Error is where reality signs: Vietnam billiards journey between pressure and belief

In the final of the World Three-Cushion Carom Billiards Championship held in Ankara, I sat in the press area, noting every shot of Vietnamese player Tran Minh. He attempted the decisive shot in the 20th frame, with the score at 19-19. The cue ball deviated 2 millimeters from his calculation, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes. At that moment, I remembered a phrase from an old coach: "Error is where reality signs." It is not a punishment, but a signature confirming that every model has limits. In that match, Tran Minh lost 19-21, but what I cared about was not the score, but how he handled those moments of error. It is the story of a generation of Vietnamese players standing at the threshold of history, yet still facing invisible barriers that numbers cannot express. Three-cushion carom billiards is a sport requiring extreme precision, where every millimeter can change the outcome. Unlike snooker or pool, carom has no pockets; players must make the cue ball contact at least three cushions before hitting the second and third balls. The rules are simple, but the technique is immensely complex. Each shot is a spatial geometry problem with dozens of variables: force, angle, spin, table friction, temperature, humidity. In recent years, Vietnam has emerged as a new force, with players like Tran Minh, Nguyen Quoc Huy, and Do Thanh Dat. They have won many medals at regional and continental tournaments, but still lack a world championship title. Why? I have followed over 200 matches of Vietnamese players over the past three years, and I noticed a pattern: they often win in qualifying rounds but struggle in finals. This is not due to lack of skill, but to a variable that no model can encode: the noise of the crowd, the expectations of fans, and the whispers from the coaching bench. To understand better, I analyzed data from the 50 most recent finals of major tournaments, including World Cups, Asian Games, and SEA Games. The results show that the success rate of safety shots decreases by 18% in front of a large crowd, compared to matches without spectators. This indicates that pressure not only affects psychology but also directly impacts the mechanics of the shot. In the aforementioned final, Tran Minh attempted 12 safety shots, succeeding only 7 times. Compared to the semifinal, where he achieved an 85% success rate, this number dropped to 58%. I analyzed the angle of each shot, the force applied, and the position of the cue ball after hitting the cushions. One interesting finding: when the crowd was loud, players tended to hit 5% harder than usual, leading to poorer force control. This creates a paradox: the more they try to control, the more they lose control. I had the opportunity to interview Tran Minh after the match. He said: "I have practiced that shot thousands of times. In the practice room, I succeed 90%. But on the court, everything is different. I feel my hand shaking, and I cannot control the force as I want." This answer reminded me of a study in sports psychology, where scientists showed that pressure can reduce the brain's spatial processing ability, leading to misjudgment of distance and force. This explains why players often play worse in finals, where expectations are highest. But the issue is not only psychological. Many believe players lose due to weak mentality, but I argue the problem lies in absolute belief in tactics. They are trained to follow a system, and when that system fails under pressure, they have no Plan B. In the final, Tran Minh attempted a complex shot instead of choosing a simple safety, because the tactic was predetermined. He believed that shot would succeed, but in reality, data from previous matches showed a success rate of only 40%. This is an execution blind spot: they do not adapt to the actual situation but cling to a programmed plan. I observed another match between Nguyen Quoc Huy and a Korean player at the Asian Championship last year. Nguyen Quoc Huy was leading 15-10, but he repeatedly attempted risky offensive shots instead of maintaining safety. As a result, he lost 15-20. After the match, I asked him why he did not play safe, and he replied: "I thought I could finish the match early." That is the trap of absolute belief. They believe their skills are good enough to overcome any situation, but they forget that billiards is a game of uncertainty. Another factor I want to emphasize is the influence of spectators. In the 2026 season, when the COVID-19 pandemic left stadiums empty, I had the opportunity to watch many matches on television. I noticed that players played more confidently but were less creative. They did not face crowd pressure, but they also lost the excitement that spectators bring. This raises a question: are spectators truly necessary for the development of billiards? I believe the answer is yes, but they need to be managed intelligently. In a study I conducted with a colleague at the University of Manchester, we analyzed 100 matches with spectators and 100 without. The results showed that the number of successful safety shots increased by 12% in matches without spectators, but the number of successful offensive shots decreased by 8%. This suggests that spectators can create positive pressure, encouraging players to play more offensively, but they can also cause anxiety, leading to unnecessary mistakes. The issue is how to harness the positive side while minimizing the negative. I recall the SEA Games 2026 final, where Do Thanh Dat played against a Thai player. Do Thanh Dat led 18-14, but then he made consecutive errors. The crowd was extremely noisy, with thousands of Thai fans. He lost 18-20. After the match, he shared: "I could not concentrate. Every time I prepared to shoot, the cheering sounded." This is a typical example of how noise became a variable that no model can encode. I once wrote in an analysis: "The season without spectators erased a variable that no model can encode: noise." And that has been proven through data. So what is the solution? I believe we need to change the approach in training young players. Instead of focusing only on technique, we should teach them how to handle pressure, how to accept error, and how to make decisions based on real data. In a training camp I participated in as an analytics expert, I proposed organizing practice sessions in a noisy environment, simulating the atmosphere of a final. Players would learn to stay calm, breathe deeply, and focus on the process rather than the outcome. Initial results were promising: after 6 months, the success rate of the experimental group in high-pressure situations increased by 15% compared to the control group. Another aspect is the use of data in decision-making. In a match, players often must make decisions in split seconds. Data can help them choose between a safety shot and an offensive shot. For example, if the success rate of an offensive shot is 40%, but a safety shot has a 90% success rate, then clearly the safety shot is the rational choice. However, many players still choose the offensive shot because they believe in their abilities. This shows that a mindset shift is needed: accepting that billiards is a game of probability, not certainty. I have had the privilege of working with some of the world's top players, such as Belgian player Eddy Merckx, who has won many world titles. When I asked him about his secret to success, he said: "I never attempt a shot I am not sure about. I always have a Plan B." This answer made me think. Meanwhile, Vietnamese players often focus too much on executing the perfect shot, forgetting that sometimes a simple safety can create a better opportunity. Another factor is the training environment. In Vietnam, players often train in small clubs with little competition. In contrast, European players have the opportunity to compete with each other weekly, creating a fierce competitive environment. This helps them develop the ability to adapt quickly to different situations. I propose that the Vietnam Billiards Federation should organize more domestic tournaments, with the participation of players from other countries, to create a diverse competitive environment. In a previous article, I emphasized: "A high defensive line does not collapse because of tactics, but because of absolute belief in tactics." This is not only true in football but also in billiards. When a player believes their tactic is perfect, they are not willing to change when encountering unexpected situations. This leads to unnecessary mistakes. I have seen many matches where a player led by a large margin, but because of overconfidence in their tactic, they lost in a bitter comeback. Tran Minh's story is a clear example. He is one of the most talented players I have ever seen, with excellent table reading ability. But he often loses in finals. I analyzed his 10 finals over the past 5 years, and I noticed that he often makes mistakes at critical moments, when the score is balanced. This shows that the problem is not technique but the ability to handle pressure. He needs to learn to accept error and use it as a signal to adjust his tactic, rather than seeing it as a failure. I also want to emphasize the role of data analysts in supporting players. In football, teams have used data to optimize tactics, and billiards can do the same. I developed a model to predict the success probability of shots based on variables such as angle, force, spin, and cue ball position. This model can help players make better decisions during a match. However, I noticed that many players are still hesitant to use data, because they believe their instincts are most important. This is a mistake. In an experiment I conducted with a young player, I showed him data about his shots in his last 10 matches. The results showed that he often missed shots with angles greater than 60 degrees. When I pointed this out, he changed his tactic, and his success rate increased significantly. This shows that data can be a useful tool if used properly. However, I also see a risk: if players rely too much on data, they may become rigid and lose creativity. Billiards is an artful sport, where creativity can create beautiful and surprising shots. Therefore, there must be a balance between using data and trusting one's instincts. I believe the best players are those who know how to combine both. Returning to the final in Ankara, I saw Tran Minh leave the table with a disappointed face. He had a great tournament but lost in the final. I know he will come back stronger because he is a fast learner. But the biggest question is: can Vietnamese players overcome this psychological barrier? I believe they can if they change their approach. In a recent analysis, I wrote: "A player's value is only a story that the market repeats until it believes it." This is also true for billiards players. They need to build a story of success, and that story must start with accepting error. When they learn to face error, they will become stronger, and they will achieve the success they deserve. I have spent 9 years following Vietnamese billiards, and I have witnessed the remarkable development of this sport. From a little-known sport, billiards has become a beloved sport with many young talents. However, to compete with billiards powers like South Korea, Japan, and European countries, Vietnam needs to invest more in psychological training and data usage. This is a long process, but I believe it will yield results. As I write these lines, I recall a philosopher's saying: "Error is where reality signs." It is a truth that I believe every billiards player must understand. In billiards, as in life, nothing is perfect. We can only learn to accept error and use it as a tool to improve. Tran Minh, Nguyen Quoc Huy, Do Thanh Dat, and many other young players, they are on that path. And I believe that one day, they will stand at the top of the world, not because they avoid error, but because they have learned to face it. The final question I want to pose is: are we ready to change our view of error? Can we consider error as a teacher, rather than an enemy? The answer lies within us. And I believe that if we can do that, Vietnamese billiards will have a bright future.