Rafa Marquez, Carlos Tevez, and the tyranny of discontent

When was the last time a problem child was truly worth it in pro sports?

It does occasionally happen, where some selfish prima donna is so preternaturally talented that it’s worth putting up with their crap – but those are cases in the extreme.

I’m thinking today about two such problems, surly Red Bulls defender Rafa Marquez and discontented Manchester City striker Carlos Tevez.

Mostly, I’m wondering why either of these guys are still around at places they don’t want to be? I cannot understand why Marquez and Tevez haven’t been handed their ceremonial cuff links (as a nice little “thank you” for service), herded through their HR exit interview and shown the freakin’ door.

If you’re not keeping up, Marquez isn’t fitting in at Red Bull Arena, where the fact that he hasn’t been very good has completely escaped him. He’s blaming everyone but himself, never mind mounting evidence that he’s the weak link.

Manchester City now says Tevez is “finished” at his current address after the Argentine striker refused to enter the field as a second-half substitute in the 2-0 defeat Champions League to Bayern Munich. While you could say the case of the Red Bull’s troublemaker is slightly more nuanced, not so with Tevez. He hasn’t wanted to be around City for some time. He told them as much.

Mostly, I just think clubs (in many sports, not just in soccer) habitually underestimate the destructive force of a locker room malcontent.

But these guys are train wrecks. Take Tevez, whose unstable on-again, off-again love affair with City has sucked too much oxygen from the room for too long. Now, apparently, they’ve had enough. Says manager Roberto Mancini: “If we want to improve like a team, like a squad, Carlos cannot play with us. With me … it is finished.”

About. Damn. Time. Why did it take so long to achieve this valuable moment of clarity?

Tevez didn’t want to be there. I know City was bound to take a financial hit, selling at diminished value. But so what? How’s all that working out for them now? “Diminished value” looks pretty good now compared to what they’ll make on any future sale.

Marquez is a different jar of pickles. He thinks he wants to be there – but he doesn’t seem to care enough to put in the earnest effort. That should have been obvious by now to Red Bulls management, who have seemed slow to light a fire under the guy.

It’s different – and yet the same. Management simply must recognize players who aren’t getting the job done right now. It’s not about who made the plays back in the day. It’s not about reputations and salaries. It about which guys are manufacturing the goods right now.

If they aren’t, they can’t play. Period.

It’s certainly OK to give a struggling veteran a few games to work himself out of a slump. But if the self-awareness doesn’t exist, if the player doesn’t recognize or won’t acknowledge his own struggles or vexing lack of “give a damn” then the club must take action.

If upper management meddles and demands that a coach uses a problem child (and we all know that happens), that coach really should refuse. Why? Presumably, the only reason a coach would acquiesce to ownership meddling is to save their job. But if they put the problems on the field or stubbornly retain the player’s toxicity in the locker room, their team ultimately suffers. The club will under-perform and the coach will be fired anyway. We see this all the time.

But the coach who takes a bold stand and puts the dogs on the bench (or out on the street, as in Tevez’s case) looks like a fearless leader. Players might just bond around that guy and the entire, suddenly inspired product could rise as a result.

Clubs and managers underrate the tyranny of the discontented at their own peril.