Coach Kim Sang Sik Returns to South Korea for Father's Funeral: A Quiet Moment Before ASEAN Cup 2026

Late afternoon on August 23, 2026, at the Vietnamese national team training center in Hanoi, a black car quietly left the main gate. In the back seat sat head coach Kim Sang Sik, who had just received news that his father had passed away at age 84 in South Korea. There was no noisy farewell, no television cameras capturing the moment — just a man carrying a private grief, leaving the place where he had spent nearly two years building a football dream for a country not his own. The official statement from the Vietnam Football Federation (VFF) released the same day said: President Tran Quoc Tuan had sent his deepest condolences to Coach Kim Sang Sik and his family, while encouraging him to return home to handle funeral arrangements for his father. The VFF statement emphasized complete support for the South Korean tactician and hoped he and his family would soon overcome the loss to continue their work. At first glance, this is personal, everyday news — a foreign coach returning home to mourn his father like millions of others. But looked at closely, this story touches many deeper layers: from the pressure of preparing for the ASEAN Cup 2026, to the governance culture of the VFF, and the bigger question of how much responsibility one man can carry on his shoulders before beginning a major tournament. To understand why this moment matters, one must revisit Kim Sang Sik's career trajectory in Vietnam. He was appointed in May 2026, replacing Philippe Troussier, who could not replicate the glorious achievements of Vietnam's golden generation under Park Hang-seo. From the very first days, Kim understood that he was not only a coach — he was there to reconnect the thread of trust between fans and the national team after a period of doubt. And he succeeded: under Kim's leadership, both the U23 and senior national teams achieved positive results in regional and continental competitions, including the 2026 ASEAN Cup title after a dramatic victory over Thailand in the two-legged final. The 2026 ASEAN Cup is the next test. The tournament is scheduled to run from September 24 to October 5, 2026, featuring 10 Southeast Asian teams. Vietnam has been drawn in Group A alongside Thailand, the Philippines and Pakistan — a manageable but not easy group, as Thailand remains one of the region's most difficult opponents, while the Philippines now boast a formidable generation of naturalized players. Kim's plan was to spend the whole of August and early September perfecting tactics, testing formations and building fitness for his key players. Having to leave the team exactly during this crunch period — even for just one week — raises the question: will this 7-day gap create any cracks in the preparation? According to the VFF statement, Kim Sang Sik is expected to stay in South Korea for about a week to complete his father's funeral before returning to Vietnam to resume work. In absolute terms, one week is not a worrying number. In world football, there have been coaches who had to leave their teams for longer for various personal reasons, and assistant staff were still able to maintain the training plan. But the issue is not the number of days — it is the nature of the work in the pre-tournament phase. Data from previous ASEAN Cups shows that teams performing well typically have at least three consecutive weeks of full-coaching-staff preparation before their opening match. Coach Park Hang-seo once spent nearly a month with the team before the 2026 AFF Cup — the tournament where Vietnam were crowned champions after a 10-year wait. Coach Kiatisuk Senamuang with Thailand also emphasized the importance of continuity in training plans. The 7-day absence of the head coach may not collapse the overall plan, but it breaks the rhythm of tactical communication. Video sessions, simulation drills, those centimeter-level adjustments in positioning — all require the hand and voice of the person who designed them. From my experience following Southeast Asian football for over a decade, I have noticed a rule that never changes: in the regional arena, success often belongs to the team with greater stability in the dressing room rather than the team with the most outstanding individuals. And that stability starts with the presence of the leader. When the head coach is absent — even for 48 hours — players tend to loosen their discipline slightly, not because the assistants are weak, but because the invisible thread connecting the coach's vision to the actions on the training pitch was built over many months. A week without Kim Sang Sik, therefore, is not a disaster, but it is a test of the system that the VFF and the assistants have built. The most striking thing about how this situation was handled is not that Kim went home, but how the VFF reacted. Instead of applying pressure and urging him to return quickly, President Tran Quoc Tuan was the one who encouraged him to go home and mourn. This gesture says a great deal about the VFF's governance culture — an organization once criticized for lacking professionalism in many historical periods, but now gradually changing its approach to align more closely with international standards. In Asian football, it is not uncommon to see federations react stiffly when coaches face personal issues: some demand funeral documentation before approving leave, some grant only 3 days and demand an immediate return. The way the VFF handled this — publicly announcing, sincerely condoling, imposing no deadline — demonstrates a certain level of maturity. This will not only help Kim feel more at ease while with his family, but also scores points in the eyes of future foreign coaching candidates. However, there is a contrarian view that few people notice: Kim's temporary departure might inadvertently create space for Vietnamese assistants to demonstrate their capabilities, and for young players to become more self-reliant in their routines. In modern football, the head coach is not the sole god dispensing all instructions. The coaching staff under Kim has been given considerable authority in handling specific situations in each training session — from adjusting intensity to monitoring each player's physical condition. When the head coach is absent, the training atmosphere may become more open; players may feel more comfortable voicing opinions to assistants, creating a valuable two-way communication channel before entering a tournament of existential importance. As for Kim Sang Sik himself, perhaps this time in South Korea is not merely about handling his father's funeral arrangements, but also a quiet moment for him to reflect on himself. The pressure of Vietnamese football is immense — after winning the 2026 ASEAN Cup, fans almost assume the team must defend its title. The praise heaped on Kim over the past two years comes with ever-growing expectations. In a paradox that any insider understands: the more he succeeds, the greater the pressure. The mourning period, however painful, also gives him a legitimate reason to pause, to recharge his mental energy. Studies in sports psychology have shown that coaches who experience personal loss often return to work with extraordinary focus — as if the pitch becomes the only place where they can control everything in their lives. Vietnamese football fans have a habit of shouting about "dedication" and viewing any disruption as a bad omen. But the truth lies in the middle: one week is enough time not to disrupt the plan, and enough time for a person to process the emotions needed. What matters most is not how long Kim is absent, but what state of mind he returns with. Experience from international tournaments shows that teams whose coaches have just gone through personal crises sometimes perform with even greater hunger — because everyone wants to fight for their mentor. The Vietnamese players under Kim, especially those who have been with him since the Southeast Asian U23 tournament, know his character well. They know he is gentle off the pitch but strict in running the team — and they also understand that the best way to honor a coach in grief is not to let him down on the pitch. Looking ahead, the 2026 ASEAN Cup is not just Vietnam's title-defense tournament. For Kim Sang Sik, it is also the gratitude of a son to his father — a man who lived to 84 and watched his son choose a path far from home to pursue his passion. That father, before closing his eyes, might have seen his son standing at the top of Southeast Asian football. And when Kim returns to Hanoi, when he steps onto the training pitch in his familiar tracksuit with a tactical analysis board in hand, he will carry something greater than a championship: the will of a son who wants to show his father that every sacrifice was worth it. In football, people often say the ball is round and always turns in unexpected ways. But on the human level, there are things more rounded and more beautiful than a ball — when a team, a federation and a nation decide to stand beside a person in the most difficult days of their life. The VFF has chosen to stand with Kim Sang Sik. And in the 7 days ahead, in the quiet moment before the ASEAN Cup, perhaps a simple condolence becomes a bond — a bond that, on the pitch, no opponent can measure.