World Cup 2026 and the lessons from the dressing room: What Vietnamese women's football is losing after the spotlight fades

I traveled to New Zealand in July 2026, not as an ordinary spectator at the Women's World Cup, but to listen to the stories from the dressing room of the Vietnamese women's national team. As the team left the pitch after the Netherlands match in Hamilton, I stood in the corridor leading to the changing room. Cries echoed, but amid the sobs, I heard one phrase clearly: "We must never forget this feeling." That phrase was not about defeat, but about a promise to themselves. Three matches, zero goals, 12 conceded. Those numbers could easily be filed under "failure." But if we only look at the scorelines, we miss what matters most: how the Vietnamese women's team rose after each loss and confronted the harsh truth of elite football. Vietnam's journey to the World Cup is a modern fairy tale. In the 2026 Asian Cup qualifiers, coach Mai Duc Chung's side overcame Thailand in a playoff with a 2-1 victory in stoppage time, sealing a spot in India. At the Asian Cup, they reached the semifinals – a miracle for Southeast Asian women's football. When the draw placed Vietnam in a group with the USA, the Netherlands, and Portugal, no one expected them to make a mark. But they made the world notice, if only for a moment. In the opening match against the defending champions USA, played at Eden Park in Auckland before over 40,000 fans, Vietnam defended deep, allowing 76% possession and 27 shots. Goalkeeper Tran Thi Kim Thanh became a wall with 9 saves, including a penalty stop from Alex Morgan in the 42nd minute. That moment stunned the footballing world – a goalkeeper from a developing football nation had beaten one of the best strikers in history. Kim Thanh is not a superhero. She spent three months before the tournament studying Morgan's penalties, reviewing hundreds of videos, noting angles, speed, and even how Morgan breathed before striking. Against Portugal, Vietnam showed clear improvement. They had 35% possession, 2 shots on target, and lost narrowly 0-2. Small combinations in midfield from Nguyen Thi Thanh Nha and Thai Thi Thao created chances, but they lacked luck and finishing precision. In the Netherlands match, the physical gap was exposed. After a goalless first half, the Dutch pressed hard and scored 7 in the second half. Yet even in heavy defeat, the Vietnamese players fought until the end, with Kim Thanh making 6 more saves. But what stayed with me was not the on-pitch numbers. It was what the players told me in private conversations after the tournament – stories about salaries, sponsorship contracts, and how many players still need second jobs to fund their passion. In the 18 months following the World Cup, I closely followed the players returning to the domestic league. And I noticed a paradox: the greatest achievement in the history of Vietnamese women's football has not created fundamental change in their lives. The salary of a top female player remains about 15-20 million VND per month, less than half the minimum wage of a male player in the second division. Many clubs still pay their own travel, food, and medical costs. One player shared that after the World Cup, she still couldn't afford a new phone, while male national teammates had received billion-VND bonuses for winning the SEA Games. I visited the women's team dressing room during a training session at the Vietnam Youth Football Training Center, and I saw what no camera captured: old wooden lockers with peeling paint; each player must buy her own athletic tape, and even simple recovery tools like foam rollers are self-funded. Meanwhile, the men's team just one floor above has a sauna, central air conditioning, and a dedicated physiotherapy staff. The difference is not in talent or dedication, but in how we value women's sport. I remember the words of captain Huynh Nhu, who retired in 2026 after 18 years of playing: "I never dared to think I would become rich from football. I only fear that later, looking back, I didn't live fully with my passion." She said that in a small café in Ho Chi Minh City, after her farewell ceremony. Many believe the 2026 World Cup was a springboard for Vietnamese women's football to take off. But I have a contrarian view: it could become a "deception" if we don't face the numbers directly. Sponsors eagerly poured money right after the World Cup, but most were short-term campaigns. Two years on, many billboards featuring the women's team have been removed. One enterprise that donated 5 billion VND has shifted investment to men's youth football for "immediate media effect." The truth is that Vietnamese women's football is being sustained by the passion of a generation that has given everything. But that generation is aging. After the World Cup, we still don't have a systematic youth training academy for girls built from development funds. The women's league has only 8 teams, while the men's has over 20. Youth girls' tournaments at U16 and U19 lack sponsors, and in some years the finals were canceled due to budget shortages. So, in the end, what is the biggest lesson from the 2026 World Cup? I argue it is not that we need more 0-7 losses to grow, but that we must answer the question: how sustainably do we want women's football to develop? If every World Cup is just a rare "miracle," can we be confident Vietnam will be there in four years? I see young girls training in the summer heat at development centers, and I wonder: in ten years, when they come of age, will they still have to buy their own tape or sell goods online to make ends meet, or will we dare to invest from today? The World Cup opened a door. But that door is beginning to close. The voice from the dressing room still echoes: "Don't forget this feeling." But that feeling must be transformed into concrete action – not empty promises, not transient media campaigns. Those girls showed the world they deserve to stand on the biggest stage. Now it's time for us – football executives, managers, businesses – to answer: are we ready to let them stand there again, and go even further?