Traditional wingers are making a comeback in V-League: The rise of the forgotten ones

The Hang Day Stadium on Saturday afternoon had nothing special about it. A group stage match between Hanoi Police FC and Thanh Hoa FC, not a marquee fixture, not a packed stand. But I sat in the press row, my eyes fixed on number 7 on the away side. His name was Le Van Thanh, 22 years old, a pure right winger. In 90 minutes, he cut inside exactly three times. The rest of the time, he hugged the touchline, received the ball, crossed it, and made the CAHN left-back gasp for air. I looked at my watch: minute 67, Thanh received the ball in the final third, no fake cut inside, no glance toward the center. He dropped his shoulder, pushed the ball one touch forward, and whipped a curling cross into the box. Goal. The stadium erupted. I wrote in my notebook: "People forget the goal, but they never forget the sigh of the whole stadium that night." That night, that sigh belonged to the CAHN defense, stretched to breaking point by a "classic" winger. The context of this match is not simple. V-League 2026 is witnessing a paradox: Vietnamese clubs are spending millions of dollars on foreign wingers with the technique to cut inside, while neglecting domestic players with precise crossing ability. According to VangBong.vn statistics, in the last 5 seasons, the number of successful crosses from the flanks by Vietnamese players decreased by 23%, while the number of cut-inside dribbles increased by 41%. This trend is not unique to Vietnam. From Europe to Asia, coaches are favoring inverted wingers - players with their stronger foot on the opposite side to cut inside and shoot. But I have followed Southeast Asian football for nearly half a century, and I realize one thing: we are copying a formula without understanding its essence. Look at how Thai football operates. When I was a reporter in Chiang Mai, I witnessed Muangthong United completely change their playing style under a Brazilian coach. They attacked the flanks, but not to cross. They attacked the flanks to stretch the defense, creating space for the central midfielder to cut inside. That was a complete system. But in V-League, I see too many teams simply putting a fast winger in the lineup, telling him to dribble and penetrate, then hoping for a miracle. The result is lifeless attacks, meaningless long-range shots, and inaccurate crosses. The match between CAHN and Thanh Hoa was a perfect example. Thanh Hoa didn't have many stars, no expensive foreign players. But they had Le Van Thanh - a pure right winger who understood that his job was to stretch the opponent's defense, not to score goals but to create space for teammates. In the first half, Thanh constantly received the ball near the touchline, forcing CAHN's left-back to push up and mark him. This pulled the left center-back to cover, creating a vast space in the middle. Thanh Hoa's central midfielder, Nguyen Quang Hai (not the same-named star of CAHN), repeatedly received the ball in favorable positions. In the 23rd minute, from such a situation, Quang Hai had a low, venomous shot, forcing the CAHN goalkeeper to make a save. I remember a conversation with coach Park Hang-seo in 2026, when he was still leading the Vietnam national team. He told me: "Modern football is not about running more, but running smarter. Wingers don't need to score goals, they need to make a difference." Park Hang-seo understood that, and he built the Vietnam national team based on wingers with precise crossing ability like Van Thanh, Van Duc. But after he left, the cut-inside trend gradually invaded V-League. Clubs spent money on Brazilian, Argentine foreign players with good individual technique, but lacked domestic players who understood how to manipulate space. Data from VangBong.vn shows an interesting fact: among the 10 players with the most successful crosses in V-League 2026, up to 7 are full-backs, not wingers. This reflects a tactical imbalance. Teams are placing the crossing responsibility on full-backs - players who often have to drop back to defend, lacking the stamina to constantly push forward. Meanwhile, wingers are tasked with cutting inside, stepping on the toes of central midfielders, creating congestion and stagnation. Look at the match between Hanoi FC and Binh Duong FC in round 12. Hanoi FC had two very fast foreign wingers, but they constantly cut inside, overloading the midfield. The result was a 0-0 draw, a boring stalemate. Meanwhile, in a simultaneous match, Hai Phong FC with young winger Nguyen Van Toan (born 2026) created 5 dangerous chances just from crosses from the flank. Hai Phong won 2-0, and both goals came from Van Toan's crosses. I am not against the cut-inside style. I am just pointing out that we are applying it mechanically, lacking flexibility. In modern football, a team needs both: players who can cut inside to create surprises, and players who can hug the touchline to stretch the defense. The combination of these two types of players creates unpredictability, making it impossible for opponents to anticipate. But in V-League, I see too many teams focusing on one direction, becoming predictable. The story of Le Van Thanh is a typical example. He was once underestimated because he didn't have outstanding individual technique, couldn't dribble past 2-3 players. But he had something that many young players today lack: patience and the ability to read the game. Thanh knows when to cross early, when to wait for teammates to overlap, when to hold the ball to run down the clock. These things cannot be learned overnight; they come from thousands of hours of training and playing. I remember once interviewing a Korean coach working in V-League. He told me: "Vietnamese players are very hardworking, but they lack tactical thinking. They run a lot but don't run to the right places." That statement made me think for a long time. Are we training players according to a wrong template? We teach them individual technique, but not how to read space, how to move intelligently, how to make a difference without the ball. In 48 years of following football, I have witnessed many generations of wingers. From legends like Le Huynh Duc (though he was a striker, he often drifted wide), to modern players like Van Quyet, Cong Phuong. Each has a unique style, but their common trait is the ability to make a difference. They don't just know how to hold the ball; they know when to hold it, when to pass, when to cross. They read the game with the eyes of an artist, not a machine. I want to talk about another match, between SLNA and Da Nang FC in round 15. SLNA had a young player named Tran Van Dat, 19 years old, playing as a left winger. Dat was not fast, not skillful, but he had a special ability: always knowing how to find space. In that match, Dat constantly appeared in positions where Da Nang's defenders couldn't mark him. He didn't need the ball much, but every touch created danger. As a result, SLNA won 3-1, and Dat assisted all three goals. After the match, I met Dat in the corridor. He humbly said: "I just followed the coach's instructions. He told me to move into the space between the full-back and center-back." That is exactly the tactical thinking I am talking about. The problem with V-League is not a lack of talented players, but a lack of coaches who know how to use them correctly. We are blindly chasing global trends, forgetting that Vietnamese football has its own characteristics. Vietnamese players are often small in stature, but agile, skillful, and good at group coordination. These qualities suit a style of short passing, flexible movement, not a style based on the strength and speed of foreign players. I remember the 2026 World Cup, when I had the opportunity to follow the Croatian national team. Croatia didn't have many stars, but they had a cohesive team, with players who understood their roles in the system. They didn't have a winger who cut inside to shoot, but they had wingers who knew how to stretch the defense, creating space for Modric and Rakitic. That's why they reached the final, despite a population of just over 4 million. I'm not saying V-League should copy Croatia. I just want to emphasize that successful football doesn't come from applying a universal formula, but from understanding your own identity and maximizing your unique strengths. Traditional wingers are not a relic of the past, but a tactical weapon that still holds value. They are only forgotten because we are too obsessed with flashy external things. Look at how Japanese football operates. The J-League doesn't have many cut-inside wingers like the Premier League. Instead, they develop wingers with precise crossing ability, suited to their short-passing style. As a result, the Japanese national team always has dangerous crosses from the flanks, creating many scoring opportunities. They don't try to be someone else; they simply are themselves. I want to end this article with a story. In 2026, when I was still a reporter for a print newspaper in Chiang Mai, I wrote a series of articles about a young player named Phanthamit. He was a traditional winger, nothing outstanding in technique, but with a special ability: always knowing how to create space for teammates. My articles didn't get much attention, but later, Muangthong United's coach read them and decided to change tactics. He switched from a cut-inside style to a style using traditional wingers, and the result was an impressive winning streak. Phanthamit became one of the most important players of the team, not because he scored many goals, but because he created space for others to score. That story taught me a lesson: sometimes, the simplest things are the most effective. We don't need to complicate football. We just need to understand that every position on the field has an important role, and the harmonious combination of those roles creates the strength of the team. V-League 2026 is entering its decisive phase. Teams are fiercely competing for the championship and AFC Champions League spots. In that context, I hope coaches will reconsider how they use their wingers. Don't discard players with good crossing ability just because they can't cut inside. Give them a chance, and they will give you deadly crosses. I have followed Vietnamese football for nearly half a century. I have witnessed many ups and downs, many changes. But one thing never changes: the fans' love for the ball. They don't come to the stadium to watch cut-inside moves; they come to watch goals, beautiful plays, moments that make their hearts beat faster. And those moments often come from precise crosses, intelligent runs, unexpected touches. Traditional wingers are not an endangered species. They are just waiting for someone who understands their value. And I believe that, in the near future, they will return strongly, not only in V-League but also in the national team. Because football, at its core, is a game of space and time. And traditional wingers are masters of controlling both. I will continue to follow Le Van Thanh, Tran Van Dat, and other young players playing in this style. I will record their runs, their crosses, their moments of making a difference. Because I believe they are the future of Vietnamese football. And I will be there, with my notebook and pen, to record their stories. The Hang Day Stadium has been empty of spectators for a long time, but I still sit there, waiting for something. And I found it in the feet of Le Van Thanh. A traditional winger, a forgotten one, but gradually proving that he still has value. He doesn't need to cut inside to score. He just needs to hug the touchline, cross the ball, and make a difference. That's how football has been played for hundreds of years, and that's how it will continue to be played, despite any passing trends. I close my notebook, stand up, and leave the stadium. It's dark, but I feel a light in my heart. Because I just witnessed something special, something I will remember forever. And I know that, in the next matches, I will find other special things. Because football never stops giving us surprises. The 12th player on the field is not a person, but an idea. The idea that football always has room for those who dare to be different, those who dare to go against the trend, those who believe in their own value. And Le Van Thanh, Tran Van Dat, and other traditional wingers are the ones bringing that idea to the V-League pitch. I will continue to write about them, not because they are stars, but because they are silent workers, the firekeepers of Vietnamese football. And I believe that one day, they will be recognized for their true value. Then, I will smile, and remember those afternoons sitting at Hang Day Stadium, watching them play with all their passion and dedication. Football is not just about scores. Football is about stories, emotions, unforgettable moments. And traditional wingers are writing the most beautiful stories of V-League 2026.