Without Xuan Son, are Vietnam weaker or more unpredictable? Thai fans are split

A day before the match considered as the Group B final, Thai football forums are far from unanimous. Fan page Kiran Buriram posted a “golden chance” style message, but right below it, an account named Witayanon Sinlapasiriwat wrote: “Do not celebrate too early. Vietnam without Xuan Son may become more unpredictable.” Those two opposing views are pulling the entire Thai fan debate ahead of the decisive fixture on September 29 at Si Jalak Harupat Stadium, Bandung, where Vietnam and Thailand are expected to decide the top spot in Group B.

The context in the article, compiled from multiple Thai social media accounts, is clear: Xuan Son suffered a serious injury and cannot take part in the rest of the regional tournament. For coach Kim Sang Sik, this is a major loss, because Xuan Son is not merely a goalscoring striker. He is a physical reference point, a target man who allows Vietnam to build aerial play and maintain attacking rhythm. When a team loses such a striker, the tactical equation usually goes two ways: either shift to a small, mobile frontline with a false nine, or use more direct runners. The Thai fan Witayanon’s observation that Vietnam “may become more variable” is theoretically reasonable, but it only holds if the new attack is properly coordinated.

Interestingly, the name “FIFA ASEAN Cup 2026” appearing in some comments does not match the actual governing body. The Southeast Asian championship is run by AFF, not FIFA. This could simply be a fan mislabel, but it shows that much of the pre-match information circulating has not been verified. The September 29 date and Bandung venue also need confirmation from organizers, because the traditional regional tournament window is in November and December. The closer we get to a big match, the more ambiguous details get inflated, and writers must stay sober.

From a tactical standpoint, Thai fans are split into two clear camps. The opportunity camp, including accounts such as Mammo Oonhak, Ucup Kangkung, Sudswingringo and Pon Phithik, keeps insisting that without Xuan Son, Vietnam will lose about 70 percent of its attacking power. The cautious camp, represented by Kotcharat Chinbut and Rungsak Sitthiprasert, points to a meaningful historical fact: in the ASEAN Cup 2026 final, Thailand lost to Vietnam even when Xuan Son could not play fully due to injury. That means Vietnam have proven they can win without their number one star.

From a tactical viewpoint, the core issue is not who replaces Xuan Son, but the fact that Vietnam have been built around one focal point. Naturalized players such as Ngo Dang Khoa and Williams Minh Hoang are mentioned as replacements, but this is only like-for-like swapping, not a system rebuild. An attack without a target man is harder to mark, but it also loses the ability to absorb pressure and fight inside the box. If Kim Sang Sik simply replaces one naturalized striker with another without changing the way the team plays, Vietnam could become more predictable rather than more unpredictable.

Another worrying signal lies in a Thai account’s claim that Vietnam almost lost to the Philippines in the previous match. If true, Vietnam’s problem is not just the attack missing Xuan Son, but also a fragile defense. However, since this is a statement from a rival supporter account with no match data to verify, it is hard to conclude. Still, the fact that both the article and the comments focus only on Xuan Son’s absence points to a blind spot: defensive risk is being obscured by the storyline of an injured star. Sports bubbles do not burst with a bang; they deflate with a sigh – and if the defense really has problems, that sigh will come quickly.

The optimistic Thai camp is right to see Vietnam losing its most important player. But they are too focused on one individual loss. Thailand have often been overexcited before matches against Vietnam, and recent history is not on their side. On the contrary, being slightly underrated may help Vietnam reduce psychological pressure. In Southeast Asian football, wounded teams that still keep a solid collective base are often more dangerous than teams being praised everywhere.

Looking at squad structure, the most important thing is not the loss of Xuan Son, but the way naturalized player supply has become a key investment channel for regional federations. Ngo Dang Khoa and Williams Minh Hoang did not come from youth academies; they came from naturalization strategies designed to shorten development time. This is a regional trend, not unique to Vietnam. But it raises a sustainability question: if a country depends too much on naturalized players, losing one key pillar becomes a much bigger shock than for a country with a deep domestic pool.

I have been watching football since the days when pitches smelled of soil, not money. What I have learned is this: when the crowd shouts, I count again from the beginning. Before the September 29 match, Thai fan shouting is only temporary emotion. The only reliable things are how Vietnam operate without a target man, and how their defense handles Thailand’s fast counterattacks. Those two questions have no answer yet, and they will decide who is really the bigger team in Group B.

The honorary trophy, if built only on crowd emotion, is just a tissue for the reigning champion to wipe tears before actual decline. But Vietnam are still the reigning champion, and they have already won without Xuan Son. So let the mockery and excessive expectations aside. The match in Bandung, if it happens as scheduled, will be the real test, and it will answer the question no social media comment can answer: is Vietnam weaker without Xuan Son, or are they becoming more unpredictable to the Thais themselves?