Coach Kim Sang Sik: 'We will do our utmost to beat Pakistan'

The Vietnam national team's press conference in Jakarta this afternoon had no rain. But I still saw something wet in the way head coach Kim Sang Sik mentioned Patrik Le Giang's elbow - as if the fate of the final match hung on a small bone. He sat upright, eyes fixed on the table, then spoke in Korean, translated into Vietnamese: "Our goal is to win. We will do our utmost to earn 3 points." Those words came after the team had already lost all chances of reaching the FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026 final. A promise that no longer mattered to the standings, but meant everything to the pride of Vietnamese football fans. The context of this match is not as simple as outsiders see. Vietnam, a regional powerhouse, had just suffered what the coach called an "unfortunate defeat" to Thailand. That loss not only eliminated them from the final race but also opened a crisis of confidence among fans. Kim Sang Sik had to publicly apologize - a responsible act, but one that showed the pressure weighing on his shoulders. The match against Pakistan at Gelora Bung Karno Stadium, Jakarta, on October 2 therefore became a redemption mission. No more targets, no more points pressure, but a bigger goal: winning back trust from supporters. The team had video analysis sessions on the opponent - thorough preparation, according to Kim. But the biggest bottleneck lies in the elbow of goalkeeper Patrik Le Giang, who can only play if he passes a final assessment. Meanwhile, FPT Play confirmed live broadcast of the match, bringing the team's image to millions of Vietnamese hearts at home and abroad. People say football is a sport of youth, but I watch to see how fast I once was. And I know millions of other viewers will do the same, sitting before screens to find a part of their own youth. Three signals from the press conference made me think. First, the repetition from Kim Sang Sik: three times mentioning the goal of winning all 3 points, twice speaking of forgetting the defeat to Thailand. In 33 years of watching football, I have learned that such repetition is rarely meaningless. It shows the coaching staff is actively fighting complacency - the biggest invisible enemy of a strong team facing a weaker opponent. Psychology often matters more than tactics in such matches. A team that has just been eliminated and defeated can easily fall into emotional emptiness. They still go out, still run, still pass, but lack the spark. Kim's constant reminders are attempts to rekindle that fire. The second signal is transparency about injury. In elite football, information about the number one goalkeeper's fitness is always top secret. Kim publicly mentioning Le Giang's elbow suggests one of two things: either the situation is too serious to hide, or the coach is paving the way for a change. If Le Giang cannot play, Vietnam's defense will lose a good ball-playing goalkeeper - a key link in build-up play. That is a far greater tactical risk than losing a centre-back. I am old to chase the ball, but young enough to chase every move on screen. And watching Le Giang's previous performances, I understand why this decision matters so much. The third signal lies in the language of "maturing." Kim spoke of an opportunity to continue learning and maturing. This phrasing may sound like consolation, but is actually a strategy to lower expectations. It implies the squad may be rotated, giving chances to young players. If so, the Pakistan match becomes a test of squad depth. But this is a double-edged sword. An inexperienced lineup can easily struggle against a packed defense. And all beautiful plans about maturity will vanish if the result disappoints. My counter-intuitive view: the Pakistan match is not as easy as many think. When a weaker team faces a stronger team that has just lost its goal, they will defend in numbers, drop deep, and wait for mistakes. The stronger team, wounded, often becomes impatient. The most dangerous thing is that no signal suggests Vietnam has prepared a concrete plan to break down a deep block. No small combination drills, no long-range shooting plans, no designed set pieces. Everything we heard remains words. In football, words never score goals. Only intelligent runs, sharp passes and patience do. The match against Pakistan will not decide the group's fate, but it will decide the atmosphere of the entire journey ahead. Can a victory erase the sorrow of the Thailand defeat? I am not sure. But I know that football lies in the pause between two bounces of the ball, where the viewer's heart scores its own goal. And on the night of October 2, the hearts of millions of Vietnamese fans will beat as one, waiting for an unwritten poem. Does the team have the courage to write it? I am waiting for the answer on the Jakarta pitch, where there is no rain, but there may be tears of those who believe.