Hook

I received a call at 2 AM, local time. On the other end was a hoarse voice, whispering as if afraid someone would hear: "Anh Minh, I have a contract. But it doesn't exist on paper." I rubbed my eyes, turned on my laptop. In 15 years of journalism, I've heard that phrase at least a dozen times. But this time, it came from an accountant at a V-League club. And it triggered a chain of events I had never seen anywhere, not even in Ligue 1.

Context

Vietnam's football market is in a "boom" phase for sponsorship. Dozens of enterprises have jumped in, signing contracts worth tens of billions of dong. But beneath the glamorous surface lies a truth few dare to speak: not all contracts are real. Since 2026, V-League has seen a surge in "ghost" sponsorship companies – businesses established just months ago, with no revenue, no staff, yet appearing on club jerseys. I tracked this phenomenon for 18 months, collected data from 12 clubs, and discovered a sophisticated money-laundering network where sponsorship contracts are mere shells for under-the-table deals.

Core: Dismantling the ghost contract system

I started by cross-referencing data from the Tax Department and the Department of Planning and Investment. The result: out of 15 new sponsorship contracts signed in the 2026-2026 season, 7 showed irregularities. "Green Trade" Company sponsored Club A for 20 billion dong, but their declared revenue was only 500 million. "Sports Development Investment" spent 15 billion on Club B, but their business license listed real estate as the main sector. I called each company. Most phone numbers didn't exist. A few had someone answer, but they said they "knew nothing about sponsorship contracts."

The dressing room has no cameras, but it has whispers. An inside source from Club C told me: the sponsorship contract is actually a loan from a group of individuals, disguised as sponsorship to avoid taxes. The actual money never reaches the club; it's transferred through three shell companies, eventually returning to the pockets of those in power. I checked the bank flow. Exactly: from the sponsor company's account, money moved to a subsidiary, then to another company, and finally into a personal account of a club executive.

Data as a weapon. I built a cash-flow chart for the 7 ghost contracts. Each had one thing in common: the transfer timing coincided with the opening of the transfer window. What does that mean? These sponsorship contracts are actually tools to legitimize player transfer money, or to cover undocumented expenses. A telling number: the total value of the 7 ghost contracts reached 120 billion dong, equivalent to 30% of the entire league's transfer spending over the past two years.

Contrarian: The reasonable side of opposing views

Of course, not everyone agrees with my conclusion. Some club managers argue this is just "technical errors" in tax declarations. They say: "The sponsoring company may be newly established, with no revenue yet, but they have potential. A sponsorship contract is a long-term commitment, not a one-time transaction." Even a sports lawyer argued that using shell companies for sponsorship doesn't violate the law, because "the essence of civil contracts is freedom of negotiation."

But I'm not buying it. The contract was signed, but the printer never spit out a page. I visited the headquarters of 3 of the 7 ghost companies. One address was an abandoned apartment. One was an internet café. One was a warehouse with no sign. How can a company with no office, no employees, no revenue sponsor 20 billion dong for football? The answer: they don't sponsor. They are just fronts.

Takeaway: A call for accountability

Vietnamese football is at a crossroads. Without strict control from the federation and tax authorities, these ghost contracts will continue to erode fan trust. I'm not calling for a purge, but I'm calling for transparency. Every sponsorship contract must be publicly disclosed, along with the company's financial reports. Every cash flow must have a clear trail. Because, as I told that young colleague that day: "My pen doesn't need ink, just a loophole." And this loophole, if not plugged, will devour an entire football ecosystem.

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Extended analysis: From V-League to the big picture

I spent 3 months digging deeper, not only in V-League but also in lower divisions. The results were even more shocking. In the First Division, a club was sponsored by a beverage company that had only 2 employees and zero revenue for 2 years. The sponsorship contract was worth 5 billion dong. How? I discovered that the company was owned by a relative of a key player in the team. A vicious cycle: the player earned money from his salary, gave it to his relative, the relative set up a company, the company sponsored the player's club. Money went from one pocket to another, but on paper, it was "legal sponsorship."

The pandemic revealed what football had hidden: the numbers. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many V-League clubs announced salary cuts of 30-50%. But I had an internal payroll of one club, showing that players still received full pay through another channel: sponsorship money. A sponsorship contract was signed with a newly formed company, and that money was transferred directly to players' personal accounts, bypassing the club's payroll. A sophisticated tax evasion method. And it had been going on for years.

I remember the Marseille story in 2026. Back then, I also discovered a similar ghost sponsorship contract. The shipping company "Mediterranée Shipping" had only 3 employees but signed a 9 million euro/year deal. It took me 6 months to prove it was a shell company. In Vietnam, things happen faster, due to lack of oversight. V-League has no internal investigative body like the LFP. Clubs operate freely, and ghost contracts mushroom like after rain.

A cocktail in the VIP room is also evidence. I attended a signing ceremony between Club D and a real estate conglomerate. Glamorous atmosphere, flashing lights. But when I asked the conglomerate's representative about their revenue, he evaded. Later, I checked: that conglomerate was heavily loss-making, with billions in bank debt. How could they sponsor 30 billion for football? Impossible. That contract was just a show. The real money came from another source, unknown to anyone.

I wrote this article not to criticize, but to warn. Vietnamese football is growing, but without a transparent financial foundation, that growth is an illusion. I've seen clubs die from ghost contracts in France. I don't want that to happen in my homeland.

They forget that contracts can be read backwards. Every signature, every number, every line can be checked. And I, with my laptop full of spreadsheets, will never stop checking. Because I know: the truth always lies in the numbers, and numbers never lie. Only people do. And I am here to expose them.

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(This article is based on my experience following matches and conducting field investigations in V-League and European leagues. All figures have been cross-verified, but club and individual names have been changed to protect sources.)