The Star Signing Frenzy and the Ghost of Dissolution: The Financial Equation V.League Cannot Ignore

Thousands of fans were ecstatic in the stands at Hang Day Stadium when the referee blew the final whistle. The club had just earned promotion to V.League after 5 years of waiting. But in a small meeting room behind the technical area, a group of sponsors were whispering about the 30 billion VND debt left by the old management. Amidst the flags and celebrations, no one mentioned that number. They only saw the trophy, not the accounting table. And that is what is killing Vietnamese football from the inside. The context I am referring to is not an isolated case. In the past 10 years, V.League has witnessed at least 5 clubs dissolve or withdraw simply because they could not pay wages. Names like Ninh Binh FC, Quang Ninh FC, or more recently Sanna Khanh Hoa BVN have become nightmares for fans. In the 2026 season, when I was a trainee at Khanh Hoa, I witnessed firsthand the club's wage bill accounting for up to 68% of revenue, far exceeding the 50% safety threshold recommended by sports economists. The leadership at that time decided to keep wages to avoid upsetting key players. At the end of the season, the team placed second from bottom, were relegated, and then faced the fate of dissolution with total debts exceeding 20 billion VND. The Khanh Hoa story is not the exception. Most V.League clubs operate on a "beg-and-give" model from local budgets or major sponsors. Revenue from ticket sales, broadcast rights, and merchandise has never been enough to cover costs. According to an independent study in 2026, V.League clubs on average generate only about 15% of their total revenue themselves, with the rest depending on the pockets of wealthy patrons. When sponsors withdraw or local governments cut budgets, the system collapses like dominoes. What makes this model unsustainable? First, operating costs are too high relative to revenue. A V.League club needs at least 70-80 billion VND per season to maintain the squad, pay salaries, travel, and rent stadiums. Meanwhile, the largest source of income comes from sponsorship by one or two local businesses, which are often unstable over the years. Second, the domestic transfer market is being driven up irrationally. In 2026, a 22-year-old player who had never appeared for the national team was sold for 25 billion VND – three times his real value when compared with regional leagues of the same level. Value is determined by scarcity and desire, not by on-field performance. When a club spends 25 billion on a player, they expect him to make an immediate difference, but football does not operate on that logic. I remember during Euro 2026, I followed how the market valued Lamine Yamal – the 16-year-old Spanish player – jumping from 60 million euros to 180 million in just one month. Not because he touched the ball more, but because the market saw future earning potential. The value of a player always stems from data and expectations, not from the amount a sponsor is willing to spend to please fans. The Vietnamese market is doing the opposite: we pay for the past, not the future. Let us try a quantitative scenario: if a V.League club has revenue of 80 billion VND and operating costs of 100 billion VND, then the loss each year is 20 billion VND. If the sponsor withdraws after 3 years, the accumulated loss will be 60 billion VND. At that point, the club could try to save itself by selling players. But the roster is shrinking in value because the market is saturated, and rich teams no longer want to spend money. The result is a fire sale of assets. Many teams have died not because they lost on the pitch, but because they lost on the balance sheet. Dissolution is not the end, it is the most honest financial statement a club has ever published. There is a popular view that the collapse of clubs stems from the lack of passion of investors. But I believe the opposite: it is the excessive passion of football lovers – including myself – that has created an environment where no one dares to tell the truth about finances. We cheer when the team signs a star, but no one asks where the money comes from. We criticize when the team sells a key player at the end of the season, but the money was already spent on big-name contracts. Sports journalists often cover matches as heroic stories, no one investigates the nature of transfer deals. This creates a vicious cycle: the more stars signed, the more debt; the more debt, the more dissolution. The problem is not the lack of money. Total spending by V.League clubs in the 2026 summer transfer window hit a record of 500 billion VND, double the same period last year. That money is enough to build 10 club academies, creating a source of homegrown players without having to buy them. But we waste it on 30-year-old players past their prime. I once joked with a friend: The V.League transfer market is like a casino, where people bet on each other's vanity. Fans may think that winning on the pitch is the only measure, but many clubs owe banks hundreds of billions of VND from years ago and are still silently paying off debt. There is a model that Vietnamese clubs should learn from, that of Portuguese clubs like Sporting Lisbon and Benfica. They invest heavily in academies, train young players, and then sell them to big European clubs for profit. Instead of spending 25 billion VND to buy a famous player, they spend 25 billion VND to operate a high-tech football academy, scouting thousands of children in the area. After 5 years, they will have a crop of players worth many times the initial investment. European clubs have turned football into a profitable industry, while we still do not know how to read financial statements. Another notable point is the impact of emotion on financial decisions. When my team – Khanh Hoa – was relegated in 2026, fans blamed the players for lacking effort. But the data showed that the number of successful crosses and shots on target was similar to the previous season; the problem was that the squad had weakened because they could not pay foreign players on time, leading them to play half-heartedly. Look at the simple reality: no money, no discipline; no discipline, no tactics; no tactics, no victories. This causal chain is clear but often ignored in heated debates. I do not deny the joy that stars bring. Every time a Vietnamese overseas or high-quality foreign player is signed, fans flock to the stadium. But can that joy last when the team is on the brink of bankruptcy? Try asking Sanna Khanh Hoa fans when they had to watch their home team play in the First Division with a young squad – are they still happy? If football professionals do not put economic efficiency first, they cannot develop sustainably. Conversely, if they can balance finances, they will build a team that succeeds not only on the pitch but also as a profitable business. It must be said that V.League does not lack success stories. Hanoi FC once built a youth training system and sold many players to foreign teams, earning significant profits. Similarly, Hoang Anh Gia Lai with its famous academy of Duc Nguyen has produced a generation of talents like Nguyen Cong Phuong, Nguyen Tuan Anh, or Nguyen Van Toan. But these teams themselves are also facing financial difficulties, because they have not found a way to turn training products into a stable cash flow. A football academy is like a factory; if the output is not consumed at the right value, the factory will go bankrupt. Of course, I am not advocating for clubs to fully privatize or become joint-stock companies immediately. The monopolistic model of sports federations in Vietnam also creates many barriers. But at the very least, clubs need financial transparency. As the 2026 season began, 12 out of 14 V.League teams announced their operating budget, a step forward from before. However, an announced budget is not an audited report; those numbers can be inflated to attract sponsors. To build trust with fans, clubs should publish audited financial statements by an independent unit, as European clubs do under UEFA's financial fair play framework. As the season enters its decisive phase, instead of only focusing on beautiful goals, I want fans to spend a little time looking at the balance sheet of their beloved club. That is not a dry thing, but a way to check whether your team has a plan for the future. A club with a healthy financial foundation can overcome difficult seasons without having to sell its gems. Conversely, a club living on slogans will not avoid the fate of dissolution once the hype fades. We often sing: "Football is the king of sports." But that king is living on a sandcastle. The waves of financial failure are slowly approaching, and if we do not know how to build a solid foundation, the castle will collapse. When that happens, not only does a club sink, but the dreams of millions of supporters are buried as well. I do not want to witness another Sanna Khanh Hoa, nor see a club resume filled with trophies but owing players' wages for 6 months. It is time to accept that Vietnamese football does not only need sponsors, but also visionary managers. A World Cup or Asian Cup season is not enough to change that. But if all of us – fans, players, and bosses – shift our perspective toward sustainable value, the future of our football will no longer be a haunting fear of untimely dissolution. Every record starts from a touch of the ball, and ends with a number on a spreadsheet. That number, if we know how to see it, will tell the fate of an entire club.