Vietnamese Golf: From Practice Grounds to the World Stage – A Long Road Ahead

Long Bien Golf Course remained quiet under the early Hanoi sun as I stood at the 18th hole, watching a group of young golfers practicing their putting. They repeated the motion over and over, no one saying a word. I suddenly remembered Rohan Browning – the 100m sprinter I interviewed in 2026 – when he said: "Running is feeling the track." Golf is the same. It's not about the perfect swing, but about feeling the grass, the wind, and yourself. But to develop that feeling, Vietnamese players still have a long road ahead.

The context of Vietnamese golf is changing faster than ever. The number of golf courses has increased from about 20 in 2026 to over 80 by 2026, concentrated mainly in Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, and coastal resorts. The VGA Tour – the domestic professional tour – has been operating since 2026 with 6-8 events per season. But those numbers remain too small compared to Thailand (over 20 events per year) or South Korea (over 30 events). Golf courses are not lacking, but the professional tournament system – where income and rankings are created – remains the biggest bottleneck.

Based on my 15 years of experience following Asian golf tournaments, I notice a reality: Vietnamese golfers have solid fundamental technique but lack experience competing in high-pressure environments. Look at the Asian Tour – the highest level Vietnamese golfers can access. In 2026, only 3 Vietnamese golfers held tour cards on the Asian Tour, while Thailand had 14 and South Korea had 22. The gap is not in technique but in the number of tournaments played each year. An average Thai golfer plays 25-30 professional rounds per year; a Vietnamese golfer only 10-12. That difference creates a gap in situation handling, emotional management, and tournament strategy.

Data from the VangBong.vn Player Depth Index shows Vietnam's golf talent depth at only 2.8/10 – lower than Thailand (7.2) and Malaysia (5.9). This index measures the number of golfers capable of competing at the continental level, not the number of recreational players. This means: we have many players, but very few who can make a living from golf.

The counter-intuitive point here is: building more golf courses does not solve the problem. Golf courses are infrastructure, but the tournament system is what creates professional golfers. South Korea does not have more golf courses per capita than Vietnam (about 500 courses for 50 million people, compared to 80 for 100 million), but they have a dense professional tournament system from regional to national level. Korean golfers can play 30-40 rounds per year right in their own country before going international. Vietnamese golfers must pay out of pocket to compete abroad, with an average cost of $15,000-20,000 per season – a figure too large compared to domestic earnings (the total VGA Tour prize fund in 2026 was only about 8 billion VND, equivalent to $320,000).

I remember the story of Peter Bol – the Australian 800m runner of Sudanese origin – at the Tokyo Olympics 2026. He ran the semifinal in 1:44.11, a national record, then finished 4th in the final. After the race, he knelt and kissed the track, saying: "I run so my parents can see their name on my jersey." Vietnamese golf also needs stories like that – golfers running for something bigger than themselves. But to have those stories, we need a nurturing system from the junior level. Currently, Vietnamese junior golf academies have only about 200 students pursuing the professional path, compared to 5,000 in Thailand. That number says it all.

One blind spot most analyses miss: the role of caddies and support teams. On the PGA Tour, each golfer has an average of 3-4 support staff (caddie, coach, sports psychologist, nutritionist). Vietnamese golfers competing internationally usually have only 1 locally hired caddie, with no coach traveling with them. This gap creates a significant difference in the final three rounds when physical and mental stamina begin to decline. I have witnessed many Vietnamese golfers playing very well for two rounds, then collapsing in the final round because they had no one to read the greens accurately or adjust strategy appropriately.

Exhaustion is not a stopping point, but a crossroads where we choose the next path. For Vietnamese golf, the current crossroads is: continue building courses and hoping, or start building a tournament system and specialized training. The answer seems obvious, but implementation is extremely difficult because it involves the interests of golf course owners – those currently profiting from recreational golf, not professional golf.

The stadium is empty, but the applause still echoes in my ears. I believe Vietnamese golf has potential, but that potential will remain dormant if no one dares to change the structure. The question is: do we have enough patience to build from the foundation, or will we continue chasing superficial solutions?