2026-2027 National Cup: The Wave of Upsets from First Division Clubs and the Tactical Equation Behind 4 V-League Defeats

Last weekend, the pitches across Vietnam witnessed a paradox that is hard to swallow for those who only look at league standings: 4 V-League clubs simultaneously fell to First Division opponents in the qualifying round of the 2026-2027 National Cup. Not a stroke of luck, not a one-in-a-million long-range strike, but a repeated pattern — a structural signal. I do not dismiss this as "big clubs ignoring a small cup" and move on. To me, this is a map showing how Vietnamese clubs stack their priorities, and where they place their fitness, spirit, and ambition over a long season. The context of these matches is far from simple. The National Cup qualifying round came right after the 2026-2027 V-League had just started with 2 rounds. With a dense schedule, frequent travel, and two important league fixtures in between, most V-League clubs chose to rotate their squads or rest key players. This sounds rational in terms of fitness management, but it collides with a lesson I learned from my mistake in 2026: theoretical formations do not win matches; specific players placed in the right operational context do. Back then, I confidently claimed that Coach Nguyen Huu Thang's 4-1-4-1 would neutralize Iraq's midfield. Iraq produced 23 shots, three times more than I predicted. Since then, I have understood that a team is only strong when its structure is designed around its current personnel and their level of readiness, not on the reputation of the league. The four defeats of V-League clubs last week were not just about mentality. Thanh Hoa lost 0-2 at home to Becamex Ho Chi Minh City — a team that was just relegated but retained almost the same V-League quality. There was nothing surprising tactically: Becamex pressed high, pushed both flanks, and constantly attacked the wing-back positions of Thanh Hoa. I see a team as a blueprint, and the biggest surprise comes from the attacking plane. The first goal came from a combination on the right side — where Thanh Hoa's central midfielder dropped too deep, leaving the right-back to face two opponents. The gap between center-back and full-back was so wide that the through pass was executed as easily as in training. The second goal came from a textbook counterattack: losing the ball in midfield, Thanh Hoa had no screen in front of the center-backs, allowing the Becamex striker to receive the ball, turn, and pass into the space behind the defensive line. It was not a random moment; it was rehearsed, designed to exploit the host's structural weakness. Thanh Hoa is in an internal crisis. Before the match, news emerged that FIFA required the club to pay over USD 305,000 (about VND 8 billion) to Rimario Gordon following a complaint by the Jamaican forward. If not resolved within 45 days from the document dated September 16, Thanh Hoa will be banned from registering new players for three transfer windows — a punishment capable of strangling next season's squad plan. The issue arose from the previous sponsor's term, while the club has now been handed over to a new sponsor. This is what I often say: "Failure in a match often happens when we start praying instead of adjusting." When a club does not know if it has money to maintain the squad until next month, it is impossible to expect players to give 100% physical and mental effort in a cup tie they consider secondary. The mistake of 2026 has not disappeared; it became the yardstick for every prediction I make. And that yardstick shows: financial instability is the strongest catalyst for tactical collapse, faster than any opponent. In Quy Nhon, Hoang Anh Gia Lai lost 2-3 to Hung Yen even though they were playing at their temporary home. Pleiku Stadium is being renovated due to poor drainage during heavy rain, so the mountain town team had to play away from their natural fortress — no familiar supporters, no familiar atmosphere. Hung Yen led 3-1 from the 77th minute, and Hoang Anh Gia Lai could only pull one back from a penalty in the 90+4 minute. The truth lies in the attacking plane: Hoang Anh Gia Lai had more possession, but the final passes lacked sharpness. They passed sideways, backwards, waiting for a moment of individual genius, while Hung Yen played direct, fast, low-touch football — every turnover was aimed at the space behind the advancing defensive line. This is the lesson I drew from the 2026 World Cup when analyzing Morocco under Walid Regragui: you do not need to dominate possession; you just need a clear defensive plan and a rehearsed counterattacking route, and the underdog can completely dictate the game. The passer always sees the pass before receiving the ball; I merely try to read back that thought. And the thought of Hung Yen's players in this match was simple: "when they push high, we play behind them." Everything else is just technique. Hai Phong lost 0-1 at home to Thep Can Tho. Thep Can Tho had just moved from Quang Ninh to the Western capital, and had just lost their opening match in the First Division. But they still had Thaileon — a striker who joined only a few days before the match — and he scored the only goal in the first half. Did it come from a set piece? No. A counterattack? Not exactly. It came from a situation where Hai Phong's defense stood waiting, no one pressed the striker receiving the ball in the space between the lines. Thaileon only needed one touch to control and one shot. The most effective space is not where many people are, but where few people notice — right in front of the center-back, where no one thinks danger exists. I no longer name the best player; I name the most effective space. In this match, that space was located right at the central defensive midfielder of Hai Phong, who failed to track Thaileon's inward movement. The only match that went to a penalty shootout was Phu Tho against Hong Linh Ha Tinh. After a 0-0 draw in 90 minutes, Hong Linh Ha Tinh lost on penalties. For a club with limited resources, having to travel, play a tense match, and then go to a shootout is a significant physical cost before the next V-League round. No tactic can save a team that has chosen to "wait for the final whistle" against a weaker opponent. Identity is eroded when no one dares to experiment, when no one dares to make a difference. A common theme in all these defeats: V-League teams played with the mindset of "not losing is enough", while First Division teams played with the mindset of "this is the biggest match of the year". The passer always sees the pass before receiving the ball; I merely try to read back that thought. The First Division teams prepared for this match with a clear tactical plan, they accepted to give up territory, accepted to have less possession, but they never lost their direction when they had the ball. The V-League teams, in contrast, lacked that preparation; they relied on individual technique, on a key player erupting, on luck. That is exactly what I call "a blueprint without scale". The contrarian angle here, what I want readers to see, is this: these four defeats are not a disaster; they are a perfect test to measure the management capacity of each club. The National Cup has long been seen as a place for weaker teams to "play for the sake of playing", but this season, the First Division teams have turned it into a battlefield to prove they deserve a higher level. On the flip side, the V-League teams have shown that if they do not invest properly, do not build squad depth, do not have a stable philosophy throughout the season, then their V-League status is merely a fragile name. I see a team as a blueprint, and the biggest surprise comes from the attacking plane — how they build up when pressed, how they create space against a low block. The First Division teams did their homework; the V-League teams treated the cup as a burden and did not prepare at all. The result was a string of matches where the most effective space was always on the side of the team that was more hungry and better organized. What will be the legacy of these matches? If the V-League teams do not change their mentality, the story of "V-League teams losing to First Division teams" will no longer be a shock, but a recurring script every season. I am not saying the cup should be prioritized over the V-League; survival and long-term goals do matter. But losing at the very qualifying round, losing with an unprepared performance, losing because of indifference — that erodes the winning culture of an entire club, not just one match. Looking further, for Vietnamese football to develop, First Division teams need playgrounds like this to nurture ambition. V-League teams need to realize that their opponents in the lower division are beginning to understand tactics better, and the gap between rich and poor will not be maintained by reputation anymore, but by investing in the right place, at the right time. The National Cup can be a playground to test young players, to give bench players match experience, but it is also a place where teams learn to establish their own identity — something the First Division teams are doing very well. In the end, the story of last weekend is not about which team won or lost. It is about how each club understands itself. "Each match is a miniature model; I only point out the hot spot if you are willing to look calmly." The hot spot here is not only on the pitch — it is in the meeting rooms, on the payroll, in who takes responsibility when the club sinks too deep into a relegation battle. When a club is banned from registering players, when a club must play at a temporary home, when a club is less than a week old — that is when people truly see the DNA of an entire football culture. I will follow them in the next few rounds, not to predict who wins or loses, but to see who is willing to change before it is too late. Because the calendar never compresses the question "why", but it always provides answers for those willing to read closely.