Vietnam Golf: The Journey to Find the Perfect Swing

I stood at the 18th hole of Long Bien Golf Course in Hanoi on a March morning in 2026, when a 20-year-old girl named Nguyen Thuy An – Vietnam's No.1 golfer – made a putt from about 3 meters to win the National Golf Championship. The crowd applauded, but I wasn't looking at the scoreboard. I was looking at her hands – slightly trembling, but the putt went straight into the hole. Her mother's tears in the corner of the grandstand reminded me of my own saying: "The cries in the stands, I hear a player's whole life." Context: Vietnamese golf is at a turning point. According to the Vietnam Golf Association (VGA), as of 2026, the country has 98 golf courses, a 15% increase from 2026. The number of amateur golfers reached about 150,000, but the number of professional golfers is only 40. Meanwhile, Thailand has over 200 professional golfers, and Japan – where I have lived for 20 years – has over 1,000 professional golfers competing on various tours. This gap is not just in numbers, but in the ecosystem of training, finance, and tactical thinking. The core of the issue lies in technique and data. I have followed 12 domestic tournaments from 2026 to now, and I noticed a recurring blind spot: Vietnamese golfers have excellent driving ability – averaging SG: Off the Tee of +0.2 compared to the Asian Tour standard – but they lose in approach shots (SG: Approach) at -0.8. Specifically, their Greens in Regulation (GIR) rate is only 58%, while Thai golfers of the same age group achieve 68%. I once witnessed a match at the 2026 SEA Games, where Nguyen Thuy An led by 2 strokes after 12 holes, but then missed 4 putts from 5 meters on holes 14, 15, and 16. She described it as "psychological pressure," but I saw it as a technical issue: her putting stroke path veered to the right under pressure, a flaw I have seen in many other young Vietnamese golfers. "The golden girl of Japan didn't give me a medal; she gave me a lens" – I wrote this after witnessing Kotona Hayashi, a volleyball player, but it also applies to golf. That lens is patience. The Japanese do not rush; they build technique from the smallest details. I remember in 2026, when I was invited to commentate on a junior golf tournament in Japan, I saw Japanese coaches making students practice putts on a 2-degree slope for 3 months before letting them touch an iron. In contrast, in Vietnam, I see coaches teaching full swings from the very first lesson. This creates a gap: Vietnamese golfers have power but lack stability at short distances – which determines 70% of a round's strokes. I once had an experience that seemed unrelated: in Moscow, at the 2026 World Cup, I shouted so much that people thought I was a reporter. That taught me that enthusiasm cannot replace preparation. In golf, the enthusiasm of Vietnamese fans is huge – domestic tournaments are always full – but the preparation of the training system is still thin. I have compiled VGA data: in the past 5 years, only 2 Vietnamese golfers have earned spots on the Asian Tour, and both failed to make the cut in 70% of the tournaments they entered. The reason is not a lack of talent, but a lack of experience in high-pressure environments. On average, a Japanese professional golfer competes in 25 tournaments a year; a Thai golfer in 20; but a Vietnamese golfer only in 8 – mostly domestic events with low competition levels. Contrarian angle: Many people think Vietnam needs to invest more money in building golf courses and buying modern equipment. But I think that is a mistake. Based on my experience following matches, I see that the problem is not in facilities but in training methods and competition schedules. A Vietnamese golfer can practice on the most modern driving range, but if they are not exposed to stronger opponents, they will never develop decision-making skills in stressful situations. I once saw a young Vietnamese golfer pass the qualifying round of an Asian event in Thailand, but then lose confidence when facing a Korean golfer with no better technique but excellent pace control. "Technical barriers do not block emotions; they only accumulate them" – that is what I told myself after that match. Another blind spot is the lack of connection between Vietnamese golf and international tours. Currently, only one international tournament is held in Vietnam each year – the Lexus Challenge – and most Vietnamese golfers have no opportunity to compete in events with high OWGR points. This creates a vicious cycle: no OWGR points, no international invitations; no international play, no OWGR points. Meanwhile, Thailand has 5 Asian Tour events a year, and South Korea has 3 Japan Golf Tour events. I think VGA should learn from Japan's model: they not only host tournaments but also create a system for selecting and sponsoring young golfers to compete abroad. Japan has the "Japan Golf Association Scholarship" – fully funding 10 young golfers each year to compete in the US and Europe. Vietnam has no such program. I also want to mention a factor that few people notice: the psychology of fans. In Vietnam, fans often expect golfers to win immediately. When a young golfer fails at an international event, they are heavily criticized on social media. I once saw an 18-year-old female golfer cry after being eliminated in the first round of an Asian event, because she received over 200 negative comments. This creates unnecessary pressure. The Japanese have a philosophy called "kaizen" – continuous improvement – they accept failure as part of the process. I believe that if Vietnamese fans change their perspective from "win-lose" to "learning," golfers will have the space to grow. "I thought being an MC was about holding a microphone, but it turned out to be about holding someone else's heartbeat" – this also applies to the role of a sports writer. I don't just write about results; I write about journeys. Over the past 5 years, I have followed the growth of Nguyen Thuy An since she was 15. Initially, she was just an amateur with raw technique. But after 3 years of training with a Japanese coach, she significantly improved her putting – from 1.9 putts per hole down to 1.6. This shows that the right training method can make a difference. But there is still a huge gap to world-class level. I estimate that for a Vietnamese golfer to enter the world top 100, it will take at least 10 more years if we start investing correctly today. In conclusion, I want to pose an open question: Can Vietnamese golf find its own "perfect swing"? Not a technical swing, but a mental one – a mindset that accepts failure, learns from developed golf nations, and builds a sustainable ecosystem. I have seen potential in the eager eyes of young Vietnamese golfers, but potential is just potential without action. "When the stadium was empty, I understood why I could run without getting tired" – I said this when remembering the days without spectators during the pandemic. And I believe that even when the golf course is empty, dreams continue to roll. Vietnamese golf needs a revolution in thinking, not in money. Let's start with short putts, patient practice, and unconditional support from fans.