Vietnamese Golf: When 'Absurdity' Becomes a Development Strategy

At Long Bien golf course, 6 AM on a Tuesday, I stood at hole 18 watching a group of young golfers finish their round. They weren't professionals, had no private coaches, just kids aged 14-15 who taught themselves during after-school afternoons. But what caught my attention wasn't their technique, but how they discussed strategy: 'This hole we should lay up, not try to reach the green in 2,' one said. I've heard that phrase somewhere before. Right, in a meeting room at a US golf academy, where coaches teach students to read the course with data, not feelings. But here, in the middle of Hanoi, these kids discovered it on their own without any textbook. That was the moment I realized: Vietnamese golf is developing in a completely different way from what I learned in 10 years of observation. Context: Over the past 5 years, the number of golf courses in Vietnam increased from 30 to over 80, but the number of professional golfers with international rankings can still be counted on one hand. Domestic tournaments like Vietnam Masters, Vietnam Open attract hundreds of amateur golfers, but their international achievements remain modest. Many believe the problem lies in infrastructure, costs, or the lack of good coaches. But I see something else: we are applying Western development models to a completely different environment, and this creates a mismatch. The core of the issue lies in how we define 'golf development.' In the US or Europe, golf develops from the bottom up: academy systems, certified coaches, club-level tournaments, then professional. In Vietnam, we go from the top down: investing in a few talented golfers, sending them to compete internationally, hoping they bring back achievements to inspire. But I've witnessed too many young talents burned out by early performance pressure, lacking a support system around them. My fall in 2026 on the 400m track taught me: talent without a support system is just a short-lived explosion. Look at the data. According to a survey by the Vietnam Golf Association (VGA), there are about 50,000 regular amateur golfers, but only 12 male and 5 female professional golfers with OWGR rankings. The conversion rate from amateur to professional is only about 0.03%. Meanwhile, in Thailand, a country with similar economic conditions, this rate is 0.15% - 5 times higher. The difference isn't talent, but the system. Thailand has over 200 golf courses, but more importantly, they have a network of community academies where children from poor provinces can access golf at low cost. They have school-level and provincial tournaments, creating a clear pathway. In Vietnam, we have luxurious golf academies in big cities, but most children never get a chance to touch a golf club. The absurdity here is: we spend a lot of money sending a few golfers to compete internationally, when we should spend that money building a basic training system. I saw a 17-year-old golfer fully sponsored to compete in the US for 2 years, but when he returned, he had no place to compete regularly in Vietnam, no coach qualified enough to continue developing his technique. He became better, but more lonely. That's a paradox: we create solitary stars, then blame them for not shining. I remember the summer of 2026, when I livestreamed commentary of old matches because no tournaments were happening. I learned that: connection is what creates lasting value, not solitary perfection. Vietnamese golf needs an ecosystem, not just a few stars. It needs club-level tournaments where amateur golfers can compete regularly, learn to handle pressure, build confidence. It needs well-trained coaches, not just in technique but also in sports psychology. It needs links between golf courses, schools, and businesses to create a support network. My counter-intuitive view: we should not focus on creating champions, but on creating a golf culture. When there's culture, champions will naturally emerge. Look at Vietnamese football: we don't have exceptional players like Messi or Ronaldo, but we have a united team, a functioning youth training system, and passionate fan support. The result is consecutive successes at the regional level. Golf needs to learn this. Build from the roots, accept that success will come slower but more sustainably. I believed in the textbook for 5 years – World Cup 2026 shattered it all. I used to think that to develop golf, we needed many golf courses, lots of money, many foreign coaches. But watching those kids at Long Bien figure things out themselves, I realized: the most important thing isn't infrastructure, but passion and connection. When there's passion, people find ways to learn. When there's connection, people never feel alone on their journey. Every number has the potential to lie; my job is to catch it. The figure of 50,000 amateur golfers sounds impressive, but looking closely, most are weekend players with no competitive ambition. The figure of 12 professional golfers sounds small, but it accurately reflects reality: we don't have a clear pathway to move players from amateur to professional. And that's the real problem. The question is: what do we want Vietnamese golf to become in the next 10 years? A country with a few golfers competing in Asian events, or a country with a large young generation of golfers ready to compete internationally? I believe the answer lies in building systems, not creating solitary stars. And I believe that if we do it right, stars will naturally appear, like flowers blooming in a well-tended field. The empty stadium in summer 2026 taught me to listen to the match with my heartbeat, not with sound. Similarly, I believe Vietnamese golf needs to listen to its own pulse, rather than trying to imitate others. We have our own characteristics: patience, meticulousness, a spirit of overcoming adversity. These traits, if properly nurtured, will create a generation of golfers not only skilled in technique but also strong in spirit. From the starting line of failure to the commentary booth: every scar is a map. I've failed on the track, I've been fired for thinking differently, I've livestreamed to 3 viewers. But all those experiences taught me: the road to success is never straight. It's full of twists and unexpected turns. And Vietnamese golf is the same. We're at an important crossroads. We can choose to follow others' paths, or we can draw our own path, based on what we truly have and truly need. I don't have a perfect answer. But I know that those kids at Long Bien don't need a million-dollar academy. They need a place to play, someone to guide them, and a community to share with. If we build that, I believe Vietnamese golf will not only have champions, but will have a true golf culture. And that's the most valuable victory.