Vietnamese Golf: From Humble Practice Grounds to the World Map — A Journey of Pioneers

When the stands are empty, the match reveals what tactics conceal. I stood on the damp fairways of Long Bien Golf Course on a June morning, when no television camera was on. That is where I began to understand that the story of Vietnamese golf does not begin with titles, but with 5 AM practice sessions in the mist, when young caddies hit balls into nets after their shifts. My background: born in South Korea, working in America, I have followed Asian golf for two decades. I witnessed the rise of South Korea, the boom of Japan, and now, I am observing a new phenomenon — Vietnam. Not a story of a single star, but of an ecosystem forming from seemingly disparate pieces. Over the past three years, I have followed 14 amateur and professional tournaments in Vietnam, from the Vinpearl Open to smaller events in Da Nang and Nha Trang. The data I collected paints a different picture than what international media usually describes. This is not a story of an exceptional genius, but of a generation of players building solid technical foundations under unexpected conditions. Look at the numbers: while South Korea has over 500 golf courses serving 50 million people, Vietnam has only about 90 courses for 100 million people. But the growth rate of young golfers (under 18) in Vietnam has increased 340% during 2026-2026, according to data I collected from the Vietnam Golf Association. This number is not just statistics — it is a signal of a cultural shift. I remember an afternoon at Da Lat Golf Course, where I met a group of 12 teenagers training under an Australian coach. They had no modern equipment, no TrackMan, no dedicated gym. But what caught my attention was their approach to practice — each one had a notebook with detailed notes about every shot, every technical adjustment. That is a discipline I often see in Korean academies, but here, it appeared naturally, without any template. The truth is, Vietnamese golf is at a special stage — a stage I call 'the formation of an identity.' Unlike Thailand, which has had a systematic training system since the 1990s, or India, which has strong support from large corporations, Vietnam is finding its own path. And interestingly, it is the scarcity itself that creates a generation of players with remarkable adaptability. Consider the case of Nguyen Anh Minh, a 17-year-old golfer from Hanoi. In the tournament I followed at Tam Dao Golf Course in March this year, he executed a shot from thick rough on the 14th hole, a par-5 — a shot that most professional golfers would choose to play safely back to the fairway. Minh chose a 3-wood draw from 245 yards, landing the ball on the green and creating an eagle opportunity. That shot was not just a technical moment — it was a statement of confidence, a confidence built from thousands of hours of practice under imperfect conditions. But here is what I want to emphasize: the development of Vietnamese golf is not just about talented young golfers. It lies in the support system forming around them. I interviewed 23 caddies at various golf courses and discovered that 14 of them are self-teaching golf through YouTube videos and online courses. They are not just bag carriers — they are potential students, future coaches, those who will build the training system for the next generation. One of my most interesting findings is how golf courses in Vietnam are adapting. At Long Bien Golf Course, I observed they redesigned several holes to create more diverse tactical challenges — not just distance, but angles, green reading, risk management. This shows a deep understanding of golf as a tactical sport, not just a technical game. However, there is an issue I noticed throughout my observation: the lack of data. While professional golf tours worldwide have detailed data collection systems for every shot, Vietnamese golf is still in its infancy. I had to collect data myself from scorecards, direct observations, and interviews with coaches. This is not just a challenge for analysts like me — it is a barrier for the young golfers themselves, who lack sufficient information to understand their strengths and weaknesses. But this very scarcity creates an opportunity. In a golf world increasingly dependent on data, building a data system from scratch could be a competitive advantage. I saw this happen in South Korea in the 2000s, when academies began building their own data systems, and that created a generation of golfers capable of analyzing matches scientifically. Another important point I want to address is competitive psychology. In the tournaments I followed, I noticed a clear difference between young Vietnamese golfers and young golfers from other countries. Vietnamese golfers tend to remain calmer in high-pressure situations. I witnessed a 16-year-old golfer, Tran Quoc Bao, making a 12-foot par putt on the final hole of a tournament, with hundreds of spectators watching. He showed no signs of nervousness — he executed the putt with the confidence of a 30-year-old professional. When I asked about this after the match, he said: 'I have practiced this putt thousands of times in rainy conditions. A putt in dry conditions is nothing to fear.' This leads me to an important observation: the development of Vietnamese golf should not be measured by the number of titles, but by the development of a sustainable ecosystem. I have seen too many countries build single stars without support systems, and those stars often disappear after a few years. Vietnam is doing the opposite — they are building a solid foundation, slowly, and sustainably. Look at how schools in Vietnam are beginning to incorporate golf into physical education programs. In Ho Chi Minh City, I visited a high school where golf is taught as an official sport, with a mini practice course built right on campus. This not only creates a new generation of golfers — it creates a generation of people who understand golf, tactics, competitive psychology. And that has immense value for the long-term development of the sport. However, I also noticed significant challenges. Infrastructure remains limited, the cost of playing golf remains high relative to average income, and government support is still insufficient. But what makes me optimistic is the passion of those working in Vietnamese golf. I met coaches who dedicate all their time to training young golfers without adequate compensation. I met parents who save money to give their children the opportunity to play golf. I met local businesses beginning to sponsor youth tournaments, not for profit, but because they believe in the potential of this sport. One of the most memorable moments of my trip was at a youth tournament in Da Nang, where I met a 12-year-old girl named Le Minh Anh. She had no professional clubs, no private coach, but she had something I rarely see in young golfers: a deep understanding of tactics. When I asked her about her approach to the par-4 7th hole, she answered in detail about reading the wind, pin position, and club selection based on turf conditions. That is not knowledge a 12-year-old can learn on her own — it is knowledge passed down from a systematic training system. When I asked her about her dreams, she said: 'I want to become a professional golfer and compete on the LPGA.' That is a big dream, but not impossible. And importantly, she does not just have a dream — she has a plan, a roadmap, and an understanding of what is needed to achieve that dream. The development of Vietnamese golf is also creating significant economic impacts. According to data I collected, the golf industry in Vietnam has created approximately 15,000 direct and indirect jobs, from caddies to coaches, from golf course staff to equipment manufacturers. This number is expected to double within the next 5 years, as new golf courses are built and international tournaments begin to be held in Vietnam. But there is something I want to warn about: rapid development can create problems if not managed carefully. I have seen this happen in many Asian countries, where the golf boom created a large gap between those who have means and those who do not. If Vietnam is not careful, golf could become a sport reserved for the elite, and that would diminish the diversity and vitality of the sport. I also want to address an issue that few people talk about: the shortage of female golfers in Vietnam. While the number of young male golfers is growing rapidly, the number of female golfers remains very limited. This is not just an issue of opportunity — it is an issue of culture, of how society views the role of women in sports. I met many talented young girls who lack family support, practice opportunities, and role models to look up to. But I also see positive signals. At a youth tournament in Hanoi, I met a group of 5 young girls, all under 15, all with good technique and all dreaming of becoming professional golfers. They formed a self-study group where they share knowledge, practice together, and encourage each other through difficulties. That is a beautiful image, and it gives me hope that women's golf in Vietnam will develop in the coming years. Another important point I want to emphasize is the role of technology in the development of Vietnamese golf. While developed countries are using advanced technology like TrackMan, GCQuad, and complex data analysis systems, Vietnam is still in the early stages of technology adoption. But this could be an advantage — Vietnam can learn from the mistakes of other countries and build an efficient technology system from the start. I have seen some golf courses in Vietnam beginning to use mobile applications to track results and provide feedback to golfers. This not only helps golfers improve their skills, but also creates an online golf community where golfers can share experiences and learn from each other. This is a step in the right direction, and I believe it will play an important role in the development of Vietnamese golf. But there is something I want to warn about: over-reliance on technology can create a generation of golfers lacking adaptability. I have seen this happen in many countries, where young golfers are so accustomed to using technology that they cannot read greens intuitively, cannot feel wind changes, cannot make decisions based on instinct. Golf is a sport that requires both technique and intuition, and balancing these two elements is crucial. Throughout my observation, I learned an important lesson: the development of Vietnamese golf is not a story of individual stars, but of a community forming. It is about coaches dedicating their lives to training the next generation, about parents sacrificing to give their children opportunities, about local businesses believing in the potential of this sport, and about young golfers daring to dream and daring to pursue their dreams. As I left Vietnam, I carried a sense of optimism that I rarely have when talking about golf development in emerging countries. Not because I believe Vietnam will soon produce a Tiger Woods or a Lydia Ko, but because I believe Vietnam is building a solid foundation for the sustainable development of golf. And in an increasingly competitive golf world, that is what matters most. A season is just one sentence in a book a decade thick. And the story of Vietnamese golf, I believe, will be one of the most interesting stories in the coming decades. Not because of the titles they will win, but because of how they built this sport from the most difficult conditions, with patience, with intelligence, and with a genuine love for this game. I will continue to follow the development of Vietnamese golf, not just because of my work, but because I truly believe this is a story worth telling. And I hope that, in the coming years, I will have the opportunity to write about Vietnamese golfers competing in major tournaments around the world, not as outsiders, but as worthy representatives of a rapidly developing golf nation. Coldness is a long-term strategy, not a character flaw. And patience, I believe, will be the key to the success of Vietnamese golf in the coming years.