A 2025 V.League 2 match. Phù Đổng Ninh Bình (green) is currently cruising towards promotion with an 11-match win streak. — Photo courtesy of Phù Đổng Ninh Bình

By Anh Đức

Promotion to the top of the footballing pyramid is perhaps the pinnacle of joy for any small football club.

Stories of small clubs with big dreams climbing up the ladder are a memorable part of every footballing nation, with Luton Town and Wrexham in England being the prime examples.

The same is also true in Việt Nam, where promotion up to V.League 1 is perhaps an easier feat, where a newly established team only need at least three years to be part of the nation's top clubs.

However, recent regulatory changes introduced by the Vietnam Professional Football JSC (VPF), the organiser of V.League 1 and 2, could bring a halt to some of those small club dreams and, at the same time, raise serious questions about fairness and the true essence of competition.

Previously, promotion from V.League 2 to V.League 1 was simple: finish at the top, and your club earns a spot among Việt Nam’s footballing elite. But under new VPF regulations, achieving promotion has become more complex. Clubs now must meet stringent licensing requirements set by the Vietnam Football Federation (VFF), including improved infrastructure, financial stability, robust youth programmes and capable administrative structures. While these measures aim to professionalise the league, they could unintentionally create barriers that smaller, passionate clubs may struggle to overcome.

The logic behind the new rules is understandable. After all, ensuring clubs have stable finances and proper facilities helps maintain the league’s quality and integrity. It prevents scenarios where teams collapse financially mid-season or compete without adequate resources, both of which damage the league's reputation.

Yet football’s charm lies in its unpredictability and the dreams of smaller clubs achieving big things. Imagine a club from a small city, fuelled solely by passion and community support, defying odds to top V.League 2—only to have their promotion blocked by administrative technicalities. Such a scenario would not only crush the dreams of players and fans, but also diminish the competitive spirit that makes football captivating.

It raises a critical point: are these regulations unintentionally favouring wealthier, better-connected clubs while sidelining those with fewer resources but greater ambition? There's a risk of creating a league that becomes exclusive, where financial muscle rather than sporting merit dictates success. This could stifle genuine competition, turning the vibrant landscape of Vietnamese football into a closed shop dominated by the financially privileged.

Moreover, the sudden introduction of these standards without substantial transitional support could catch clubs off guard, leaving them scrambling to comply. It begs the question—has the VPF done enough to assist clubs in meeting these criteria, or are they merely setting bars higher without providing ladders?

For Việt Nam’s football to truly thrive, regulations must not only raise standards but also preserve fairness. Clubs must be judged primarily on their achievements on the pitch, with additional standards phased in gradually and transparently, supported by resources to help them adapt. Otherwise, Vietnamese football risks losing its soul, trading passionate competition for sterile, administrative box-ticking.

As fans, we celebrate when underdogs defy expectations, when small clubs grow big through sheer determination. It's crucial we protect this fundamental beauty of football. Regulations should support, not hinder, the dreams of clubs and communities that breathe life into the game.

Because at its heart, football isn’t just about infrastructure or finances. It’s about passion, ambition and the thrilling unpredictability of competition—values that Vietnamese football must always uphold. VNS