AVC 2026 Semifinals: Australia's Cold Steel, Korea's Comeback, and China's 17 Blocks Going Home

The clock on my wall read 2:17 a.m. on September 10, 2026. The beer on the table had gone flat long before, and the fourth set between Korea and China still refused to end. 29-27. When Im Donghyeok drove the ball cross-court and it clipped the line, I shouted loud enough that the neighbour downstairs banged on the ceiling. A 60-year-old fan can still run 100 metres after a winning point — that fan is me.

Two hours earlier, in another window on my screen, Australia had closed out its quarterfinal against Thailand in straight sets: 25-22, 26-24, 25-19. No noise. No drama. Just a coldness that made me rewind the recording a third time to work out where Thailand had lost itself.

A tournament carrying the weight of a four-year cycle

The 2026 Asian Men's Volleyball Championship is entering its decisive phase in Japan. This is a pre-Olympic year. The champion takes a direct ticket to Los Angeles 2028; the top three earn places at the 2027 World Cup. Each set in the quarterfinals therefore carries the weight of a full four-year cycle.

Thailand arrived in the quarterfinals as pool winners. Australia arrived unbeaten. China had beaten Korea in pool play in 2026, and most experts still rated China slightly ahead before the first serve. Korea had failed to reach the semifinals in two consecutive editions. Three different stories, packed into one night, two matches.

I received the official scoresheet from the organisers once the match had ended. Forty-four years in this job have taught me one thing: a scoresheet tells half the story, and the other half lives in the balls nobody writes down.

Australia and a frightening kind of silence

Lorenzo Pope scored 17 points, Lincoln Williams 15. Those two attackers carried most of Australia's firepower, but what held my attention was the way they controlled the rhythm in the second set.

The second set finished 26-24. Thailand had at least two chances to level it, and both times the reception broke down. Based on my experience of watching these matches, when a pool winner loses the second set that way, it usually loses the third as well. Thailand did, 19-25.

Australia won with the least glamorous version of volleyball there is: stability in serve reception and patience in long rallies. They do not own a spectacular blocking wall like China's. They simply refuse to beat themselves, and in knockout volleyball that is already a weapon.

Korea come back, China hug an empty block

The first set between Korea and China ended 17-25. Had I turned off the screen there, I would have gone to bed and missed the best match of the tournament so far.

Korea won three sets in a row: 25-21, 25-22, 29-27. Im Donghyeok and Heo scored 21 points each. Together, those two attackers accounted for nearly half of the team's total points, which speaks both to their efficiency and to a gap nobody has patched yet.

Across the net, Li Yongzhen and Wang scored 16 points each. China recorded 17 blocks, the highest tally of the tournament to that point. In any competition, 17 blocks in a single match is the kind of number that makes a crowd stand up and applaud.

And they lost.

This is where I want to linger, because it runs against instinct. Modern volleyball has taught viewers that blocking is the measure of strength. But a block is one link in a chain. After a successful block, a team still has to convert defence into transition attack, and if serve reception and transition efficiency sit at an average level, every block becomes a lone brick in an empty field.

China won the first set with physical power in the middle. Korea won the next three with speed on the wings and composure at the decisive moments. When the fourth set stretched to 29-27, volleyball stopped being measured in height and started being measured by who dared to take the last swing. Korea dared. China hesitated for half a beat, and half a beat was enough to bend their season in another direction.

Three risks I can see

The first belongs to Korea. Two attackers carrying nearly half the points is the signature of a team without a second option. If a semifinal opponent shuts down Im Donghyeok, Korea need a third attacking outlet they have not yet proved they possess. Losing the first set 17-25 was a picture of exactly that scenario.

The second concerns fitness. While Korea ground through four high-tempo sets, Australia won in three and gained extra recovery time. At continental level, a rest day is sometimes worth more than a block.

The third I need to state plainly, because I hold myself to a two-source rule for any single event. The preliminary post-match report noted that both Australia and Korea would face Iran in the semifinals, which is impossible inside one bracket. Iran beat Chinese Taipei. Japan beat India. I am waiting for official confirmation from the organisers before writing further. One wrong name in a bracket is enough to send a whole analysis off course, and at 60 I no longer have time to rewrite what could have been checked in three minutes.

The Asian picture is shifting

Zooming out, this year's quarterfinals show that the old order of Asian men's volleyball is wobbling in the middle of the table. Japan and Iran remain at the top, but the gap between the leaders and the chasing pack has narrowed. Korea are back in the semifinals after two blank editions, under a new coach with limited continental experience. Australia, a side many still file under the second tier, are the only team yet to lose a match.

China sit on the opposite side of that ledger. They own the best blocking system in the tournament, they have two attackers scoring 16 points apiece, and they still went home at the quarterfinal stage. That is the kind of defeat that forces a review of an entire training programme, not just one match.

One night, three stories, one writer

Back to something personal. I do this job because of women's volleyball, and anyone who has read me for years knows it. But some nights I have to sit down with the men's game, because this is a sport built on rallies that cannot be replayed.

That night, three former national-team players were livestreaming with me. With more than 5,000 viewers on the three former players' livestream, I was no longer alone. When Im Donghyeok took the final swing, the chat scrolled too fast for me to read, but I knew exactly what everyone behind those screens was feeling. At 60 I still think of myself as the girl jumping up and down in the stands at Lạch Tray. That feeling has no age, and no sport owns it exclusively.

What I am waiting for in the semifinals

The semifinals will answer three specific questions. Can Korea lift their serve-reception efficiency against harder servers? Can Australia hold their composure against a team that knows when to block? And China — a side that blocked 17 balls and still lost — will they dare to change how they play, or will they keep believing that height will pay the debt on some future day?

I have put my running shoes back by the door. Not to run 100 metres on any court, but to remind myself that I can still stay awake until 2 a.m. because of a ball that clipped a line. As long as that feeling lasts, I will keep writing about this sport, whether it is women's volleyball, men's volleyball, or any court where someone dares to take the last swing.