Applause is Never Noise: Vietnam's Golf Journey Through the Lens of Busan

The practice ground was so quiet I could hear the sound of gloves rubbing against club grips. It was a Tuesday morning in Busan, where I spent three hours just observing a group of young Vietnamese golfers practicing their swings. No cheers, no flags waving, only the steady sound of balls striking clubfaces and the sighs of those unsatisfied with their shots.

I have followed golf for 12 years, from my days as a communications student in Seoul to becoming an official practice ground observer in Busan. But never have I seen a generation of Vietnamese golfers that made me stop and think as much as these young people.

They come from Hanoi, Da Nang, Ho Chi Minh City - regions where golf has only truly developed over the past decade. They carry big dreams and still-rough swings. But what caught my attention was not their technique, but how they looked toward the empty stands every time they completed a good shot.

They are searching for something. Recognition. Applause. A heartbeat from the stands.

Context: Where is Vietnamese Golf Now?

Golf in Vietnam has made significant leaps in the past 5 years. According to data I collected from the Vietnam Golf Association (VGA), the number of registered golfers has increased from approximately 30,000 in 2026 to over 80,000 by the end of 2026. Golf courses have also increased from 30 to 45 nationwide, concentrated mainly in key economic areas such as Bac Ninh, Hung Yen, Dong Nai, and Binh Thuan.

However, the most impressive number is not the number of players, but their age. I analyzed data from national youth tournaments and noticed that the average age of young golfers participating in U18 tournaments has decreased from 16.5 to 14.2 years old in just 3 years. This means Vietnamese families are investing in golf from a very early age, and that creates new pressure on the training system.

But there is a problem that few people talk about: while the number of young golfers is increasing rapidly, the quality of basic technical training is not keeping up. I observed 15 training sessions at golf academies in Vietnam during my most recent business trip, and I noticed a worrying trend.

Core: Technique or Physicality?

I remember an afternoon at a golf academy in Long Bien, Hanoi. A young coach, around 30 years old, was instructing a group of 10 students aged 12 to 15. He kept asking them to focus on increasing club head speed, using physical exercises to improve strength. When I asked about basic swing technique, he laughed and said: "Technique comes later, physicality comes first. Right now, these kids need to hit farther, hit harder."

That is exactly the problem. I have witnessed too many cases of young Vietnamese golfers ruining their technique because of too much focus on physicality. They hit the ball farther, but their accuracy drops significantly. I followed a 16-year-old golfer named Nguyen Minh Quan, who won the national youth championship in 2026. The boy has a club head speed of up to 112 mph, an impressive number compared to the general standard. But his fairway hit rate was only 52%, much lower than the 65% average of Korean golfers of the same age.

I spent 3 months following Quan in tournaments in Korea. The boy can hit the ball 30 yards farther than his Korean opponents, but he often loses strokes on short putts and chip shots around the green. His short game technique is still rough, lacking the finesse that can only come from thousands of hours of systematic practice.

This brings me to an important finding: the overly rapid physical development at a young age is creating a generation of Vietnamese golfers with superior strength but lacking the technical foundation needed to sustain success at the professional level.

I compared data from golf academies in Korea and Vietnam. In Korea, young golfers aged 12-15 spend an average of 60% of their training time on swing technique and short game, 30% on physicality, and 10% on strategy. In Vietnam, this ratio is almost reversed: 50% on physicality, 35% on technique, and 15% on strategy.

What is the result? I have observed that young Vietnamese golfers are often very impressive on the driving range, but struggle when they step onto the actual course. They hit the ball far, but cannot control the trajectory. They are strong, but lack flexibility in difficult situations.

Contrarian: The Audience is the Main Character

As I write this analysis, I remember a moment at the KPGA Korea tournament last year. A young Vietnamese golfer, Tran Quoc Bao, was invited to participate in a professional tournament in Korea for the first time. The 19-year-old boy hits the ball very far, but lacks competitive experience. On the second day of competition, while standing on the 12th green, Bao looked up at the stands and saw a group of Vietnamese fans waving flags. The boy smiled, waved back at them, and then made a putt from about 15 feet.

The ball went in. The stands erupted.

But what caught my attention was not the putt, but how Bao reacted. The boy did not raise his arms in celebration, did not shout. He just looked up at the stands, where Vietnamese fans were dancing, and smiled. That was the moment I realized that golf is not just about technique or strategy, but about the connection between the player and the audience.

I followed Bao throughout that tournament. The boy finished in 45th place, not an impressive result, but I noticed something interesting: in the rounds where Vietnamese fans were present, Bao played significantly better. His average score in rounds with Vietnamese spectators was 71.2, while in rounds without Vietnamese spectators it was 74.8. This nearly 3-stroke difference is not coincidental.

Applause is never noise, it is the heartbeat of the city.

I once wrote 2,000 words about tactics, then realized a single point tells more.

When I observed Bao in moments with Vietnamese fans, I saw the boy stand taller, more confident, and make more decisive shots. The presence of the audience is not just mental motivation, but also a physiological factor. I once read a study from Seoul University on the influence of spectators on athlete performance, and the results showed that the presence of familiar spectators can increase testosterone levels and decrease cortisol - the stress hormone - in athletes.

What does this mean for Vietnamese golf? It means we need to build a golf spectator culture, not just train golfers. When I first came to Korea in 2026, I was impressed by how Koreans follow golf. They don't just come to the course to watch, they come to participate. They cheer, they clap, they create an atmosphere that golfers can feel from hundreds of yards away.

In Vietnam, golf is still a foreign sport to the majority of people. Spectators who come to the course are usually relatives of golfers, or people who already play golf. We do not yet have a true golf spectator culture, where people come to the course just to watch and cheer, like they go to football or tennis matches.

A course without spectators is a body without a heart, still beating but no one hears.

I remember an evening at a golf course in Busan, where I often go to observe Korean golfers practicing. It was a rainy day, the course was deserted. Only me and an old Korean golfer, about 70 years old, practicing putts on the green. He practiced the same 10-foot putt over and over, each time carefully reading the line, aligning, and executing. No one was watching, no one was clapping, but he practiced with absolute focus.

After about 30 minutes, I approached him and asked why he practiced so diligently when no one was watching. He looked at me, smiled, and said in Korean: "I don't practice for the audience. I practice for myself. But when there is an audience, I play better."

That statement made me think a lot. It showed me that golf is a special sport, where the presence of spectators can make a big difference, but at the same time, golfers must also learn to play well when no one is watching.

Contrarian: The Misunderstanding from Outside

Many people think that Vietnamese golf is developing too fast and will soon reach world-class level. They look at the rapidly increasing number of golfers, the increasing number of tournaments, and the impressive achievements of young golfers at the regional level. But I believe this development is going in an unsustainable direction.

I analyzed data from 20 of the best young Vietnamese golfers aged 15-20, and I noticed a worrying trend: most of them have superior strength but lack short game technique. Their average rate on putts from 5-10 feet is only 45%, while Korean golfers of the same age achieve 60%. Their chip-in rate (getting the ball into the hole from off the green) is only 8%, compared to 15% for Korean golfers.

This is not coincidental. It reflects a wrong training philosophy: too much focus on strength and distance, while neglecting the subtle skills needed to succeed at the professional level.

I once witnessed a young Vietnamese golfer, Nguyen Van Hung, 17 years old, hit the ball 320 yards in a tournament in Da Nang. That shot made all the spectators gasp. But in the same round, Hung lost 4 strokes just from short putts and inaccurate chips. The boy finished the round with 78 strokes, while a Korean golfer of the same age, hitting only 280 yards, finished with 72 strokes.

The difference is not in strength, but in technique and finesse.

Takeaway: The Next Internal Signal

So what will happen next with Vietnamese golf? I believe we are at an important turning point. If we continue on the current path - focusing on physicality and strength - we will create a generation of strong golfers who cannot compete at the international level. But if we change our approach, focusing on basic technique and short game, we can create golfers who can truly compete with Korea, Japan, and other top golfing nations in Asia.

I have seen positive signals. Some golf academies in Vietnam have started to change their training programs, increasing time for short game and swing technique. Some young coaches have gone to Korea to study and brought back new methods. And most importantly, Vietnamese families are beginning to understand that golf is not just a sport, but also a career path.

But the biggest question remains: do we have enough patience to build a solid foundation, or will we continue to chase short-term achievements?

Each match is a drumbeat; I am just the timekeeper between two stands.

As I sit in the stands of the practice ground in Busan, watching young Vietnamese golfers practicing, I remember the words of Mr. Park, a 67-year-old football fan I once interviewed during the pandemic: "A stadium without spectators is a grave."

Vietnamese golf is building its stadium. But we also need to build the stands. We need to create a golf culture where Vietnamese people not only play golf, but also watch golf, cheer for golf, and love golf.

I have seen the first signs. At last year's national youth golf tournament, I saw hundreds of parents bringing their children to compete. They didn't just come to drop off and pick up, they stayed all day to watch their children compete. They clapped, they cheered, they created an atmosphere I had never seen in Vietnamese golf before.

That is the beginning of a golf spectator culture.

Data only gives us a place to stand, emotions give us a reason to stay.

I will continue to observe, continue to document, and continue to tell the stories of Vietnamese golf. Because I believe Vietnamese golf is not just about perfect swings or accurate putts. Vietnamese golf is about people - young golfers who are dreaming, families who are investing, coaches who are dedicating, and spectators who are gradually forming.

And I will be there, sitting in the stands, listening to their heartbeat.

Behind the press conference door, there are corridors where hearts are heard.

I remember an evening in Busan, after finishing a day of observation at the practice ground, I walked along Haeundae Beach. It was winter, the sea wind was cold, but I still saw a group of young Vietnamese men practicing swings on the sand. They didn't have real golf clubs, only homemade sticks from tree branches. They didn't have golf balls, only plastic balls. But they practiced with a passion I rarely see in golfers with better conditions.

I approached them and asked why they practiced here. A young man around 20 years old, named Le Van Dat, replied: "We don't have money to enter golf courses. But we love golf. We want to become professional golfers."

Dat told me that he had watched golf tournaments on TV since he was a child, and dreamed of one day competing in major tournaments. He had no coach, no academy, no good equipment. But he had a dream.

I spent 2 hours on that beach, teaching Dat and his group of friends basic swing techniques. They learned very quickly, and I saw in them a passion I rarely see in golfers with better conditions.

Before leaving, I gave Dat an old golf club I had brought with me. The boy received it with bright eyes, as if I had just given him a treasure.

People remember a tournament not by the trophy, but by the moments they hugged each other.

As I write these lines, I remember all the moments I have witnessed in 12 years of following golf. I remember Korean golfers crying after losing an important match. I remember Vietnamese golfers hugging each other after winning their first victory. I remember Korean fans cheering when their golfer made an important putt. I remember Vietnamese fans waving flags in the stands.

Golf is not just a sport. Golf is a story about people, about dreams, about perseverance, and about passion.

And I will continue to tell those stories.

Players leave, but the chair they sat on still retains its shape in memory.

I remember a young Korean golfer, Kim Ji-hoon, whom I followed since he was 15. Kim had a perfect swing technique, a natural talent. But he always faced pressure from family and society. His parents wanted him to become a professional golfer, but he wanted to become a golf course designer.

In 2026, Kim quit golf and pursued his dream of designing golf courses. I met him once again at a golf course in Jeju, where he was working as a design intern. He told me: "I don't regret quitting golf. I still love golf, but I love it in a different way."

Kim's story made me realize that golf is not just about becoming a professional golfer. Golf is also about finding your passion, whether on the golf course or off the golf course.

And that is also true for Vietnamese golf. We don't just need professional golfers, we need people who work in golf - coaches, golf course designers, tournament managers, sports journalists. We need to build a complete golf ecosystem, not just train golfers.

Conclusion: A Journey, Not a Destination

Vietnamese golf is at an important moment. We have potential, we have passion, and we have people ready to dedicate themselves. But we also have challenges - in technique, in culture, and in the training system.

I believe that if we are patient, if we focus on the foundation, and if we build a true golf culture, Vietnamese golf will have a bright future.

But that takes time. And I will be there, sitting in the stands, listening to the heartbeat of Vietnamese golf.

Applause is never noise, it is the heartbeat of the city.

And I will continue to keep the beat.