Vietnamese Tennis: A Journey from Clay Courts to International Spotlight

I have been following Vietnamese tennis since my days as a young track and field athlete, when I first witnessed a tennis match at the national championship. That was in 2026, I was 16 years old, sitting in the far corner of My Dinh Stadium with my old laptop, and I realized that Vietnamese tennis had a story worth telling that few people noticed. Today, when I look at the ATP and WTA rankings, I cannot help but wonder: are we missing a generation of talent quietly growing? Clay courts in Vietnam are not numerous, but what is happening on the hard courts in Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi is a completely different picture. According to data I collected from the Vietnam Tennis Federation (VTF), the number of young players under 18 participating in national tournaments has increased by 45% in the past three years. This is not just a number – it is a signal that Vietnamese tennis is transforming from a recreational sport into a structured training system. I recall a conversation with Coach Nguyen Van Hung, who has spent 20 years training young players in Hai Phong. He told me: "We do not have the facilities like other countries, but we have children willing to train from 5 a.m. That matters more than any clay court." The truth is, Vietnamese tennis is facing a paradox: we have talent, but we lack the system to develop it. Look at Ly Hoang Nam, currently Vietnam's number 1 player. He has achieved some success at the regional level, but to reach the world stage, he needs more than individual effort. Nam's story reminds me of Nguyen Thi Oanh – a life running forward. Both are exceptional talents, but they face limitations in resources and opportunities. I have watched Nam train at a modest sports center in Tay Ninh, where the tennis courts lack proper lighting systems. However, I believe this is changing. The emergence of international tennis academies in Vietnam, such as the IMG Tennis Academy in Da Nang, is creating a new wave. Parents are increasingly willing to invest in their children pursuing this sport, and this is reflected in the rising number of youth tournaments. Another notable point is the development of Vietnamese women's tennis. While we often focus on male players, female players like Tran Linh Chi are making significant strides. Chi, who has reached the top 500 in the WTA rankings, is a prime example of overcoming limits. She had to pay out of her own pocket to compete in international tournaments, showing undeniable determination. But one thing I have realized over years of following this sport: Vietnamese tennis is not just about professional players. It is about thousands of children playing tennis across the country, from modest school courts to upscale urban areas. It is about dedicated coaches like Mr. Hung, who teach not only technique but also sportsmanship. Tactics in tennis are also changing. While world players increasingly focus on serve-based attacking play, Vietnamese players are developing their own style – based on agility and reading the game. I have seen many Vietnamese players use clever slice shots to disrupt opponents' rhythm, a tactic I believe can make a difference on clay courts. However, there is an issue we need to face: the homogenization of playing styles. When I watch matches at the national championships, I see too many young players trying to imitate international stars' styles while forgetting to develop their own. This reminds me of my saying: "The arena is not big because of the seats; it is big because of the stories that dare to stay." We need our own stories, not copies. The truth is, Vietnamese tennis is at a crossroads. We can continue down the old path where talent is wasted due to lack of investment, or we can seize this opportunity to build a sustainable system. I have seen what happens when a country invests properly in sports – I witnessed the rise of Vietnamese athletics with Nguyen Thi Oanh, and I believe tennis can do the same. But that requires change from the roots. We need to invest in infrastructure, coach training, and most importantly, create an environment where young players can develop without worrying about finances. I have met too many young talents who had to quit because they could not afford to compete internationally, and that is an unacceptable waste. I remember once asking a 16-year-old player in Hai Phong about his dream. He said: "I want to play at Wimbledon." I did not laugh, because I have seen similar dreams come true elsewhere. But I also know that dream will only become reality if we – those in sports, journalists, managers – do our part. Vietnamese tennis does not need empty promises. It needs concrete actions. And I, as a sports journalist, will continue to follow and tell these stories, because I believe every Vietnamese player has a story worth listening to. As I write these lines, I remember my old laptop and the lesson it taught me: slow does not mean late, just telling stories differently. Vietnamese tennis may not have reached the world's peak, but its journey has only just begun. And I believe, with persistence and proper investment, we will see Vietnamese players shine on the international stage. An empty stadium means applause moves into the heart; tennis becomes just a breath. And that breath, I believe, will grow stronger.