Vietnamese Billiards Trapped in 'N/A': Lessons on Data Transparency

Recently, a so-called “in-depth billiards report” caused a stir among observers when all of its fields were marked “N/A – insufficient information.” No player names, no match statistics, no tournament context. What is notable is that this report did not come from an amateur blog but from a seemingly systematic procedure with a rigid structure. That emptiness, once again, paints a familiar picture for sports journalists in Vietnam: we are suffering from a severe lack of data, and we often make excuses that “lack of numbers” is acceptable. Vietnam’s billiards industry, especially carom 3-cushion, is at a rarely seen peak. Player Tran Quyet Chien, born in 2026 in Hanoi, has twice won the World Championship, in 2026 and 2026, becoming the first Vietnamese to do so. More recently, at the 2026 World Cup, he reached the semi-finals. Chien’s achievements have brought more attention to the sport, but that does not mean our system has sufficient data to serve professional analysis. Let us try a simple question: how many Vietnamese players are in the world top 100 across the three main disciplines (carom, 9-ball pool, snooker)? For a responsible analyst, the answer needs to be cited from the World Confederation of Billiards Sports (WCBS) or the world carom association (UMB). But in Vietnam, such numbers barely exist in any unified report. Every news site collects in its own way, each club publishes differently, and domestic tournaments have no central data authority. I recall a detail from 2026, when Tran Quyet Chien successfully defended his world title. Many articles wrote that he had reached 50 century breaks that season – that number was quoted from a foreign website. But when I cross-checked with UMB rankings, I could not find any official Vietnamese source confirming that. This story shows that even the achievements of the world number one still lack a reliable storage system. There is a historical reason. Billiards was once considered a game associated with gambling and social vices, so for decades it was not properly invested in. Clubs operated on a small scale, self-producing athletes without clear training contracts. When the movement developed strongly from 2026 onward, the specialized billiards media also began forming but lacked personnel with data analysis skills. As a result, analytical articles often fall into one of two types: either emotional match reports or unverified copying from foreign sources. The aforementioned “N/A” report can be seen as a perfect metaphor for this disease. It shows that even when a person has a methodology – asking about numbers, cross-referencing sources, setting goals – the result becomes meaningless if the “raw material” is absent. Many Vietnamese sports reporters, when lacking data, choose to write vague phrases like “the player is in good form” or “is considered a heavy favorite” without any supporting numbers. This creates a culture of “verbal fallacies,” making readers increasingly distrustful of analytical pieces. Conversely, there is an argument that refraining from making judgments when data is insufficient is a positive attitude. A colleague of mine once said: “Better not to write than to write wrongly.” That statement is partly true because it shows respect for the craft. But the issue is, while waiting for complete data, we rarely actively build it. Sports management agencies have no incentive to publish details; domestic tournaments occasionally organize then quietly delete results from websites. This prolonged silence traps analysts in a vicious cycle: no data to analyze, and because nobody analyzes, there is no call to build data. To break the cycle, systemic change is needed. Federations must mandate the periodic publication of match results according to international standards, at least regarding indicators like average points, winning percentage, and number of big breaks. Clubs must systematically store athlete records. Media, instead of simply waiting for ready-made data, can work with sports universities to build open data repositories. This is not a fantasy; even in Vietnam, football federations have done this successfully. The Vietnam Football Federation (VFF) has long had a statistics system for V-League, though not perfect, but it allows analysts to access data on goals, cards, passes. A clear example of the benefits of transparent data can be seen in tennis’s ATP Tour. Thanks to open data systems, hundreds of analysts worldwide can create creative insights, from analyzing a player’s weaknesses on specific surfaces to predicting match durations. Billiards can do the same: with each shot, each distance between cue ball and object ball, viewers can understand a player’s tactics. But all of that will only exist if we decide to build data from today. In my journalism career, I have seen too many analyses abandoned halfway simply because no verifiable numbers could be found. In 2026, when I mispronounced Martin Škrtel’s name during a live broadcast, I did not blame the incident; instead, I spent a month building my own pronunciation guide for player names. The lesson: if you lack tools, create your own. Billiards writers should do the same. If there is no central data system, start with personal notes: every match you watch, every number you verify from a reliable source, can become the foundation for a larger database. The truth is, an analysis full of “N/A” is not an analysis. It is an indictment of the laziness of the entire system. But if we turn it into a wake-up call, a push to start changing, then its value becomes enormous. Imagine a day when a billiards writer in Vietnam can open a website, type a player’s name, and receive a full list of his matches for the year – with number of breaks over 50, long-shot success percentage, etc. That will be the day Vietnamese sports media can truly call itself “analytical” rather than just emotional commentary. Some will say that is too far-fetched. But look at the long journey of Vietnamese billiards: from a stigmatized game to having a player ranked first in the world. If we have achieved the impossible on the table, why not dare to think about a transparent data system for the sport itself? Answering that question requires every writer to reflect: who are we writing for, and how can our words stand the test of time if they are not supported by accurate numbers? “I open the contract before I open my mouth” – that is a principle that a responsible journalist, in any field, should learn. When data is not available, say it is not available. There is nothing shameful about that. What is more shameful is when data is there, but we do not have the patience to dig deep, and end up writing an empty analysis full of “N/A.” Vietnamese billiards has made miraculous strides on the table. Perhaps it is time for similar strides to happen on paper – and in our databases.