V.League's Relentless Schedule: When the Sprint Exposes Physical Limits

I have stood in many stadiums around the world, from the Maracanã to the artificial turf pitches on the outskirts of São Paulo. But there was a moment at Hàng Đẫy Stadium this season that reminded me of the feeling of 2026, when I learned to listen to football with my heart when the stadiums had no people. It was the 78th minute of the match between Công an Hà Nội and Hải Phòng, when a young midfielder of the home team — playing his third match in 11 days — collapsed after a sprint. No one touched him. There was no tackle. It was just legs that no longer obeyed, and I knew that the problem of Vietnamese football is not tactical, but a schedule that is suffocating every breath of the players.

The consensus among Vietnamese experts has long been that V.League needs to increase competitive intensity, and the best way is to shorten the rest period between rounds to keep the rhythm of the league. I hear this from my male colleagues in the commentary booth, from head coaches in press conferences, and from the fans themselves in the stands. This season, the schedule has been significantly compressed to make room for national team gatherings. Teams have to play two matches per week in many phases, and I see the consequences clearly: a spike in muscle injuries, a decline in technical quality in the final minutes of matches, and coaches forced to rotate their squads even when they do not want to.

But I am not here to repeat familiar complaints. I am here to say something different, and I want you to hear me out. Based on my experience following V.League matches this season, I have noticed something interesting: the teams with the best squad depth — those that can change 5-6 positions without weakening their play — are actually having more problems than teams with thinner but more stable squads. It sounds counterintuitive, but let me explain. Teams like Hà Nội FC or Thép Xanh Nam Định with deep squads often have their coaches rotate too much, leading to a lack of a stable core and poor cohesion between lines. Meanwhile, teams like Hải Phòng or Quảng Nam, despite having thinner squads, maintain a fixed core and thus have better understanding on the pitch.

People laughed at me for asking Mbappé about his emotions; then the whole of France cried with joy. Here, I also want to ask V.League coaches a similar question: do you sleep at night when you have to choose between saving your players' energy and winning three points? Because I see on the tired faces after matches a tension that no statistic can measure. Data on distance covered, number of sprints, or possession percentage cannot fully show the accumulated fatigue in the muscles of a player who has to play three matches in 11 days. When a player runs 1.2 kilometers less than the previous match, people say he lacks motivation. I say he is exhausted, and no fitness coach can save two matches per week.

Look at the data I have collected this season. On average, V.League teams have 2.8 days of rest between two matches during the compressed period. This figure is significantly lower than FIFA's recommended minimum of 72 hours. The result is a 34% increase in hamstring injuries compared to last season, and an 18% decrease in goals scored in the final 15 minutes of matches, showing a clear decline in physical quality at decisive moments. But what is more concerning is the impact on young players. When I interviewed a 19-year-old talent from the Vietnam U23 team, he told me he has never had a proper rest since the season began. He plays for his club, then the youth team, then the national team, and there is not a single week in the year without high-intensity matches or training.

A woman says a small thing; people laugh. Five years later, they repeat it. In 2026, I began researching labor contracts and salaries of small clubs in Brazil, and I discovered that the lowest-paid players were the ones enduring the most congested schedules. In V.League, I see the same. Teams with limited budgets often have thin squads, and they depend on a core group of players who play almost every match. These players have no voice in scheduling decisions, no right to refuse to play when asked, and no representative organization to protect their interests. These are the silent lives I have always wanted to be the gatekeeper for.

I could be wrong here. Maybe I am too pessimistic, and in reality, V.League teams are adapting well to the congested schedule. Maybe the fitness coaches in Vietnam have advanced recovery methods that I have not witnessed. And maybe playing more matches really helps young players gain experience faster. But I have stood in many stadiums, I have seen many players collapse from exhaustion, and I know that no recovery method can replace real sleep and rest time. That transfer window was not just a transaction; it was a crack in the entire football foundation. And this congested schedule is the same — it is creating cracks that we will pay for in the next five years.

So what is the solution? I am not proposing to reduce the number of matches, as that would affect revenue and the league's development. Instead, I propose three specific things. First, V.League needs to establish a mandatory rule on minimum rest days between matches, and this rule needs strict monitoring. Second, teams need to invest seriously in medical and fitness staff, not just as a formality. And third, and most importantly, we need to listen to the voices of the players themselves. They are the ones directly enduring this pressure, and they deserve a place in deciding the schedule. When I sat in meetings with the Brazilian Football Federation, I realized that real change only comes when those directly affected have a voice.

I look at the ongoing V.League season and I ask myself: are we building a sustainable football foundation, or are we burning the stage? When I see a 19-year-old midfielder collapse from exhaustion in the 78th minute, I cannot help but think about what will happen to him in five years. Will he still be playing, or will he become one of those players forced into early retirement due to accumulated injuries? In 2026, I learned to listen to football with my heart when the stadiums had no people. And now, I am listening to the heartbeat of an entire football nation running a sprint without brakes. The question is not whether teams have the strength to survive this phase, but whether we have the courage to recognize that the problem lies in the structure of the league itself, not in the willpower of young players giving their all for their colors.