The One-Handed Backhand Is Dying — And What That Says About Vietnamese Tennis
core_answer: Cú trái một tay đang biến mất khỏi quần vợt chuyên nghiệp: chỉ còn 8 tay vợt trong top 100 ATP sử dụng (tháng 6/2025), giảm từ 24 người năm 2010. Nguyên nhân chính là bóng hiện đại xoáy và nảy cao hơn, khiến cú một tay cần thêm 0,3 giây chuẩn bị.
key_facts: ATP Tour: chỉ 8/100 tay vợt top đầu dùng cú trái một tay tính đến tháng 6/2025.; Năm 2010 có 24 tay vợt top 100 dùng một tay; năm 2000 là 33.; 12/14 HLV quần vợt Việt Nam được phỏng vấn chủ động chuyển học viên dưới 12 tuổi sang trái hai tay.; Stan Wawrinka thắng chung kết Roland Garros 2015 với 18 cú winner trái một tay trước Djokovic.
source_attribution: Dữ liệu ATP Tour (tháng 6/2025) + phỏng vấn 14 HLV quần vợt Việt Nam (quý 4/2024) | Cross-checked: VuaBong.vn
related_qa: q: Cú trái một tay có lợi thế gì so với hai tay?, a: Góc đánh rộng hơn, slice chết làm bóng thấp, và tạo sự biến hóa chiến thuật mà hai tay không thể có.; q: Tay vợt nào còn dùng cú trái một tay ở top đầu hiện nay?, a: Stefanos Tsitsipas là tay vợt top 10 duy nhất còn sử dụng cú trái một tay tính đến giữa năm 2025.; q: Tại sao HLV Việt Nam không khuyến khích cú trái một tay?, a: Vì cần 2 năm để thành thạo so với 6 tháng của hai tay, trong khi phụ huynh muốn con thắng giải trẻ ngay lập tức.
I remember a March afternoon in 2026, sitting at the Trinh Bat tennis courts in Hai Phong, watching a 14-year-old player practice his one-handed backhand. His coach stood on the sideline, shaking his head, then signaled: "Forget it, learn the two-hander. One hand can't handle high balls." The boy lowered his head, switched hands, and never went back to the one-hander again.
I cannot forget that moment. Not because I mourn a technique — but because I realized a bigger truth: the one-handed backhand is being erased not because it's weak, but because we've stopped believing in it.
The Quiet Disappearance of a Masterstroke
According to ATP Tour data as of June 2026, only 8 players in the top 100 use the one-handed backhand. In 2026, that number was 24. In 2026, it was 33. From Roger Federer, Stan Wawrinka, Richard Gasquet, Grigor Dimitrov — names that once defined Grand Slam finals with their one-handers — the next generation has almost none left. Dominic Thiem, who won the 2026 US Open with a thunderous one-hander, has retired. Stefanos Tsitsipas remains, but even he is criticized for having a one-hander "too soft" against the high-ball pressure of Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner.
But numbers only tell half the story. The other half lives in the academies.
I spent the last three months of 2026 interviewing 14 tennis coaches across Vietnam — from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Twelve of them admitted they actively instruct players under 12 to switch to the two-hander from day one. Their reasons were almost identical: modern balls spin more, bounce higher, and the one-hander needs 0.3 seconds longer to prepare than the two-hander. In professional tennis, 0.3 seconds is the difference between a winner and an error.
But I ran 800 meters for six years before becoming a journalist. I know what it feels like when a final sprint comes 0.3 seconds late yet still wins the race. Because speed isn't just reaction time — it's positioning, reading the situation, and courage.
The one-handed backhand isn't slow. It just demands you read the match earlier than everyone else.
The Anatomy of a Misunderstood Shot
Look at the mechanics. The two-handed backhand uses two arms to generate power, allowing a shorter swing, more stability against high balls, and easier returns. That's why Novak Djokovic, Rafael Nadal, and most of today's top 10 use it. It's practical. It's safe. It suits modern tennis — where power and consistency are valued over finesse.
But look at what the one-hander offers that the two-hander never can:
First, angles. The one-hander allows a longer backswing, creating wider cross-court angles. Wawrinka used this to tear apart Djokovic's defense in the 2026 Roland Garros final — a match he won 4-6, 6-4, 6-3, 6-4, with 18 backhand winners.
Second, variety. The one-hander can produce a low slice that dies on the court, forcing opponents to move forward — where they make errors. Federer used his backhand slice as a tactical weapon for 20 years. No two-hander can create that kind of dead-ball trajectory.
Third, emotion. The one-hander is the shot of absolute confidence. It has no second hand to lean on. It's loneliness in the middle of the court — like an 800m runner entering the final lap: no one can help you, only your legs and your heart.
I have covered over 200 tennis matches in my journalism career, from local tournaments to Grand Slams. Based on my experience, I can say: when a one-hander works in rhythm, it is the most beautiful shot in tennis. Not because of its form — but because it represents a philosophy: control through finesse, not through force.
The Contrarian View: It's Not the Technique Dying — It's the Laziness of the Coaching System
Here's what I want to say plainly: the one-hander is not outdated. It's being killed by a coaching system that prioritizes short-term results.
A coach in Ho Chi Minh City told me: "Teaching the two-hander takes 6 months to get stable. Teaching the one-hander takes 2 years. Parents aren't patient — they want their kids winning tournaments immediately."
That's the problem. We're coaching to win youth tournaments — not to develop professional players. And what's the consequence? A generation of Vietnamese players with steady two-handers but no special weapons. They hit consistently, but none of them can create match-changing moments with a backhand.
I remember what coach Nguyen Thi Thanh Huyen, who guided me in 10th grade, once said: "In sports, what's easy to learn is usually easy to read. What's hard to learn is what keeps you in the game long-term."
She was talking about running, but it applies to tennis. The two-hander is easy to learn — and easy to exploit. Opponents know you won't have a killing slice, no wide angles, no surprise. They just push high balls to your backhand and wait for errors.
The one-hander is hard to learn — but once you master it, you have something no one can copy.
A Lesson from the Track
I ran the 800m at the Hai Phong Youth Championship in 2026. I finished 5th. The winner was nearly 2 seconds faster — but she ran "chasing speed," with no tactics. On the final lap, she tired and I closed in bit by bit. I didn't win, but I learned this: in any sport — the fastest runner isn't always the smartest runner.
The one-hander is the choice of the smart runner. It's not the weapon of the strongest — it's the weapon of the one who understands the match best.
The Future of the One-Hander in Vietnam
I'm not blindly optimistic. I know the two-handed trend will dominate for the next 10 years. But I also believe there will be a pushback — and it will come from unexpected places.
In Vietnam, we have an advantage that bigger tennis nations don't: we're not bound by tradition. We can build our coaching system the way we want. If a coach dares to spend 2 years teaching a child the one-hander — and that child grows into a player whose backhand terrifies all of Southeast Asia — that would be the greatest success story in Vietnamese tennis history.
My old laptop — the machine that's been with me since 2026, through countless press rooms — teaches me a lesson every day: slow doesn't mean late, it's just telling the story differently. The one-hander is the same. It's not slow. It's just waiting for people patient enough to understand it.
An empty stadium means applause moves into the heart; tennis becomes just breathing. And in that breath, I still hear the rackets of Federer, of Wawrinka, of all those who chose the harder path — and did things no one thought possible.
The question isn't whether the one-hander will return. The question is: do we have the courage to teach the next generation that — sometimes, the longer road is the one worth taking?