Teqball opens Vietnam's medal tally at Asiad 20: The first bronze and the problem behind it

Before the Asiad 20 medal table in Aichi-Nagoya had time to heat up with the rivalry of major powers, Vietnam produced a historic marker from an unexpected bracket. Nguyen Hoang Minh Tan and Trinh Gia Nghi defeated the Indian pair of Dsouza Quimcy Joaquim and Beg Mohamed Anas Imran 2-0 in the Teqball mixed doubles bronze-medal match. The bronze is both an opening gift for Vietnam and the first medal for a completely new sport at the 20th edition of the continental games. A key detail: before Asiad 20, few Vietnamese fans knew Teqball. Yet on the court in Japan, Vietnamese athletes showed surprisingly fast adaptation. They handled the ball with delicacy, held sensible spacing and refused to rush in decisive moments.

Teqball was born in Hungary more than a decade ago, combining elements of football and table tennis. The table is curved, so the ball never follows a straight trajectory. Players must develop control with the chest, thighs, feet and precise touch. Unlike football on grass, Teqball forces players to move in tight spaces and pass with minimal touches. In doubles, coordination almost decides the result. No one can play as independently as in eleven-a-side football; one misplaced pass can break the whole rhythm. With Teqball making its Asiad debut, a new playing field emerged. Many strong teams had not prepared, while countries with a tradition of technical football quickly found an edge. Vietnam reached the medal round in its first participation, a sign that domestic football skills are not inferior at the continental level.

To understand the value of this bronze, we need to look at the details. Minh Tan and Gia Nghi had to overcome several rounds just to reach the top four. Against India, they won 2-0, but the scoreline did not reveal all the tension. When the ball touches a curved table, every lifted ball can become a lost point if one player loses rhythm. I was especially attentive to how Trinh Gia Nghi moved to the right flank, helping Minh Tan escape the opponent's pressing. This kind of signal does not appear in a statistics sheet, but it decides points. When the arena is quiet, data begins to score. Looking at the tempo changes in the second set, the Vietnamese pair forced India into a passive defensive position. They did not try to score with powerful shots; instead, they prolonged rallies and waited for India to make a mistake. Tactically, that was calculated patience.

Based on my experience following multi-sport tournaments, medals in new sports often come from coaching flexibility rather than financial resources. Minh Tan and Gia Nghi did not have a large data analysis team around them like some swimmers, but they had another advantage: stable time training together and fewer distractions from a crowded competition calendar. That allowed them to develop a coordination reflex that many top teams lacked. One reason Teqball became a promising field is low operating costs. The court is compact, there is no need for a large pitch or complicated lighting systems. This fits the limited infrastructure of many Vietnamese localities. But facilities are only the visible part. To create more athletes like Minh Tan and Gia Nghi, training centres need a proper curriculum. Teqball should not be treated as entertainment; it should be added as a supplementary training system for football academies. If this happens, Vietnam could create a generation of players with better ball control and faster reactions in tight spaces. From a long-term development perspective, the Asiad 20 bronze could become the seed of a youth training revolution.

The success of Vietnamese Teqball also shows the importance of choosing the right focus in an investment cycle. Instead of spreading resources across dozens of sports, a federation can choose a new sport and build a national team from trained football players. Costs are lower, the testing cycle is shorter, and results arrive faster. That is why Teqball becomes a strategic piece.

The story became clearer when Ba Truong Giang and Le Anh Khoa lost to the Iraqi pair in the men's doubles bronze-medal match on the morning of September 20. Same sport, same delegation, but only one pair stood on the podium. The difference between the two medal matches lay in how the athletes managed the final five minutes. In football, an individual mistake can be corrected by a moment of brilliance; in Teqball, repeating a mistake twice means losing the point. That explains why the depth of a new sport is always difficult to predict.

While Teqball created a surprise, Karate continued to confirm Vietnam's martial arts depth. Bui Ngoc Nhi won bronze in the women's individual Kata event. She lost to Ono Maho 0-5 in her opening match, a result that could have broken many fighters. But Ngoc Nhi read the match in her own way. Against Choi Haeun of South Korea, she won 5-0, a score showing almost complete superiority in performance. Against Leong Wai Yee Shannon of Singapore, Ngoc Nhi won 4-1, enough to secure a medal. The order of the matches shows that she did not simply recover psychologically; she gradually raised the difficulty of her katas. This is a key point viewers often miss: in Kata, quality depends on controlling amplitude and breathing, not raw power. With experience from SEA Games 33 and Asian youth championships, Ngoc Nhi knows how to correct mistakes between rounds. The women's team Kata quarter-final against Nepal on September 22 will be a chance for her and her teammates to add more medals.

Karate is familiar to Vietnamese sport, but Ngoc Nhi's way of winning bronze revealed a different level. She did not need to overpower opponents; instead, she performed with precise execution. To an international judge, the difference between 4-1 and 5-0 lies in the control of the centre of gravity, the angle of body rotation and the exact moment a kata ends. These details are hard to see with the naked eye, but they define rankings. If the coaching staff records and analyses every performance, the chance of advancing in the team quarter-final will increase.

After nearly half a day of competition, China moved to the top of the medal table with 2 golds, 4 silvers and 1 bronze. Lin Xinyu brought China its first gold in the women's triathlon. Japan ranked second with 2 golds and 3 bronzes. Macao, South Korea and Kazakhstan each won one gold, placing third to fifth. Vietnam temporarily ranked ninth with 2 bronzes, a notable start with many key events still to come. Early medal tables always change. But Vietnam earning medals from a new sport and a martial arts performance event on the first day sends important signals to sports administrators.

If we stop at reciting achievements, the story will miss the core point. Many will see the Teqball bronze as a media boost and proof of Vietnamese sport's growth. I want to look differently. This medal raises an uncomfortable question: will new sports receive systematic investment, or are they just accidental discoveries based on individual talent? On the continental stage, leading countries always build early talent detection systems. They bring Teqball into schools, organise national youth events and set selection standards. One bronze medal cannot compensate for the absence of a youth system. When more teams start studying Teqball, the gap will close much faster than the speed of building infrastructure. Vietnamese sport has seen martial arts win SEA Games medals without creating strong international brands. Without a long-term plan, this bronze could become a beautiful memory instead of a foundation.

What experts should note is the preparation process of the Vietnamese Teqball team. Not many countries have long-term training data to compare before each match. Vietnamese athletes mainly relied on coordination habits and game-reading skills. Even so, they found a sensible rhythm. I believe the coaching staff did well in mental preparation, especially before the bronze-medal match. They did not put the pair under pressure to win; instead, they set a goal of performing to their abilities. When the mind is freed, executions become smoother. Vietnam does not need many medals in mainstream sports; what it needs is a talent-detection system for new sports. That statement sounds paradoxical, but Asiad 20 is showing a different order: operational knowledge matters more than enormous budgets.

The empty stadium in 2026 taught me that sport is a conversation. Asiad 20 has just opened a new conversation about Teqball, Karate and many overlooked sports. Fans do not leave when the team loses; they leave when the story dies. For me, the Asiad 20 story has just begun. The Teqball bronze and Ngoc Nhi's Karate bronze are beautiful, but the real value lies in whether administrators can read the signal. If they choose to replicate the model, Vietnamese sport can explore more new sports at future editions. If they only celebrate the achievement and return to old habits, the medal will remain one line in the standings. The court is open, and the remaining question no longer belongs to the athletes.