All credit to D.C. United for Thursday’s accomplishment. Ben Olsen’s team was tactically disciplined, collectively committed and ultimately dug out the decisive goal – surely the club’s most significant goal in at least five years.
But there is a less lovely story from the other side last night in Harrison, N.J., where the New York Red Bulls collapsed beneath the weight of their own destructive choices. They paid a handsome price, yet again, for the utterly unjustifiable choices around Rafa Marquez.
I’ve said before, but it was never more true: At this point, anything Marquez does to damage and tear down the team is no longer his fault. It’s the club’s fault for its stubborn desire to keep the former Mexican international around.
Marquez is an anchor strapped to the ankle of this franchise and last night he sank the whole thing. (Believe it – no matter how many ways his former Barcelona teammate Thierry Henry tries to defend the guy.)
The Red Bulls were in good shape last night. Hans Backe’s side was more or less in control of the teams’ Eastern Conference semifinal second leg. Sloppy or imprecise finishing aside, they were in charge of a 0-0 match.
United went a man down with 20 minutes remaining. Surely, you would think, with a man advantage while playing at home, Backe’s pricey assembly of stars could come shining through. To have that man advantage, even if the night needed another 30 minutes to declare a winner, meant everything.
Then Marquez did what he’s been doing since his arrival into Harrison: he thoughtlessly and selfishly brought it all down.
Marquez probably should have been ejected for his awful elbow into Chris Pontius’ head in the 61st minute. Granted reprieve, and fully aware that referee Mark Geiger would presumably not hesitate to even up the match, Marquez then brutally chopped down Pontius just six minutes after Bill Hamid’s ejection for D.C. United.
Series over. And probably Backe’s time at Red Bull Arena, too.
By all appearances, Marquez is always in it for himself. There was always an injury (some of the mysterious variety), or a costly moment of inattention or rank indifference on game day. There were nasty shots at teammates. There were moments of utter madness, like his post-game antics that led to suspension in last year’s playoffs.
And there was no value in a $4.6 million salary, that for a man who started just 32 of 68 games over the last two years. (Some of his absences were due to international call-ups or because Backe just chose not to use him, which is indicting on its own.)
Either way, he wasn’t available enough. And when he was, all the smooth passing in the world could not possibly balance his toxic tendencies.
No matter how many Red Bulls-branded shirts this guy sells in Mexico, the organization simply must cut its losses. If not, the Red Bulls will continue to deserve every damaging and deadly deed this disaster of a signing reaps.