The Himass Case and the Content Classification Issue in Vietnam's Esports Media

Late at night, I scrolled through a Vietnamese esports news site and came across an article tagged "esports." Its content was a set of cosplay photos of the character Shimakaze from Azur Lane – a gacha game with no professional competitive system, no tournaments, no players, no meta to analyze. There were only carefully crafted images, accompanied by a paragraph praising the "immersion" and "cuteness" of an unnamed cosplayer. Right next to that article, in the "related news" section, was a real esports story: Vietnamese PUBG player Himass was facing a potential suspension after disputes reportedly involving two other players, Soopi and Mr. Pha. This random but ironic arrangement exposed a chronic disease in Vietnam's esports media: the blurring of content classification.

To understand the problem, we need to look at the bigger picture. PUBG is one of the most popular battle royale games in Vietnam, with a large player community and regular professional tournaments, including the PUBG Asia Stars. It is a true esports discipline: with rules, tactics, and competition. Yet on many news sites, it is placed on the same shelf as cosplay content, fan art, and promotional articles for games with no competitive elements. This not only annoys readers but also erodes the value of the entire industry.

So what really happened in the Himass case? Based on scattered information from related articles, a picture emerges: Himass, a Vietnamese PUBG player, was accused of violating competition rules or having personal conflicts with other players. The names Soopi and Mr. Pha keep appearing in the story, suggesting a complex web of conflicts within the player community. The situation escalated when publisher KRAFTON issued an apology – a rare move that indicates the severity and the impact on the brand's image.

The most striking issue, however, is not the content of the case but how the parties handled it. So far, no official statement has clarified what Himass allegedly violated, what specific punishment he might face, or how the investigation was conducted. The fan community has received only fragments of news, rumors, and speculative analysis from outlets that, a day earlier, were publishing Azur Lane cosplay photo sets. This raises serious questions about transparency and accountability for both the player and the publisher.

A player's value is not determined on the field, but in the operating system around him. In Himass's case, if he is genuinely talented, he deserves the opportunity to develop; but if he violated rules, he also deserves a clear punishment. The current system makes both scenarios unfair because without official information, people will speculate freely, and those speculations can destroy a person's career.

This is directly connected to content classification. When a news site doubles as both a "cosplay forum" and an "esports press agency," its ability to process information is corrupted by advertising logic and clickbait. Controversial articles, provocative cosplay sets, and unverified transfer rumors all share one thing: they generate traffic. Meanwhile, tactical analysis pieces or serious investigative reports about a scandal take more time and are less attractive. As a result, readers increasingly cannot tell the difference between genuine esports news and commercially driven content.

A contract is only truly complete when its story is told properly. And the story of Vietnamese esports is currently being told carelessly. If we cannot clearly define what esports is and what is merely gaming entertainment, how can we convince major sponsors to invest in an industry already struggling against social prejudice? How can parents trust letting their children pursue professional gaming careers when even media professionals cannot define the boundaries of their own field?

Interestingly, Azur Lane's publisher – Manjuu/Yongshi – has never positioned its product as esports. Azur Lane is a character-collection game operating on a cycle of new characters and skins, with no competitive ranking system or professional league. Yet an article about its cosplay could still appear in an "esports" section on a Vietnamese site. This shows that news outlets are losing the ability to recognize their own industry.

In eight years of observing this industry, from university lecture halls to sports media offices in Seoul, I have witnessed many similar incidents. But I have never seen a case so distorted by the media simply due to a lack of basic standards. Look at South Korea, where esports sites like Inven or Daily Esports strictly separate gaming news from esports news. They never place a cosplay article in the "LCK" section – the national League of Legends league. This does not mean they look down on cosplay; it means they understand that each type of content serves different needs and different audiences.

In contrast, in Vietnam, "esports" is being used as a catch-all tag for everything related to gaming. Consequently, an article about a gacha game character cosplay can appear in a list of "esports" stories, while a serious incident like Himass's is treated as entertainment gossip. This confusion not only frustrates readers but also creates a major barrier to the industry's sustainable growth.

Imagine you are a brand wanting to sponsor a PUBG tournament. You search for articles about the community and get dozens of cosplay posts. What would you think? You might withdraw your decision because you cannot assess the professionalism of the audience you are about to invest in. This is an invisible economic loss caused by content confusion. Data gives me a map, but intuition chooses the path. When I look at data on esports growth in Southeast Asia, I see enormous potential. But when I look at how the media handles esports events, I see an unacceptable waste.

Some will say this confusion is trivial and that smart fans will figure it out themselves. I believe the opposite. When outlets constantly tag cosplay content as "esports," they inadvertently devalue real tournaments like PUBG Asia Stars. It is like calling a professional football match a "fashion show." As for the Himass case, some argue it is just personal friction between players, not worth deep analysis. But without clear punishment, similar incidents will recur, and the community will lose faith in justice. The price is not paid by Himass alone, but by an entire generation of young players.

Whatever the outcome, the Himass case will be a milestone for Vietnamese esports. If handled transparently, it could set a good precedent, teaching the community that every action has consequences and every decision has a reason. But if it sinks into oblivion among cosplay posts and rumors, that will be a missed opportunity. For now, I am still waiting for an article about Himass with complete facts, cited sources, and context – an article worthy of the "esports" label these outlets claim for themselves.