When Media Rights Become a Gamble: Lessons from the V-League

Hook: In 2026, VPF announced the V-League media rights package with a reported value of over 200 billion VND for three seasons. The contract was set to run through the 2026/26 season. This figure was once expected to open a new growth cycle for Vietnamese football. But by mid-cycle, many payments were delayed, local television stations broadcast through their own arrangements, and clubs continued to complain about a lack of sponsorship money. I have worked with media rights contracts for more than three decades, from the era when pay television still used scratch cards to today's livestream apps. I have never seen a market with such a large gap between announced value and actual cash received as Vietnamese football. No one says it out loud, but everyone is waiting to see the payment records. Context: Media rights are the second most important revenue stream for professional clubs worldwide, after shirt sponsorship. In Vietnam, clubs rely mainly on owner funding. When major sponsors withdraw, clubs like CLB Sài Gòn or Long An FC fall into wage arrears, dissolve, or are relegated in silence. I once sat in a meeting room at a national television station in 2026, when parties debated whether to pay for the V-League media rights package. One executive said: "If we buy it, who will watch? People go to coffee shops to watch for free or use pirated apps." The room went silent. That was the moment I realized the problem was not the clubs, but the revenue structure of the entire system. Core: The 2026–2026 V-League media rights contract is worth about 200 billion VND in total, or nearly 70 billion VND per season on average. This money is shared among 14 clubs, with each team receiving about 4–5 billion VND per season before VPF deductions and operating costs. Meanwhile, the minimum cost for a club to survive in V-League is around 40–50 billion VND per season. The financial gap is enormous. Compared to regional leagues, the Thai League signed a media rights deal worth around 600–700 million baht per season. The Indonesia Super League also experienced significant growth when it attracted a new media partner. Meanwhile, the V-League remains in a revenue dip, despite the national team's achievements at the Asian Cup, SEA Games, and World Cup qualifiers. I have been tracking television viewing data in Vietnam since 2026. Viewership for national team matches is always high, but viewership for V-League matches has not grown proportionally. This is a phenomenon I know well in many emerging markets: national pride outweighs local club attachment. As a result, sponsors want to put their logos on the national team, not on clubs. The V-League media rights story carries a paradox: the more clubs depend on owner money, the harder it is to create an attractive football product, and the weaker the product, the harder it is to sell media rights. Revenue from rights stays stagnant while club operating costs rise every year. In my view, the question is not the headline price but where the cash flow goes. If rights are sold at market value to a platform with real distribution capability, clubs will receive more. In the current context, VPF and the clubs are playing defense. The model I see in fast-growing leagues like Saudi Arabia, Japan, or the United States does not ask "who do we sell rights to?" but "how can as many people as possible watch?" Once they maximize viewership, the rights value rises automatically. The V-League is doing the opposite — negotiating with each small broadcaster, signing contracts with unclear digital distribution clauses, then blocking free platforms. The result is that many young viewers switch to the English Premier League or watch foreign content because they do not want to struggle to find a way to watch their hometown team. The empty-stadium summer during the COVID-19 pandemic showed me that crowd noise is not the only thing that creates media value. When no spectators were allowed, leagues continued broadcasting, but advertising value dropped sharply. Home viewers had become accustomed to watching free content on social media. In the V-League, fans have long been used to watching for free. Moving to a paid model requires a long-term process of market education. During that process, clubs cannot afford to wait. I see a bright spot in youth development. Many clubs now run relatively structured academies. But what interests me more is revenue from player transfers. In recent years, Vietnamese clubs have completed some notable transfers of players abroad, but the numbers are still small and mostly involve young players. This reflects that the scouting and training system is not strong enough to produce a stable supply of talent. Here is a calculation I often share with executives: if a club develops two high-level young players each year and sells them for 20 billion VND each, that is 40 billion VND in revenue. Compared to the 4–5 billion VND from media rights, the advantage is enormous. The problem is that Vietnamese football still operates like gambling: waiting for a golden generation to appear, then selling them off, rather than building a continuous development pipeline. Contrarian: Many people think increasing media rights fees will solve the financial equation. I disagree. Media rights are not the main revenue source of the V-League, and the V-League should not try to become a league that sells rights at inflated prices. If the rights are sold at a high price to a broadcaster without a distribution strategy, clubs will receive money for two years and then face a collapse, as has happened with many contracts in other markets. Media rights are a marriage that nobody likes, but everybody waits to see the paperwork. When both parties do not show long-term commitment, the contract is just paper. If clubs continue to depend on wealthy owners, every sponsorship or rights contract is only a temporary fix. What I want to see is a directional shift: First, clubs must develop revenue from local fans: ticket sales, merchandise, and event organization. Second, they must focus on academy development and selling players to bigger leagues, creating short-term cash flow that is also sustainable. Third, they need a synchronized media strategy to build club brands without depending on the national team's results. Short-term urgency does not solve the long-term value problem of the league. The market reacts quickly to on-field results but reacts very slowly to transformation strategies without clear data. The V-League rights puzzle is like watching a match where players run a lot but create no chances. Tactical analysis would say they have more possession, but the goal never comes. Vietnamese football is doing a lot of running in midfield — administrative reform, personnel changes, meetings — but the real financial goals have not yet arrived. Takeaway: The question I leave is not "how much are V-League rights worth," but "how will your club survive when the owner no longer wants to burn money?" Every season that passes makes that question more urgent. The answer lies in whether clubs dare to look at their own revenue structure. The 2026 World Cup did not start with the ball. It started with the fear of being forgotten. For Vietnamese football, that fear is already here.