Fukuoka 2026: Japan and the Fateful Race for the Los Angeles 2028 Olympic Berth

Fukuoka, Japan — where the stadium lights are about to be turned on for a tournament they call an Olympic qualifier. But I am not here to look at numbers. I am here to look at the hidden corners. When I was young, I used to think sports were about numbers — scores, rankings, medals. But after nearly half a century standing between the track and the stands, I know that a record does not belong to one person alone. And a tournament is not just a leaderboard. The 2026 AVC Men's Volleyball Asian Championship is about to begin in Fukuoka, Japan. This is not just an ordinary tournament — it is a World Cup qualifier, and more importantly, the starting point of the race for Asia's men's volleyball berth at the Los Angeles 2028 Olympic Games. Japan, as the defending champion, enters the tournament as the number one contender. They stand sixth in the FIVB World Ranking — the highest position among all Asian Volleyball Confederation (AVC) teams. They are the most decorated team in the history of the competition with 10 golds, 4 silvers, and 4 bronzes. They have medaled at each of the three most recent editions of the continental championship. And they are the only AVC team to have ever triumphed as men's volleyball Olympic champions — at Munich 2026. But those numbers, however impressive, cannot tell the story of the people behind them. I remember the summer of 2026, when I sat in a small rented room in Moscow, rewatching the match between Croatia and Argentina. I had misidentified Luka Modric's position, and was mocked by the online community for a whole week. But on the morning of the fifth day, I called my editor and said: "Modric is not running cover for the center-back. He is a refugee of the Yugoslav war, carrying the pain of a broken homeland onto the pitch. Every pass is a reclaiming of childhood." That is the lesson I have carried with me ever since: tactics are a reflection of human fate. And Japanese volleyball is no different. To understand why Japan dominates Asian volleyball, we cannot just look at the FIVB ranking. We must look at how this country builds its volleyball foundation from the roots. From high schools with numerous volleyball clubs, from the All-Japan High School Volleyball Tournament — one of the most media-covered youth sports events in the country — to the professional V.League system with its methodical investment. Japan did not accidentally win 10 Asian gold medals. They have a volleyball ecosystem where every generation of players is trained in a fiercely competitive yet organized environment. This creates a continuous talent pipeline that never runs dry. Looking at Japan's group in this year's tournament — Pool A alongside Bahrain, Oman, and Australia — the gap in class is evident. Bahrain and Oman are developing teams with modest international histories. Australia, despite winning the Asian Championship in 2026, is in a rebuilding phase and no longer holds its former status. But that very gap raises a bigger question: Is Japan's dominance reducing the competitiveness of Asian volleyball? This is a question I have pondered deeply in recent years. When a team is too strong for the rest of the region, matches become predictable, and audience interest may decline. But on the other hand, the presence of a strong team also creates a benchmark for others to strive toward. I once wrote: "People turn on stadium lights to watch football; I turn on lights to see the hidden corners." The same applies to volleyball. When all the lights shine on Japan, I want to look at the smaller teams — the janitors cleaning the court, the bench players sitting on the sidelines, the coaches trying to build something from nothing. Bahrain, for instance. This team has made significant strides over the past decade. They do not have Japan's glorious history, but they have ambition. And in sports, ambition sometimes matters more than tradition. Oman is the same. A young team, learning from every match. They may not advance past the group stage, but every match against Japan is a valuable lesson. Australia, with their 2026 championship, is a different story. They were once a force in Asian volleyball, but their decline in recent years raises questions about the sustainability of volleyball development programs in that country. Can they reclaim their former status? But back to Japan. What impresses me most about Japanese volleyball is not the medal count, but how they maintain stability across generations. While many other Asian teams go through cycles of rise and fall — champion then decline, rebuild then decline again — Japan remains steadfast at the top. This is not accidental. It comes from a long-term development philosophy, from investing in youth training, from building a volleyball culture deeply embedded in society. In Japan, volleyball is not just a sport — it is part of cultural identity, especially women's volleyball. But men's volleyball also benefits from this foundation. In the 2026 VNL, Japan finished fourth — an encouraging result but also showing they still have a gap with the top three teams in the world. This raises the question: Is Japan's dominance in Asia masking their weaknesses on the international stage? This is a perspective I want to explore. When a team is too strong for its region, it may not be properly challenged. Asian matches may not adequately prepare them for opponents like Poland, France, or Italy on the world stage. But on the other hand, dominance in Asia also builds confidence. And in sports, confidence is a powerful weapon. I once wrote: "Every contract is a farewell, every unveiling ceremony is a promise of rebirth." The same applies to national teams. Every tournament is a farewell to the past and a promise for the future. This year's Asian Championship is especially important because it is a World Cup qualifier. This means teams are not just playing for the title, but for a spot in a world tournament. This pressure can create surprises. And all matches will be streamed live on VBTV. This has significant implications for the development of Asian volleyball. When matches are broadcast widely, audience interest grows, commercial value increases, and sponsors begin to take notice. I have witnessed the development of Asian volleyball over many decades. From the early days when only a few teams were strong, to now when more and more teams can compete. This development did not come from Japan alone, but from the efforts of all nations in the region. But there is no denying that Japan is the center of Asian volleyball. They are the only team in the region to have won Olympic gold. They are the most decorated team in Asian Championship history. And they have home advantage in Fukuoka. Home advantage in volleyball is enormous. Not just because of crowd support, but because of not having to travel far, not having to adapt to new time zones, not having to face cultural and culinary differences. These factors, though small, can make a difference in tight matches. But I also want to look at the other side of the issue. Does home advantage create too much pressure? When you are expected to win, when all eyes are on you, can you play with the necessary ease? This is a question I have thought about a lot. In my career, I have witnessed many heavily favored teams fail under pressure. And I have also witnessed underdogs rise above all expectations. Volleyball is a team sport. Unlike basketball, where one star can make a huge difference, volleyball requires perfect coordination of six players on the court. A weakness at any position can be exploited. This means Japan's dominance comes not just from individual talent, but from the synchronization of the entire team. And this synchronization comes from long-term training, from roster stability, from a consistent coaching philosophy. Looking at history, Japan has medaled at all three most recent Asian Championships. This shows they are not just strong at one moment, but maintain stability over many years. This is something few other Asian teams can do. But the biggest question remains: Will this dominance continue? And is it good for Asian volleyball? I believe the answer lies in how we look at the problem. If we only look at results, Japan's dominance may make the tournament boring. But if we look at the process, at the development of other teams, at the lessons they learn from playing against Japan, then this dominance has tremendous value. I once wrote: "The match ends, but the stands still echo in me like a private space." For me, every tournament leaves its own resonance. And this year's Asian Championship, I believe, will be no exception. Fukuoka will witness the first matches of the race for the Los Angeles 2028 Olympic berth. And whatever the results, what happens on the court will be stories about people, about aspirations, about perseverance. Because ultimately, sports are not just about winning. They are about the people behind every spike, every dig, every drop of sweat on the court. And that is what I have always been looking for — the stories that television cannot capture. When I stand before the Fukuoka arena, before the tournament begins, I see workers checking the net, volunteers arranging seats, reporters rushing around. And I realize that this tournament does not belong only to Japan. It belongs to everyone who came here with a dream. The white nights of Moscow taught me that football never turns off its lights. And volleyball is the same. Whatever the results, whoever wins, the flame of this sport will continue to burn. Because in Asia, volleyball is not just a game — it is a belief. And that belief, as I have learned after nearly half a century of observation, is something that never turns off its lights.