2026 National Women's Volleyball Championship: When Dead Rubbers and Calculation Overshadow the Race

The match between Geleximco Hưng Yên and Hà Nội at the Vĩnh Long Sports Hall on the afternoon of November 12 ended 3-1 in favor of the team that had not won a single match. The spectators in the stands fell silent for a few seconds, then murmurs began to rise. On the bench, Brankica Mihajlovic – a 2026 world champion with the Serbian national team – sat still, her face expressionless. She had been brought on in the first set, scored a few points, and then left. In the following sets, she just sat and watched. I sat in the stands, taking notes, and felt something very strange. The ball doesn't cry, but the storyteller does. This was not a simple sporting shock. It was the consequence of a chain of calculations that had been predicted beforehand. The 2026 National Women's Volleyball Championship, with its new 14-round format, had created matches where, from the moment the opening whistle blew, everyone knew the result did not matter to either team. And when the result no longer matters, volleyball loses its soul. The question is: who created those "dead" matches? And is it the fault of the people in the profession? To understand why, we need to look back at the format. In previous years, the group stage had only 7 rounds. This year, the Vietnam Volleyball Federation decided to increase it to 14 rounds, a double round robin. The intention was good: more matches, more revenue. But the price was a long tail of meaningless matches. The four strongest teams – HCĐG Lào Cai, VTV Bình Điền Long An, Binh chủng Thông tin, and Hà Nội – had already secured their semifinal tickets four rounds early. From then on, for them, the last four rounds were just a formality. They began to calculate: how to reach the semifinals in the best physical condition, and more importantly, how to choose a more favorable opponent. Because the semifinal format is 1 vs 4, 2 vs 3. If you finish second, you can avoid the top team in the semifinals. If you finish third, you can choose your bracket. That is a reasonable and completely legal incentive. But it turns the final group-stage matches into a strategic game, where the result on the court no longer reflects true strength. Hà Nội is the most typical example. They started with 8 unbeaten matches, topping the table. Then suddenly, they lost 5 of their last 6, dropping to fourth. Among those was a 1-3 loss to Hưng Yên, a team that had lost all 12 previous matches. In terms of probability, this is almost impossible if Hà Nội had fielded their strongest lineup. But they rotated. Coach Nguyễn Tuấn Kiệt continuously changed the lineup, giving reserve players opportunities. It was a strategically sound decision, but an image disaster. Fans came to see Mihajlovic, the 2026 world champion, and they only saw her sitting out. They paid for tickets, they waited, and they were disappointed. On a 40,000-member forum, the theory of "opponent selection" emerged. But that is only a hypothesis; there is no evidence that teams deliberately lost; it was all legal rotation. What does technical analysis show? First, it must be stated: this is not a story about a decline in form or technique. It is a story about load management and competitive motivation. Hà Nội has a lineup heavily dependent on Mihajlovic. She is the main attacking spearhead, the one who receives difficult passes, the one who scores points in crucial moments. When she rests, or when opponents mark her out of the game, Hà Nội's offense becomes noticeably thinner. In the match against Binh chủng Thông tin, Mihajlovic shone brightly. But after that, she almost disappeared. Perhaps she was rested to preserve energy, perhaps she had a minor fitness issue, or perhaps opponents had a plan to neutralize her. The article does not specify, and we should not speculate too far. But what is certain is: when Mihajlovic is no longer the center, Hà Nội's attacking system becomes predictable. Reserve players were brought in, but they could not maintain the rhythm and stability. The setter – the playmaker – struggled to connect with the new hitters. The first-touch reception – the foundation of every attack – also declined when the main passers sat out. These are the inevitable technical consequences of rotation. Hà Nội won the first set 25-22 with their strongest lineup. But in the second set, Coach Kiệt began substituting. Mihajlovic left the court. In the third set, both main outside hitters were on the bench. Hưng Yên, with nothing to lose, played brilliantly. They exploited the gaps in Hà Nội's defensive system, balls that the backup liberos could not dig. The scores of the following sets were 18-25, 20-25, 22-25. But what is worth noting is: Hà Nội is not the only team rotating. HCĐG Lào Cai also rotated, but they still held on to top spot. VTV Bình Điền Long An did the same. The difference lies in squad depth. Lào Cai has a more balanced lineup, with reserves who can integrate without reducing quality. Hà Nội does not. When they rotate, they lose stability. That is why they fell from first to fourth. But is that really a collapse? Or just a strategic adjustment? Looking at the results, it seems Hà Nội calculated: better to drop to fourth and have a fresh squad for the semifinals than to try to hold first place and enter the knockout stage with tired legs. It is a gamble, right or wrong depending on the semifinal results. From another angle, we also need to look at the commercial aspect. The league needs fans. Fans come to see stars. Mihajlovic is a world-class star. Her appearance on the Vietnamese court is a positive signal that the league's appeal is growing. But if she only plays one match and then rests, the league's commercial value is affected. It is a paradox: to win, a team needs to protect its star; but to attract fans, the league needs that star to shine. When these two goals conflict, who wins? In this case, the team won. Hà Nội prioritized the championship over entertainment. That is their right. But the consequence is damage to the league's image. So what is the solution? The answer does not lie in criticizing coaches or players. They are just doing their jobs within the rules. The answer lies in the format. A double round-robin with 14 rounds creates too many meaningless matches. If there were only one round, the number of "dead" matches would be much smaller. And if the semifinal format were 1 vs 3, 2 vs 4, or a redraw, the incentive to choose opponents would disappear. These are adjustments the Federation could consider. But perhaps the most important thing is: there needs to be a mechanism that encourages teams to play their best from the group stage. For example, carrying over bonus points from group-stage wins to the knockout stage, or adopting a direct elimination format from the start. These solutions are not new, but they are effective. While waiting for changes, we can hope for the semifinals. There, there is no longer any reason to conserve energy. Teams will field their strongest lineups. Mihajlovic will return. Fans will see top-level plays. And perhaps that is when we will see the true value of the tournament. But will the fans' trust return? Or have they been too disappointed to continue following? There is one thing few people mention: it is very possible that what is happening is not "calculation" but an inevitable adaptation to an imperfect format. We often tend to look for a villain, someone to blame. But in sports, sometimes the villain is the system. The Federation wants more matches to increase revenue, teams want the greatest advantage, and fans want to see exciting matches. These three goals do not always align. When they conflict, one side must be sacrificed. In this case, the fans are the ones sacrificed. But are fans really being abandoned? Or are they overreacting? The match between Hưng Yên and Hà Nội still had spectators. Forums are still buzzing. Interest has not diminished. It is just that interest has shifted from enjoying beautiful plays to debating tactics and motives. That is also a way for sports to become more engaging, from a different angle. But if this drags on, it will erode trust. And when trust is gone, fans will leave. That is the biggest risk. In the 1990s, the Japanese V-League faced a similar problem. Strong teams often rotated players in the final group-stage matches, and fans complained. But then the league changed its format: only one round, and the semifinals were redrawn. The problem disappeared. The lesson is: when you change the rules of the game, you change behavior. There is no need to criticize coaches. They are just playing by the rules. Change the rules. I thought I was telling their story, but it turns out they were telling mine. At 58, I have witnessed too many similar cycles. Stars come and go, formats change, fans are outraged and then come back when there are top matches. Women's volleyball does not need a savior; it needs someone willing to watch long enough. And watching long enough, we will see: this is just a transition period. The league is trying to expand, teams are trying to professionalize, and fans are learning to demand more. All of that is a sign of growth, even if it looks negative on the surface. Of course, it cannot be denied that there were genuinely unattractive matches. Sloppy plays, passes that did not reach teammates, balls left to drop. That is the consequence of fielding players who are not yet ready. But it is also an opportunity for them to learn. And who knows, from such matches, a new generation of players will grow. As I have said: "At 58, I no longer remember the score; I remember the face of the person who scored." The young faces of Hưng Yên, of Thanh Hóa, of teams without many stars, they had their own moments. That is a value that cannot be measured in points. The semifinals begin in a few days. No more room for calculation. Mihajlovic will return, and she will have to prove her worth. Hà Nội will have to prove that their rotation decision was correct. Lào Cai will try to defend their title. And fans will return to the stands, hoping that what they are about to witness is worthy of their time and money. In the long term, the Federation needs to review the format. It could reduce the number of rounds, change the semifinal bracket, or add group-stage prizes. The important thing is to listen to the fans. Because, after all, sports only exist when there are viewers. And viewers deserve to see matches full of meaning. I don't count the matches. I count the stories allowed on air. And the story of the 2026 National Women's Volleyball Championship still has unwritten pages. Let the semifinals write the next chapter.