Violence Returns to V.League 2026: The Footprint of the Forgotten and the Lesson from VAR

Thống Nhất Stadium last weekend had no beautiful goals, no moment of brilliance from a star. What remained in my eyes - of one who has sat for hours before a screen to slow down every frame - was a kick straight into the stomach of a Nam Định foreign player, and a stamp that broke the leg of a Viettel midfielder. People call it a pitch, but there are moments when the pitch becomes a ring without a referee. Ninety minutes of V.League 2026, Round 3, were a horror film about professional ethics that no screenwriter would claim as their own. The scariest thing isn't the malicious tackle, but how we accept it as part of the game. In the last three rounds, I have recorded at least four situations deserving severe punishment. There was the kick by Đồng Nai center-back Huỳnh Tấn Sinh on young CAHN player Đình Bắc inside the penalty area, the stamp by Nam Định foreigner Ezequiel Santos Da Silva on an opponent's chest during an aerial duel, and the brutal tackle from behind by defender Đoàn Văn Hậu. Four situations, four blind spots of the pitch, but only one common problem: premeditated violence. The context of the 2026 season needs reminding. The V.League has used VAR for the past three seasons. Players, according to an informal survey I conducted with insiders, have gradually become accustomed to closer scrutiny of tackles. But VAR has a blind spot: balls that happen behind the referee's back. Tấn Sinh's kick wasn't a challenge for the ball. It was a calculated retaliation, when the ball was far away, when referee Lê Vũ Linh couldn't observe. And it was only punished with a yellow card. Meanwhile, the way CAHN - one of the wealthiest clubs in the V.League - rose to the top with a 3-0 victory, created a sad paradox: success on the scoreboard can't hide the decline of behavior on the pitch. Football expert Đoàn Minh Xương calls these "superfluous tackles", challenging players to self-control. But the problem goes much deeper. Young player Đình Bắc - a rising talent at CAHN - was fouled not once but twice in the same match. One tackle led to injury. This is no longer a coincidence. It is the tactic of a team. Newly promoted clubs like Đồng Nai, with experience mostly from the First Division - where VAR isn't equipped - become bewildered on the big stage. They lack in squad strength, so they compensate with muscle power. They aren't used to camera surveillance, so they think tackles behind the referee's back will escape punishment. This is a vicious cycle where the lack of awareness of an individual becomes a disease of the whole system. Let's look at history. The victims of violence on Vietnamese pitches have always been small players, belonging to clubs without power. In 2026, Trần Anh Khoa of SHB Đà Nẵng had his leg broken by a tackle and never returned to top-flight football. In 2026, a player from An Giang had to quit the game due to a similar injury. In 2026, Hoàng Vũ Samson was stamped on the foot during a match and had to sit out long-term. Who are they? They are the ones without a voice, without strong media to protect them. Conversely, when a national team star like Đoàn Văn Hậu commits a foul, people call it a "playing habit" that needs reminding. The difference in the language we use to describe the violent behavior of different people is the crack in fairness. I have followed Vietnamese football for 36 years, and I have never seen the inequality of status imprint so clearly on each disciplinary decision as now. But I want to say something else, something rarely mentioned. VAR is creating boredom for violence. Before, a malicious tackle could escape the referee's eye. Now, with slow-motion camera systems, every sin is exposed. This creates a reality show of players' ugly behavior. Thể Công Viettel coach Dương Vũ Lâm said that ugly images spread very quickly, repeat over and over, creating pressure to the point that authorities cannot stand idly by. The very next day, the VFF Disciplinary Committee held an emergency meeting. This shows the power of media, but also exposes a reality: the VFF is being led by public outrage rather than a consistent disciplinary process. In the final minutes of the match I was following, when Đông Á Thanh Hóa were losing 0-3 and down to ten men, I witnessed something strange. Their players, instead of trying to score a consolation goal, rushed to argue with the referee. A young player made a stamp on an opponent's foot when the ball was already out of play. His behavior cannot be justified, but I understand that a team losing morale easily loses reason. Referee Lê Vũ Linh stood there, blowing his whistle and showing a yellow card, but to me, his leniency was a ticket for violence to continue. When a player can no longer keep calm, he becomes more dangerous the longer he stays on. Leaving him on the pitch is an injustice to other players. This is a hole in refereeing policy. In an analysis of season data, I found that the number of dangerous tackles in the V.League hasn't decreased over the years. It decreased in the first two seasons with VAR, but when referees got used to using VAR and became more subjective in determining fouls, the number increased again. This isn't a conclusion from an official study, but from my observation of thousands of hours in front of a screen. Modern football, with its high speed and constant contact, needs a very fine filter to distinguish between determination and violence. VAR is a tool, but it stops at providing information. The final decision still belongs to humans - referees with too much pressure. And when humans are tired, they fall back into the familiar path of forgiving unforgivable acts. I remember a scene from the documentary about the 2026 World Cup I made. There was a substitute player for the Iran national team, standing to sing the anthem for 90 minutes. He didn't get to play, but he cried when his team was eliminated. He cried for his career, for his position, for the touches he dreamed of. Players with violent habits are often fearful people. They fear being surpassed, being replaced, being forgotten. And in that fear, they turn the pitch into a battlefield to assert their existence. This doesn't justify their behavior, but it explains why heavy punishments aren't effective in the long run. Without education from youth academies about sportsmanship, without exemplary behavior from senior stars, the fear of one generation of players will be inherited by the next. V.League 2026 has just begun, but it is posing a big question for Vietnamese football leaders. The question isn't whether to increase penalties. The question is whether we are ready to protect young talents like Đình Bắc. When a defender from a bottom club commits a serious foul on a striker from a top club, it isn't just a football situation, but a reflection of the power hierarchy within the league. Wealthy clubs like CAHN and Nam Định often have stronger squads and are protected by media. Poorer clubs like Đồng Nai, Long An, they have one way to counter that strength - using violence to dominate mentally. Does our league inadvertently create an environment that encourages such behavior? There is one image I cannot forget. It is the image of coach Dương Vũ Lâm in the press room after the match against Đồng Nai. He said in a tired voice: "Football is for dedication, not for destroying each other." From Lyon to Dakar, from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City, football people - they never want to witness a young talent having his leg broken on the pitch. I saw the weariness in the eyes of an old man who has devoted his life to football. And I ask myself, I wonder which is worse: an empty stadium or a stadium full of violent shouting. Perhaps, when violence is redefined not just as an act but as the indifference of those responsible, then it is time for a cultural revolution in football. That revolution doesn't begin with a heavy penalty, but with all of us - football people, football fans - refusing to turn those who use violence into heroes.