With Hai Long and Hoang Hen, Hanoi FC still suffer shock 1-4 defeat, remain winless in V-League 2026-2027

At Hang Day Stadium, on a September afternoon, the final whistle blew and no one could believe their ears. Standing in the press area, I looked up at the electronic scoreboard: Hanoi 1-4 SLNA. Just a minute earlier, the familiar stands were loud, but now only a heavy silence remained — the kind of silence typical of a collapse. No one shouted, no one jeered; only the sound of SLNA players' studs crunching on the turf as they walked around the pitch thanking the fans. That sound, for me, was more haunting than the roar of a derby.

The pre-match context, looking at the team sheets, made Hanoi FC's defeat even more puzzling. They had Nguyen Hai Long — one of the most gifted attacking midfielders in Vietnamese football today; they had Hoang Hen — one of the highest-valued domestic strikers on the transfer market; they had foreign players who had played in the Premier League like Cyrus Christie. Meanwhile, SLNA fielded a young squad, missing several key players, led by a new coach. Yet after 90 minutes, the score reflected a completely different reality: the young team controlled the game, while the experienced team left the pitch empty-handed.

Hanoi FC's first two goals conceded exposed a recurring tactical flaw, not an accident. In the 35th minute, Bui Thanh Duc delivered a cross from the right, the delivery was clean, and Bruno Paraiba rose to head the ball past Quan Van Chuan. No Hanoi FC defender tracked the Brazilian striker. In the 53rd minute, Phan Ba Quyen crossed from the left, and Cyrus Christie — a former defender playing for a big club — in an attempt to clear, put the ball into his own net. Two goals conceded, two aerial situations, two simple crosses. This is not a problem of individual players but a problem of the entire defensive system. The defensive line pushed high, full-backs pressed too far from goal, creating vast spaces behind. SLNA only needed one long pass, one accurate cross to put the ball into the box.

But the story doesn't only lie in the defense. In attack, Hanoi FC's front line, with its two most prominent names Hai Long and Hoang Hen, was almost paralyzed. They had plenty of possession, passed sideways, passed backward, but no combination created a truly dangerous shot. The players wearing national team jerseys repeatedly asked for the ball in familiar positions, but the ball never came. I saw the frustration in every step Hai Long took — he looked at his teammates, looked at the coach, then shook his head. If a top-class creative midfielder cannot produce a decisive pass, the problem lies in the build-up structure, not in whether he has class.

Most notably, for me, were coach Harry Kewell's substitutions at halftime. He pulled veteran center-back Nguyen Thanh Chung off, replaced by a young center-back — a like-for-like positional change when the score was 0-1. At the same time, he took off foreign forward Andrew Jung, replaced by veteran Nguyen Van Quyet. This left me wondering: what was his tactical intent? If he wanted to attack and find an equalizer, why replace an experienced center-back with a young one? If he wanted to strengthen the attack, could a 34-year-old coming on change the game while the team was in disarray? These seemed like reactive changes, lacking a clear tactical message, lacking a concrete plan to turn the tide.

Then, the collapse unfolded as an inevitable consequence. Hanoi FC pushed high searching for a goal, creating vast spaces behind, and SLNA was waiting for exactly that. In the 86th minute, in a quick counter-attack, Nguyen Quang Vinh — Vietnam U23 international — received the ball, accelerated, and finished cleanly with a low shot into the far corner. In the 90th minute, the same player curled a shot from outside the box, the ball bending into the top corner, giving the Hanoi FC goalkeeper no chance. 1-4. The match ended. I looked at my watch, then again at the scoreboard to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

What I want to say here is not to criticize Hanoi FC, because any team can suffer a heavy defeat. What I want to emphasize is that these consecutive defeats are repeating a pattern, and that pattern is a structural problem. In the first round, Hanoi FC lost to Cong An TP.HCM 1-3. In the second round, the team lost to SLNA 1-4. Two matches, 7 goals conceded, 2 scored, a -5 goal difference, bottom of the table. This is not a streak of bad luck but the result of an incomplete squad, lacking cohesion between the lines, without a settled starting XI.

In the context of a major tournament, when a team expected to be a title contender falls into crisis, the pressure on coach Harry Kewell is enormous. The press has begun to question his future, fans have begun to criticize the players. This creates a dangerous psychological spiral: players fear making mistakes, playing too cautiously, lacking creativity; the coach is doubted, losing the necessary support to build a team. If this spiral isn't controlled soon, it can swallow everything, including the biggest talents.

Another perspective worth reflecting on is the contrast between Hanoi FC's big-spending model and SLNA's sustainable development model. While Hanoi FC recruits Premier League-experienced foreigners and national team players, SLNA — a club with a top youth academy tradition — fielded a young lineup, many players aged 20-21, yet played with more cohesion and effectiveness. Nguyen Quang Vinh, who scored two goals in this match, is a product of the SLNA academy, just 21 years old. He represents the opposite of expensive signings, proof that money cannot buy chemistry, cannot buy understanding on the pitch. Could this be a signal that Vietnamese football is witnessing a redistribution of power, as young clubs with strong academies close the gap with wealthy clubs? I think this is a major question for the entire domestic football system.

Looking ahead, Hanoi FC's next match will become a de facto decisive one. If they suffer a third consecutive defeat, the likelihood of the club's leadership deciding to change the coach is very high. But would changing the coach be the solution? The problem doesn't lie with a single individual, but with the entire operating system — from recruitment, tactical development, to building a playing identity. A team with many stars but without a unified playing philosophy is like an orchestra of soloists without a conductor — each is talented, but none play together.

I remember a saying from a scout friend: "An own goal is football's way of reminding us that legends don't choose who to sacrifice themselves to." Cyrus Christie, a player who once played in the Premier League, in an attempt to clear the ball, put it into his own net, becoming the "scapegoat" in a match where his teammates fared no better. People will remember that own goal, but I want to write about him as a human being trying to integrate, trying to regain form, trying to prove his worth in a new environment. No one wants to make mistakes, but in a team crisis, individual errors are often magnified many times over.

The match lacked fervent fans in the stands but was not lacking sound; there were footsteps, the coach's shouts, and the sound of frightened hearts. After the match, as I left the stadium, I heard an elderly fan tell his friend: "Hanoi is lost." I don't know if he meant the team or his own feeling, but that sentence haunted me all evening. A community of 222 million football-loving hearts, where fan belief is an invaluable asset, is watching its richest club drown in crisis. The number 222 million doesn't appear on balance sheets; it lives in the hearts of millions. And when that heart breaks, no contract can mend it.

As a sports writer who has followed hundreds of matches over decades, I want to say: these defeats do not stem from a lack of talent. They have all the ingredients to cook a delicious dish — good players, a renowned coach, strong financial resources. The problem lies in the recipe, in how they combine the ingredients. When they find a unified playing philosophy, a reasonable squad structure, a suitable coaching method, then those stars will truly shine. If not, they will forever remain a collection of disjointed talents, unable to form a team.

Football is a game of moments, but it is also a game of solid structures. Hanoi FC lacks that solidity. The question now is not whether they have talent, but whether they have the character and patience to overcome this difficult period, to rebuild a structure that can withstand pressure and deliver long-term success. For me, the answer will lie in the coming matches, in how they face adversity — because in football, like in life, people are judged not by the fall, but by how they rise.

Ly Hao — Sports Editor, Jakarta, September 2026