Coach Moriyasu's Home Farewell with Sold-Out Stadium: Lessons from Japan for Vietnamese Football

I have stood in many stadiums in my life as a journalist. From the creaking stands of Vietnamese provincial stadiums to the great theaters of European football. But one thing about Japanese football has always fascinated me: they turn a friendly match into a national event. On September 30, the Japan Football Association (JFA) announced that tickets for the October 5 match at Japan National Stadium had completely sold out. No more gate sales. No empty seats. All 67,750 seats were taken, just to watch Japan play Ecuador in a friendly as part of the Kirin Cup — a four-team, knockout-format tournament with two matches played on the same day. What makes it more special: this is considered head coach Hajime Moriyasu's last domestic match.

The backdrop of this match is not simply a routine friendly. After the 2026 World Cup qualifiers, Japan gathered for the October FIFA Days window and chose a four-team Kirin Cup format. In the first semifinal, Ecuador played against New Zealand or Panama — the winner would face Japan in the other match. This is a compressed format: two matches on the same day at the same stadium, Ecuador at 3:30 PM, Japan at 7:30 PM. As a beat reporter who has followed teams, I immediately see the difference between how Japan organizes football and how we do it. They are not selling a match. They are selling a festival.

The figure of 67,750 is not the only remarkable number in this story. According to media reports, Japan's match against Brazil at the same National Stadium in 2026 attracted 63,638 spectators. This J.League season, the match between Yokohama F. Marinos and Kashima Antlers drew 63,960 — nearly equal to the national team's match against Brazil, a five-time World Cup champion. If the October 5 match fills all 67,750 seats, it will set a new National Stadium record since its renovation for the Tokyo 2026 Olympics. When a friendly with no confirmed opponent (whether New Zealand or Panama) sells out in advance, it proves Japanese fans are buying tickets to watch their national team, not to see opposing stars. When Ecuador — a respected side but not Brazil or Argentina — is the opposition and tickets still sell out, that is a signal of a mature football market. I remember in 2026, when I followed SHB Da Nang in V-League, some matches drew only a few thousand spectators. No one in Vietnam has sold out a national team friendly against a mid-tier South American side. We are still far away.

In terms of media structure, this is the point I want to analyze carefully. This match is not only broadcast on TV Asahi — the national broadcaster — but also streamed simultaneously on TVer, ABEMA, DAZN, and even YouTube for the Ecuador match. This creates a multi-layered distribution ecosystem: free-to-air TV covers the mass audience, paid streaming platforms exploit digital viewers, and YouTube maintains access to young audiences. Based on my experience following matches in Vietnam, I notice that matches of the Vietnam national team usually have only one or two broadcast rights holders, without this kind of multi-platform distribution. Japanese football operates like a media business, where each platform serves a different audience segment and maximizes revenue from multiple sources. When I stood at Hoa Xuan training ground in 2026 and watched young colleagues use Facebook Live to interview players, I realized that the digital media revolution would change how we consume football. Japan has done this systematically: they are not just selling tickets, they are selling a multi-channel experience package.

The financial side behind this event is also a signal. A sold-out match at a 67,750-seat stadium means maximum ticket revenue for the JFA for this fixture. Combined with four broadcast and streaming partners, the money this match generates for the Japan Football Association is substantial. Not to mention title sponsor Kirin and the Adidas kit sponsorship deal, which was embedded in Japanese media coverage as part of a promotional campaign. When I analyze the financial situation of Vietnamese clubs, I see that we still depend heavily on wealthy owners' money, while the JFA has built a sustainable commercial value chain from the national team. Vietnamese football needs to learn this: the national team is not a football team, it is a brand.

However, there is a contrarian angle that many may miss. Japanese media is attaching this story to the "farewell match of Coach Moriyasu" narrative. Fans are led to believe they are coming to the stadium to honor a coach who led the national team through multiple World Cups. But in reality, I believe most spectators buy tickets because of the Japanese national team brand, because of the event itself, because of the experience of living in a festival atmosphere at National Stadium. The farewell story is just a seasoning layer. I have seen the same thing in many other football cultures: when a legend departs, the stadium fills not because people love that legend, but because they love the team and want to be part of a historic moment. This is a lesson I have learned after more than 40 years in this profession: crowds come for the story, but they stay for the brand. If Coach Moriyasu departs, the bigger question is not who will replace him, but whether the JFA can maintain this commercial appeal when there is no longer a farewell story to sell.

Looking at the big picture, I see a signal that Vietnamese football needs to seriously consider. Our My Dinh Stadium has a capacity of over 40,000, but many Vietnam national team matches in international friendlies struggle with attendance unless the opponent is Thailand, Malaysia, or a big-name team. Vietnamese fans are passionate, but they buy tickets based on the opponent's reputation. Japanese fans are different — they buy tickets to watch their team play, regardless of the opponent. This is the cultural difference between a mature football nation and a developing one.

The story in the post-match press conference on October 5 will matter more than what happens on the pitch. If Moriyasu officially confirms his departure, the JFA will enter a leadership transition. If he only says "last home match of this cycle," things will be different. I have witnessed many coaching transitions in Vietnamese football and I know one truth: most teams lose their development momentum not because they choose the wrong replacement, but because they lack a clear succession plan. If the JFA does not prepare a contingency, they will face a crisis of fan confidence. But seeing how they manage the ticket-selling process, I believe they already have a plan for this.

One more signal I want to emphasize: Ecuador vs New Zealand or Panama kicks off at 3:30 PM and Japan at 7:30 PM on the same day. This means fans arrive at the stadium in the early afternoon and stay until evening. This is a true football festival, designed to maximize the time fans spend at the stadium — driving revenue from food, drinks, and merchandise. From the perspective of a sports media professional, I see that Japanese organizers have calculated spectator consumption behavior very carefully. In Vietnam, we have not achieved this even at the club level.

When I watch recordings of Japan national team matches over the years, I realize that Japan's football strength does not come from a golden generation of players. It comes from consistency in building the football ecosystem: youth academies, stadium infrastructure, media and commercial systems. A sold-out friendly match is the result of 30 years of brand building. We are watching a national team, but in fact we are watching a model of modern football governance.

I still remember standing at the 2026 World Cup draw in Moscow, watching Japanese journalists work systematically while some of my Vietnamese colleagues ran around chaotically. The difference lies in the system. And that system will be tested again on October 5. When Japan National Stadium is packed with 67,750 people watching the home team play Ecuador — a friendly — that is the moment we should ask ourselves: when will Vietnamese football sell out My Dinh Stadium for a friendly without an attractive opponent? The answer lies in how we operate our system, not in the talent on the pitch. Our team can create miracles, but miracles cannot replace a sustainable system. The Japanese understood this a long time ago.