Kim Sang Sik's Journey Through Adversity: Behind the Scenes of Vietnam's AFF Cup 2026 Preparation

Kim Sang Sik's Journey Through Adversity: Behind the Scenes of Vietnam's AFF Cup 2026 Preparation When the news that Kim Sang Sik, head coach of the Vietnam national team, had to return to South Korea to handle his father's funeral was announced on the afternoon of September 15, 2026, most communication departments at the Vietnam Football Federation fell silent for the first few hours. There was no urgent press release, no perfunctory statement. There was only a void — the void of a man who had just lost the only thing in life that cannot be replaced. That was the moment when I, after 43 years of following football from Madrid to Nha Trang, realized this was not just ordinary sports news. This was a test of how an organization handles the personal adversity of a key figure, and how it exposes the gap between professional identity and human identity. The context for this story is quite simple: Kim Sang Sik, 52, was appointed to lead the Vietnam national team from May 2026, succeeding Philippe Troussier. His father, 84, had passed away after a long battle with illness. Kim was immediately granted leave, expected to be absent for about a week to complete funeral rites according to Korean customs. The Vietnam Football Federation (VFF) issued an official statement: VFF President personally encouraged Coach Kim to rest and not rush back. The message was brief but meaningful: "We hope Coach Kim and his family can find the strength to get through this immense loss." In the context of the AFF Cup 2026 starting September 24, that statement was not just courtesy — it was a declaration of how this organization defines human value over results. Having witnessed countless coaches fired for poor results after just a few matches over 43 years, I find the VFF's attitude worth acknowledging. But precisely because of that, I am compelled to ask uncomfortable questions: How much does a week's absence really impact tournament preparation? And will today's sympathy protect Kim when results don't meet expectations? The pitch has no gender, but the eyes watching foreign coaches in Vietnam always have double standards. When predecessor Park Hang Seo — the beloved one — led the team, every failure was explained by objective circumstances. When Philippe Troussier sat in the hot seat, every mistake was amplified into evidence of incompetence. With Kim Sang Sik, the question is not whether he's good enough, but whether he's lucky enough for everything to go according to plan. And sad family news is one of those things no one can control. Let me analyze the current situation in more detail. Kim Sang Sik has been leading Vietnam's U23 and senior national teams since May 2026, achieving good results at regional and continental competitions. Under his leadership, Vietnam U23 has made notable progress in building a balanced attacking style, while the senior team has maintained the stability needed for the AFF Cup 2026 campaign. Vietnam is in Group A alongside Thailand, Philippines, and Pakistan — a draw assessed as favorable for Kim Sang Sik's side. Thailand is the main rival for a semi-final spot, while Philippines and Pakistan are ranked as weaker opponents. However, the path to the tournament is becoming slightly bumpier than originally planned. Kim Sang Sik left Vietnam on September 15, leaving the team in the final preparation sprint. Based on my calculations, he will return around September 22-23 — only one or two days before Vietnam's first group match kicks off. This is an extremely short time to complete final tactical preparations, especially when the main opponent is Thailand — a team with disciplined play and extensive experience at regional tournaments. Throughout 43 years of following football, I have seen many cases of coaches absent for personal reasons. Some returned with iron resolve, turning pain into fuel for victory. Some carried emotional burdens for months, affecting their decision-making at crucial moments. What I know for certain is: no one can predict how a person will handle the pain of loss. And precisely because of this, judging Kim Sang Sik solely through the lens of results in the coming weeks is unjust. On the tactical side, the biggest question is: Who will run training sessions during Kim's absence? The article doesn't mention who will temporarily replace him, but according to international standards, national team coaching staffs usually have assistants capable enough to maintain daily training programs. The concerning part isn't who leads the sessions, but whether those sessions will be of sufficient quality to prepare for a regional tournament. Modern football, especially at the national team level, relies heavily on the head coach's presence for conveying philosophy, adjusting small details, and creating the right collective atmosphere. A week without the head coach may not affect players' fitness or technique, but it certainly impacts tactical cohesion. In national team football, where players come from different clubs and have only a few days of camp before tournaments, every training session carries dual value: both physical training and building a common language on the pitch. When the chief architect is absent, the construction may not collapse, but the finest details may be overlooked. On the personnel front, I am particularly focused on the player list Kim Sang Sik has called up for AFF Cup 2026. Vietnam currently has a generation of promising young players, many of whom were promoted from U23 to the senior team under his guidance. The connection between these two squads is one of the highlights of his team-building work. However, when the coach is absent, these relationships may be temporarily disrupted. Players, especially young ones, tend to rely on the coach's presence to feel stability. When that person is not there, part of that stability disappears too. Looking at the broader context, I realize that Kim Sang Sik's story reflects a familiar paradox in football: we demand coaches be perfect professionally, but forget they are also ordinary people with full emotional capacities. When a coach loses a match, we call it "weak mentality." When a coach loses a family member, we call it "special circumstances." This distinction shows football is not yet ready to treat coaches as complete human beings — only as replaceable functions. Regarding finances and the transfer market, the article doesn't mention Kim Sang Sik's contract or compensation. However, I know that the Vietnam national team head coach position always comes with dual pressure: on-field results and the expectations of millions of fans. Kim Sang Sik is no exception. His contract is reportedly valid through end of 2026 or longer, depending on results at major tournaments. AFF Cup 2026 is one of the key metrics for the VFF to evaluate his work. This is where I need to clarify my perspective: I don't believe one week's absence will determine Vietnam's success or failure at AFF Cup. But I do believe how the team overcomes this period will reveal much about their collective character. A truly strong team doesn't just depend on a good coach — it also depends on the ability to self-operate when circumstances are unfavorable. This is an unplanned test, but an extremely important one. Regarding media and public opinion, I've noticed Vietnamese media's reaction to Kim's return home was quite mature. No sensational headlines, no comments demanding he be present regardless of circumstances. This is significantly different from some other football markets, where personal news about coaches is often turned into entertainment merchandise. However, today's sympathy may disappear very quickly if Vietnam doesn't achieve expected results at AFF Cup. In football, short-term memory always wins over long-term memory. Now, let me address a perspective few in Vietnamese football dare to speak: we are placing too many expectations on the shoulders of a foreign coach, while the Vietnamese football system itself still has many issues to resolve. Kim Sang Sik may be a good coach, but he cannot alone change the youth development structure, upgrade the V-League, or create a healthy competitive environment for players. He can optimize the current squad, convey tactical philosophy, and create team spirit — but those are things any coach could do if given enough time and resources. The uncomfortable truth is: Vietnamese football is in a transition phase, where the golden generation (2026-2026) is gradually entering the final stages of their careers, and the next generation hasn't truly established themselves. Kim Sang Sik is not a savior — he is a manager of this transition process as smoothly as possible. And that, in the current context, is difficult enough without any additional adverse variables. Returning to the immediate situation, I've monitored how the VFF handled this and noticed something noteworthy: their statement wasn't just courtesy, but also a strategic declaration. In today's football world, where football federations are frequently criticized for treating coaches as dismissible employees at any time, the VFF's attitude shows they understand that mutual commitment and respect are the foundation for effective working relationships. This is a lesson many sports organizations could learn from. However, I also need to ask: Will the VFF's sympathy last until matches actually begin? If Vietnam loses the opening match to Philippines — a scenario entirely possible if the team lacks optimal preparation — will today's encouraging words be remembered, or will they be replaced by questions about personnel decisions and tactics? I don't have the answer, but I know that in football, emotion always gives way to results. Regarding head-to-head history, Vietnam has performed well against Philippines and Pakistan at regional tournaments. The match against Thailand is the real test. The team coached by HLV Mano Polking — also a foreigner like Kim Sang Sik — has shown consistent form at recent tournaments and is considered a heavy favorite for the championship. This is the match where Kim Sang Sik's tactical preparation will be exposed under the brightest regional spotlight. One detail I'm particularly interested in is how Kim Sang Sik will allocate his time upon returning to Vietnam. With only one or two days before the first match, he will have to decide: focus on rebuilding team spirit, or pour all energy into tactical details? This is the kind of decision only the head coach can make, and it will shape how the team enters the tournament. On the psychological side, I've observed an interesting phenomenon throughout my career following football: coaches typically have two ways of reacting to personal adversity. Some find comfort in work, turning it into a temporary but effective painkiller. Others carry emotional burdens onto the pitch, leading to inaccurate decisions at crucial moments. Which group does Kim Sang Sik belong to? I don't know, and perhaps he doesn't know either. Now, let me address an element that analyses often overlook: the relationship between Kim Sang Sik and the players. Throughout his tenure leading U23 and the senior national team, he has built a certain level of trust with the young players. Many of them were given opportunities to debut for the senior team, and they are grateful for it. During his absence, will the players demonstrate maturity by maintaining professional standards on their own? Or will they wait for guidance from the coaching staff? The answer will reveal much about the quality of the environment Kim Sang Sik has created. Regarding opponents, Thailand is not just a strong team — they are a system. With the heavily invested Thai League, the Thailand national team has advantages in squad depth and international experience. HLV Mano Polking, despite being German, has perfectly adapted to Thai football and built a team with balanced play between defensive counter-attacks and ball possession. This is an opponent Vietnam cannot underestimate, regardless of the coach's circumstances. I also want to emphasize that this article is not intended to add pressure on Kim Sang Sik or the Vietnam team. My goal is to provide a multi-dimensional perspective, based on data and real observations, so readers can better understand what's happening behind the scenes. In a football market increasingly dominated by momentary emotions and extreme statements, I believe maintaining sobriety and reason is more necessary than ever. Looking ahead, I see several possible scenarios. Best case: Kim Sang Sik returns with stronger spirit, turning pain into motivation, and leads Vietnam deep into the tournament. This is the story every fan wants to hear. Average case: Vietnam achieves basic goals (advancing from group stage), but doesn't make a strong impression. Worst case: the team doesn't meet expectations, and all of Kim Sang Sik's previous successes are forgotten. In all three scenarios, what I hope for is fairness in evaluation. One week's absence should not define a coach's entire success or failure. And one tournament should not determine the fate of a long-term project. But I also know that in football, fairness is a luxury. The 12th man wall collapsed in matches without spectators, and I studied that phenomenon throughout the pandemic season. But there is another wall I've only recently recognized: the wall between the personal life and work of a football coach. In an age when everything is publicized and analyzed, this boundary is gradually eroding. And when it collapses, both the coach and the organization must face questions no one dared to ask before. Finally, I want to say to those reading this article: follow the Vietnam team with openness and understanding. Kim Sang Sik is not a winning machine — he is a person trying his best under unexpected circumstances. And the Vietnam national team is not a perfect machine — they are a collective in the process of building and growing. Patience and sympathy, at least during this period, will bring more value than sharp criticisms. As for Kim Sang Sik, I believe he will return. Not because he owes anyone a victory, but because football has become part of his blood. And sometimes, in the darkest moments, work itself is what helps us remember that life continues — even when we don't want it to. We watch the World Cup to see football, but I watch to examine the lens people wear when looking at others' adversities. And that lens, in this case, is showing an imperfect picture but one worth observing.