Vietnam U23 vs Uzbekistan U23: One Point in Nagoya and the Limits of Late Goals

Minute 78. I am sitting in a small room in Nha Trang, my phone propped sideways against a stack of old books. Kuwait U23 score. I say nothing at all. Two minutes later, Nguyen Ngoc My puts the ball in the net, and on the other side of the wall, my neighbour claps. A lone burst of applause in the night, yet it says what no scoreboard can: this team lives on moments it dares to breathe only at the very end.

The stadium stands empty, but I still hear a million hearts breathing through the radio. That night, after the whistle, I stayed up taking notes. Twenty-eight years in this trade and I still keep the habit: one page per match, each page split into two columns, one for chances, one for goals. After Kuwait, the left column was full of writing. The right column held a single line. Against the Philippines, the story repeated itself almost word for word.

That is why I am writing this before the final group match, rather than waiting for the last whistle and commenting afterwards.

Vietnam U23 have four points from two matches. The 1-1 draw with Kuwait U23 and the 2-0 win over the Philippines U23 have put coach Dinh Hong Vinh's side in control of their own fate. One point against Uzbekistan U23 in the final round guarantees second place in Group C and a place in the ASIAD 2026 quarter-finals in Nagoya. A win, and they close the group stage at the top.

On the other side, Uzbekistan U23 have already completed their objective a round early. Two wins over the Philippines U23 and Kuwait U23 have secured the Central Asian side's ticket. For a team with nothing left to play for in terms of points, the final round is usually a moment for squad calculation. Having played with ten men for most of the second half against Kuwait, there is every reason to expect Uzbekistan U23 to rest a few key names for the knock-out stage.

That situation opens two paths, and both carry a price.

Looking back at the first two matches, Vietnam U23 have shown decent ball control and attacking organisation. The midfield keeps the rhythm, the forward runners move wide, and the ball reaches the penalty area through several different routes. What is missing is the finish. Against Kuwait, Dinh Hong Vinh's side created chance after chance without converting, conceded in the 78th minute, and needed Nguyen Ngoc My's strike two minutes later to salvage a point. Against the Philippines, the script repeated: they had to wait until the closing minutes to settle the match.

Dragging the waiting game to the very end is not an identity; it is a signal that needs to be read correctly. Vietnam U23's attack handles the second beat well but is slow on the decisive beat — right positions, right runs, but the final strike lacks coldness. This matters more than the scoreline, because knock-out matches are settled by very small moments, and there is no extra time there to correct mistakes if the chances keep being wasted.

Uzbekistan U23 bring a different quality. The Central Asian side are rated highly for their physical base, their duels and the speed of their ball progression. They press quickly, exploit space on both flanks and deliver the ball into dangerous areas at pace. This will be a direct test for Vietnam U23's midfield. If Uzbekistan are allowed to control the middle of the pitch comfortably, Dinh Hong Vinh's team will come under heavy pressure, and that pressure usually turns into corners and set pieces — where the physicality and height of the Central Asian side come into play.

Conversely, Vietnam U23 hold an advantage from the group situation itself. Uzbekistan no longer have a specific points target, while Vietnam need only a draw. A compact defensive block, keeping the lines close together and using the pace of Thanh Nhan and Le Phat on the counter, is a sensible plan. Based on my experience following Vietnam U23 matches from qualifying to now, I have noticed this team defends best when it knows exactly what it is waiting for, rather than when it is pushed into vague, reactive defending.

But there is a blind spot here that collective memory tends to skip over.

All week, the common phrase has been "we only need a point". It sounds safe, but it turns a match into a waiting room. Teams that walk onto the pitch in a waiting mindset usually end up waiting for the wrong thing. Football does not award points for well-timed caution; it awards points for deliberate caution. A deep defensive line whose forward players cannot hold the ball turns itself into a training dummy, and the last thirty minutes stretch out like thirty years.

The second blind spot lies in the assumption that Uzbekistan U23 will rotate. The assumption has grounds, but it is also a trap. Squad players handed a chance in the final round tend to play with a very different mindset: they play for a place, to prove themselves, to avoid being forgotten once the knock-out stage begins. A rotated XI does not mean a weaker XI; sometimes it means a hungrier XI.

And there is one more thing. Four points from two matches is a respectable return, but how those four points were won is the real story. In both matches, Vietnam U23 had to repair their own mistakes inside a short window at the end. People remember the goals, but I remember the moment a team had to save itself in silence. In the group stage, there is still time to fix things. In the quarter-finals, that time disappears.

Forty-four years chasing a ball, and I finally realised I was running towards people — and what those people taught me is this: character is not equalising in the 80th minute, it is never putting yourself in a position where you have to.

If Vietnam U23 keep their defensive focus, hold the distances between the lines and sharpen their finishing, Dinh Hong Vinh's side have enough grounds to aim for a favourable result. A draw in Nagoya would take them through the group stage and build psychological momentum for the knock-out rounds, where every mistake is taxed immediately.

Tonight in Nha Trang there will be another burst of applause on the other side of the wall, or a silence that lasts longer. What I most want to hear is not the roar when the ball hits the net in the 89th minute, but the sigh of relief in the 60th — the sign of a team that has taken control of its own match. Will Vietnam U23 learn that in time, before the knock-out stage opens?