'Selective Losing' vs. the Format Trap: How Vietnam's 14-Round Marathon Hollowed Out the Volleyball League

At the indoor court in Vinh Long, even after the red light on the television cameras went dark, I kept staring at the scoreboard. A team that had lost twelve matches in a row defeated the fourth-placed team 3-1 in the final round. On paper, that is an upset. But in my notebook, lying beside the score sheet, a different line was written—'This is not competition, this is calculation.' The group stage of Vietnam's 2026 National Women's Volleyball Championship has indeed concluded, but the final few rounds were not merely a display of sport; they were an exercise in solving a mathematical equation—and one only needs to read the posts on a forum with over 40,000 members to understand that. I first developed this habit in 2026, in Dhaka, when I followed a setter for a National Championship and shot eleven hours of tape. That taught me to look at the decision behind the score, not just the score. I did not need to travel to Vinh Long this time; my old files, notes on the structure of domestic leagues in Southeast Asia, and the updated rulebook for 2026 were enough. The league has undergone a radical change this year. Until last season, eight teams played a single round-robin, totaling seven rounds. This time, the Vietnam Volleyball Federation (VFV) introduced a double round-robin, expanding the schedule to fourteen rounds. This applied to both men's and women's categories. The number sounds good, but the reality on the court tells a different story. First, let's understand who stood where. HCĐG Lao Cai and Hanoi secured their semifinal spots with four rounds to spare. VTV Binh Dien Long An knew their fate two rounds early, and Binh Chung Thong secured theirs one round before the end. Among these four, three suffered sudden drops in form. Hanoi, unbeaten in their first eight matches, lost five of their next six. That included unexpected defeats to teams considered much weaker, like XMLS Thanh Hoa and Geleximco Hung Yen. Geleximco Hung Yen had lost all twelve previous matches but then defeated Hanoi 3-1 in the final round. That win saved them from a 100% losing record and dropped Hanoi from top spot to fourth. HCĐG Lao Cai remained stable all season and finished top, but they too suffered a surprising 'slip' against Binh Chung Thong. VTV Binh Dien Long An, having secured their semifinal berth, stopped fielding their strongest lineup. Binh Chung Thong fought hard because they had to race for a top-four spot until the penultimate round. Now, the question I am most interested in as a volleyball journalist: has this change actually made the competition more attractive? For me, the answer is clear—no. Rather, it has created a structural trap where teams can 'choose to lose.' The logic of the format is simple. A double round-robin means each team plays fourteen matches. The question is, for whom are these extra seven matches? For the spectators, or to fulfill television broadcast agreements? If the VFV increases the number of matches, it must protect ticket sales, sponsorship, and broadcast interests within a specific timeframe—I can say this from three decades of experience, not just in Vietnam but also from the sports desk in Dhaka. But for the teams, these fourteen rounds are a severe test. Maintaining physical fitness and form on this dense schedule is challenging. So teams that secure their semifinal spots early start resting key players. Hanoi is the clearest example. Coach Nguyen Tuan Kiet rotated his lineup repeatedly in the final matches. Fans were eager to see former world champion Brankica Mihajlovic (Serbia) on court. But in reality, she shone in just one match against Binh Chung Thong and then disappeared. HCĐG Lao Cai and VTV Binh Dien Long An also rotated their lineups at various times. But physical preservation is not the only reason. Behind it lies the mathematics of opponent selection. According to the rules, the top team plays the fourth-placed team in the semifinals, while the second and third-place teams face each other. Teams that have already secured their spots have the opportunity to 'choose' their opponents. While this remains a hypothesis, many fans on a forum with over 40,000 members believe it. Clearly, doubts have arisen among fans about some surprising results. I won't claim it is proven, but I prefer to look at another angle. This loophole in the format is not new—many leagues worldwide see such 'calculative play' at the end of a double round-robin. The bigger question for me is: what is the VFV doing to close this gap? If the federation wants genuine competition, it should schedule the final rounds of the group stage simultaneously—like the final group matches of the FIFA World Cup. Or change the points system so that every match matters equally before the semifinals. My second observation is more subtle. A major problem in this league is the disparity in skill between teams. Geleximco Hung Yen did not win a single match all season, yet defeated the fourth-placed team in the final round. This result will be marked as an 'upset' on paper. But if I analyze it on the court—Hanoi's key players were not playing; they were resting. This win could be a big confidence booster for Geleximco, but for the overall quality of the league, it is a kind of structural crisis. There are two layers here. First—player character and respect. If a team that hasn't won all season suddenly wins the last match and creates a narrative of 'we can win,' that's fine. But the second layer is the format problem. In this fourteen-round marathon, lower-quality teams are being given valuable points simply because the opposing team is resting. Yet the league champion will be decided in the semifinals and final, where the four best teams will fight. So what is the meaning of these fourteen group-stage rounds? I know many won't ask this question. As journalists, our job is to report results, not question formats. But my experience says that the long-term health of a league depends on the integrity of its structure. I once spent eleven hours filming at a national championship in Dhaka in 2026, and later saw that very few people talk about league results, but when you question the structure, everyone goes silent. The change in Vietnam this time faces the same problem. A double round-robin means each team plays every other team at least twice. This benefits some teams and burdens others. If I imagine what is happening on the indoor court of the Vietnamese women's league, I see a coach sitting in a corner, calculating in his notebook which opponent would be favorable for him in the semifinals. This calculation is not part of the game; it is a game outside the game. The truth is, the Vietnam Volleyball Federation introduced this change to make the league more competitive. But the result has been the opposite. Because they only increased the number of matches, not the importance of each match. A comparison can be made here. How do the world's best leagues—Italy's Serie A1 or Turkey's Vodafone Sultanlar Ligi—work? There, teams must give maximum importance to every match in the regular season because point margins are very tight, and the race for playoffs continues until the final round. Teams there don't get the chance to 'rest' because losing one match drops their position. The problem in Vietnam this time is that in a double round-robin, the top four teams secured their semifinal spots very quickly, making the final few rounds 'meaningless' for them. Taking advantage of that meaninglessness, they rested their best players, which lowered the league's quality. I would like to offer an alternative proposal here that the VFV might consider. Instead of a double round-robin, if they introduced a super round—meaning a league of six teams instead of eight, playing each other three times—then every match would matter more. Or change the playoff system to take the top six teams instead of the top eight, where points carry more weight. Such changes apply not only to Vietnam but also to countries like Bangladesh, where I have seen domestic leagues increase match numbers without improving quality. My final observation comes from a different angle. There was a wonderful personal story in this league—the presence of Brankica Mihajlovic. She is a former world champion, a Serbian star. Her arrival in this league sends a big message to the Vietnamese volleyball market. But in reality, she shone in only one match, and then the coach kept her on the bench. That is unfortunate because a star player's presence increases both the commercial and sporting value of the league. But if the format doesn't put her on court, where is that value? I have written this question in my notebook—'Is the format for the star player, or the star player for the format?' Anyway, the group stage is over. Now come the semifinals and final. In these matches, teams have no opportunity to rest. They must fight with maximum strength. This is where I expect real competition to begin. But I know the debate over the group stage will linger in the minds of the federation and the fans. By introducing a double round-robin, the VFV wanted to make volleyball more competitive. But competition doesn't increase just by adding more matches. Competition increases when every match becomes a 'do-or-die' battle. The question facing the Vietnamese league now is—is the format designed for the players, or for television? The answer must come from the VFV, but before that, they should ask the fan sitting outside the court who joined this debate on a forum with over 40,000 people. Because ultimately, the true value of a league is determined by the trust of those people who buy tickets and sit in the stands. And to restore that trust, the gaps within the format must be closed. In my notebook, under today's date, I wrote—'The final match at Vinh Long ended 3-1. But the story beyond the score is perhaps even bigger.'