Vietnamese Athletics After Its SEA Games Crown: The Depth Problem

On the track of a national athletics meet, the sound of spikes striking the surface was so clear that I could count every beat. The stands were empty. Wind swept through the vacant rows, and in a far corner, a group of provincial coaches sat in silence, taking notes. The stadium stood empty, but the heart of the sport was still beating.

I have spent many afternoons like that, sitting in stadiums without spectators, to see Vietnamese athletics as it truly is — not in the moment a medal is awarded, but in the warm-up laps at six in the morning, when there is only breathing and the sound of shoes.

And it was in those quiet afternoons that I understood one thing: Vietnam's SEA Games crown in athletics is real, but it is hiding a much larger question.

Context

In Southeast Asia, Vietnam is one of the leading athletics powers. At SEA Games 31, hosted at home in Hanoi in May 2026, the host nation topped the overall medal table, and athletics was one of the sports contributing the most gold medals. In many recent editions, Vietnamese athletes have consistently asserted their position in middle-distance running, steeplechase and long jump.

Nguyen Thi Oanh is the standout figure of this period. At SEA Games 31, she won gold in the 1500m, 3000m steeplechase and 5000m. Earlier, at the 2026 Asian Games in Jakarta, Bui Thi Thu Thao brought home long jump gold with a mark of 6.55m — one of the rare highlights for Vietnamese athletics at continental level.

Regional competition is also changing. Thailand, the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia are all investing heavily in athletics, especially in sprints and jumps. Vietnam's position in Southeast Asia is therefore no longer as comfortable as it once was.

But the picture does not stop there. The gap between its standing in Southeast Asia and its standing in Asia, and at the Olympics, remains very wide. That is the part of the story the medal table does not tell.

Analysis

To understand why, one must look at the structure of Vietnamese athletics rather than only at peak results.

Vietnamese athletics lives on a small group of elite athletes. In many events, the depth of the field is very thin: after a few familiar names, the gap in performance to the next athlete can reach several seconds or several tens of centimetres. That means the success of the whole system depends on very few individuals. When one of them is injured or declines, an entire event almost disappears from the international arena. A healthy athletics nation is measured by the number of athletes who can replace one another, not by the number of stars.

The competition density of Vietnamese athletes is also low compared with regional and continental standards. A high-level track and field athlete needs roughly 15 to 20 real competitions a year to accumulate experience and maintain a feel for the track. In Vietnam, many national-team members have only a few domestic meets and a few regional meets each year. That shortfall cannot be made up by training plans, however good those plans are. Competitive experience is accumulated, not taught.

The selection system of Vietnamese athletics still depends heavily on traditional centres and provinces. These places do their work very well, but resources are spread thin. Meanwhile, many young talents are in localities without conditions, without standard facilities, without specialised coaches. They train quietly and then disappear before they can be discovered. In places no one notices, I find what the whole world will one day talk about — but only when someone bothers to go and look.

What is notable is that the quality of coaching is not low. Vietnamese coaches, many of them former national-team athletes, understand very well the physical characteristics of Vietnamese people: small, quick, enduring. They know how to exploit those advantages in middle and long distances. But expertise without facilities, sports medicine and a sufficiently dense competition calendar struggles to produce a leap in class. Vietnam's athletics problem lies in the depth of its talent-development system, not in its talent.

Based on my experience following domestic athletics meets, the quiet period between major Games is when those shortfalls become most visible. In a regular season, when there is no major Games, the work of Vietnamese athletics happens much more quietly. That is when training centres operate, domestic meets are held, and new talents have a chance to emerge. But it is also in that quiet that the shortage of competitions and facilities is most clearly exposed. An athlete without a meet to compete in is like a student without an exam to measure themselves against.

Looking at neighbouring countries, many have built year-round competition systems and specialised training centres for each event group. Vietnamese athletics still has to handle many tasks at once with more limited resources.

A concrete example. In the women's long jump, after Bui Thi Thu Thao's 6.55m at the 2026 Asian Games, Vietnamese athletics has still not produced a successor who regularly clears 6.30m. That gap of nearly 30 centimetres sounds small, but in athletics it is the line between a place in a continental final and a place that ends in qualifying. One outstanding individual cannot replace a generation.

Similarly, in the middle-distance events, the marks of Vietnamese athletes are often enough to win Southeast Asia but still a considerable distance from Olympic standards or continental semi-finals. This gap is not a matter of one season; it is the result of many years of incomplete investment.

The contrarian angle

Here I want to say plainly something that the atmosphere of medal celebrations often makes people overlook.

Vietnamese athletics is being judged by SEA Games medals, while the true measure of an athletics nation is depth and sustainability. A gold medal at regional level is very precious, but if it comes from one outstanding individual while there is a void behind, then it is a sign of a system that is not yet healthy. With no cheering, I hear my own applause more clearly — and sometimes that applause reminds me how many people gave up behind a single champion.

I understand why the media and fans focus on the stars. Stars bring emotion, bring glory, bring headlines. But that very focus creates a blind spot: we count medals instead of counting the athletes capable of competing at continental level. We praise the summit while rarely asking about the base of the pyramid.

There is one more paradox. The more a system depends on a few stars, the greater the pressure on them, and that loop makes it even harder for the system to produce new people. An athlete must carry national results, serve as a media image, and face a dense competition calendar — while the next generation is not ready. That is how a sport makes things difficult for itself.

I once heard a coach say that what worried him most was not the opponent, but that his students grew up in an environment lacking internal competition. Without strong enough domestic rivals, athletes struggle to improve. And without enough athletes, there are no rivals.

Reflection

Vietnamese athletics does not lack people with enough talent and enough courage. The problem lies in turning those people into a system, rather than isolated stars.

If I could ask for one thing, I would ask for more tracks — more competitions, more facilities in the provinces, more international competition slots for the young. Because stars are not born in finals, but in matches no one watches. And in places no one notices, Vietnamese athletics is keeping its rough gems.

What is worth waiting for is not the number of gold medals Vietnam will win at the next SEA Games, but how many new names will be strong enough to step onto the continental stage after that glory.