tae-yong entered this match with an actively deep defensive block. They had no intention of keeping more possession. They simply waited for Vietnam to push up and exploit the space behind the two full-backs. Indeed, Indonesia's long passes were predominantly aimed at Vietnam's left flank – where Van Thanh pushed high but had no cover. According to data I gathered from international matches, Indonesia's long-pass completion rate in this game reached 78%, well above their 58% average in World Cup qualifying. That showed they were not improvising. They had studied Vietnam's weaknesses thoroughly. Core The formula does not live on the tactical board. It lives in the spaces that tactics inadvertently leave behind. For Vietnam, that space was on the right flank – where full-back Van Thanh advanced while right center-back Duy Manh lacked the pace to cover. When the team pushed up to press, the distance between these two stretched to 35 meters – far too large compared to the 18-20 meter standard of modern football. Look at the goal again. Indonesia launched a long ball from the goalkeeper. Their center-back won the aerial duel against Tien Linh and laid it off to Struick. Struick positioned himself precisely in the void between Van Thanh – the highest man in the lineup – and Duy Manh – who had to shift wide. Struick's chest touch moved the ball another 3 meters forward, enough time and space to take a shot. None of the five Vietnamese players around could close the distance in time to apply pressure. Based on my experience watching matches over the past five years, I have noticed a chronic problem in Vietnamese football: pressing the ball rather than pressing the man and the space. Players chase the ball like a swarm of ants, leaving massive gaps behind. In the first half, Vietnam completed 11 presses, but all were in the middle third, where the pressure posed no danger. Conversely, every time Indonesia moved the ball wide, they instantly had two players closing in on the receiver, forcing Vietnam to pass backward and breaking their attacking rhythm. This creates a paradox: Vietnam held 58% possession but generated only 0.42 xG, while Indonesia with 42% possession generated 1.35 xG. In 2026, I learned to listen. When the shouting faded, the coach's voice became the only soundtrack on the pitch. In this match, I could hear coach Kim Sang-sik constantly yelling "keep the distance" from the touchline, but his players could not sustain that distance for more than 10 minutes at a time. Contrarian The biggest blind spot in the media's post-match analysis was blaming the defense or goalkeeper Dinh Trieu. But the problem lay in pressing and the structural shape when losing possession. I do not believe in luck. I believe in systems designed to create luck. And Indonesia's system was designed to create a goal from precisely the opponent's tactical mistake. Compare with Morocco at the 2026 World Cup – a team with the same proactive defensive philosophy but turned it into counter-attacking art. Morocco did not press all over. They pressed with intent, funneling the ball to one side, then trapping opponents in congested areas. What Vietnam lacks is not fitness, but tactical discipline in maintaining their shape. The answer may lie in changing the approach: instead of chaotic high pressing, press in waves, deliberately, and crucially, have one midfielder responsible for "blocking" the passing lane into the space behind the full-back. That is the job of the central midfielder, not the center-back. Takeaway This loss to Indonesia is an expensive but necessary lesson. In the last three matches, Vietnam's PPDA has dropped from 9.2 to 7.8 – evidence of weakening pressing ability. The question is not whether Vietnam should press, but how and where. I end this article with a question: will coach Kim Sang-sik have the courage to change a habit that Southeast Asian teams have applied for two decades – the habit of chasing the ball instead of chasing space? The match against the Philippines in June will provide the answer.