I didn’t watch this match live. Family things, you know? And I’d rather family things than watch this team live right now. That should probably always be the case, but there’s no conflict there right now. There’s no pull from my team. But I still don’t want to write about a match I haven’t seen, so I open Apple TV.

Widow’s Bay. I’ve been wanting to watch that. It’s greeting me when I open the app, and I want to click. I’d rather watch whatever Widow’s Bay is (no spoilers, please) than watch this team and write about it. Come to think of it, there are a lot of things I’d rather do than watch this team in this form, especially because I don’t have a lot of interest in remaining unspoiled about the outcome of the match. I know the result already. Still, I watch anyway. I’m a little tempted to just watch the match recap. I don’t.

I do fast forward through certain moments. The black-and-white starting-soon screen? I only watch a few moments of it. The national anthem, I happen to land on. Nice harmonies. They’re more together than I expect this team will be, given the scoreline and what I’ve already heard. It’s rare I stick around for the anthem, especially on a broadcast, but tonight I do. I know it doesn’t get any better from here. I know Brian White’s about 12 minutes from scoring, give or take. I think about how it might be fun to hear God Save the King on a Premier League broadcast, but perhaps mostly for the crowd reaction.

MLS on Apple TV will resume shortly. And it does, because I scrub the video forward.

I’m thinking about Diego Luna. We’re a minute in, and I’m not convinced he would have made a substantial difference. Brian Dunseth talks about all the hamstring injuries. He doesn’t say what I’m thinking, but I don’t think he’s saying much by accident.

A 4-4-2. Is that what we’re seeing? A 4-2-3-1? I don’t know. It does feel like it’s either by necessity or by choice, but it’s clear that the necessity isn’t center back availability — it’s the lack of a right back available. Or a right wing back. Or whatever Pablo Mastroeni wants to call it.

Five minutes in. This crowd is empty. It doesn’t look like the reported 20,000-plus. Tickets sold, I guess? But maybe that’s worse, tickets sold and deemed not worth using. RSL’s competitive, though. Not threatening, particularly. A cross to switch play with nobody around; that’s about right. Guilavogui’s getting involved and forcing Vancouver to foul him. Sergi Solans is offisde once again.

9 minutes. Here we go. It’s getting hairy. Brian White, of course. Philip Quinton’s getting the blame, which happens a lot. But have you seen a team so reliably disorganized as RSL without Justen Glad? These aren’t spring chickens. Once again, it’s somebody lurking outside the box, and there’s just no awareness from this team. There’s no defensive plan. This is not Philip Quinton’s fault, at least not entirely. He’s one man, and there are eight in the box. Why are two players at right back? Why are they three players standing in a line near Brian White? Why is Noel Caliskan standing at the penalty spot with nobody around him?

None of these questions are about individual mistakes. This is a team that can’t defend as a unit. A great defense defends as a unit. At this point, the match is paused. I’m just watching the ball fizz back to the top of the box, a moment in time, the crowd struggling to fill one-third of those seats. I’m going frame-by-frame, because I want to see when Brian White got free. He gets past Quinton, and there’s still another center back that could pay attention there. I wonder if Brian White might be offside, but then I see that the ball might have glanced off Colin Guske. I can’t remember if that matters. He’s making a play at the ball. That probably resets offside if he gets it, right?

There’s a funny thing about a goalkeeper coming forward to complain about an offside call not given, isn’t there? Of all the players on the field, the goalkeeper has the worst view of offside, unless, I suppose, they have superhuman depth perception.

I’m still thinking about Philip Quinton. I’ve seen worse center backs get exposed less often, but I think that’s because they had Kyle Beckerman in front of them. That makes a difference, doesn’t it? Noel Caliskan is good, but is he that? I think he’s probably more of an eight — a connector. What is he connecting now? I don’t know. Maybe that’s Colin Guske, now. It isn’t Stijin Spierings, though, is it? It hasn’t been, at least.

Three losses in a low for the second time this year. Six losses in seven. It’s a dark time for Real Salt Lake followers. The only fun thing we’ve really had is Sergi Solans running around wildly. He’s a fun player, isn’t he? In the last five games, RSL has as many losses as they did in the first 14 games of the season.

It’s 21 minutes in now. RSL hasn’t created a single thing. I’m thinking about Philip Quinton again. I guess my position is this: If you’ve had a faulty tool in your toolbox for three years, can you complain when it doesn’t work as well as you’d hoped?

Brian Dunseth just said something I’m going to transcribe for you. It’s worth paying attention. “I just don’t understand. In 11 matches without a win, how in the world is Thomas Muller untouched at the back post for an uncontested header? It makes zero sense to me in a time of urgency and margins that seemingly everything has gone against Real Salt Lake. Controlling controllables and staying touch-tight on your mark is one of the easiest things you can control.”

Anyway. This match is a great reminder that I really, really don’t think altitude is a significant advantage for Real Salt Lake. It’s certainly not an advantage if you don’t make your opposition run or really break a defensive sweat.

Thomas Muller. Inevitable, I guess. What is RSL doing? This is a team that doesn’t know. I don’t know. I’m glad the dozen Vancouver fans up in the corner had a good time, I guess. This team is a disaster. The midfielders aren’t defending. They’re jogging along until things get difficult, then they’re sprinting away. It just takes three players making runs, and somehow — somehow! — there are still four players defending three, and Thomas Muller is running all alone. There are four players in entirely non-defensive positions. Muller is free. I know he’s one of the greats, but he doesn’t have to show it right now, does he? It’s funny. They’ve made this look like a breakaway. It wasn’t. Vancouver had possesion for a bit.

I don’t really want to watch the rest of this match. I will, I think. I see Morgan Guilavogui step on a player. Why? I don’t know.

It feels like this team isn’t coached, really. This feels like a team that trains, sure. They understand each other, generally. They don’t understand what they’re doing on the field. Sometimes, the human spirit is enough. For 12 games, it hasn’t been. Saba is being asked to play deep, now. It’s the 35th minute. He half-raises his arms toward Pablo Mastroeni. It feels like he’s’ having to be told repeatedly. I don’t know who’s responsible for tactics. Is it a coach? I think probably so.

A couple corner kicks, now. Nothing comes of it. This match is getting tiring. It’s getting late. It’s thankfully halftime, and the crowd does seem a bit fuller on the edge of it here. They’re doing the lights-off thing that stadiums love to do now that most have LEDs instead of (what I’ve just looked up) metal halide bulbs.

Sergi Solans just hit the post. I’m glad I saw that moment. There’s life in this old thing yet. Not a lot of it, though. Not enough to make watching this match interesting. Dominik Marczuk enters the field at right wing back. There’s a reminder that RSL tried to send him on loan. That attempted was unsuccessful.

62:45. The ball is just leaving the feet of Rafa Cabral. His pass to Sam Junqua puts the defender under pressure, and he sends an errant pass to the eventual goalscorer. I don’t know. I’m annoyed by that goal because it’s entirely preventable. I don’t know how nobody gets in front of him, because there was certainly opportunity.

Emeka Eneli enters. 65th minute. Taylor Booth, too. Cool. I’m genuinely happy for Eneli, whose return has been long-awaited. I’m starting to drift, though.

This team. I just don’t get this team. 12 games without a win, no win since the World Cup break. I’m just not seeing anything from this team that makes me think they’ve got another win in them this season. I’m sure it’ll happen, but I think it’ll be a surprise. They don’t look better than any team, and certainly, they don’t look better than their own flaws. Taylor Booth looks fun coming on, though. Maybe he’s a miracle worker.

Morgan Guilavogui increasingly looks frustrated. He’s getting into scuffs and making bad decisions off the ball. Juanma Sanabria looks a little worse for wear. RSL’s defending seems to be getting worse. Thomas Muller keeps working hard, 87 minutes in. After the whistle, Pablo Mastroeni is arguing with the referee. I don’t know what any complaint he might have would have to do with the utter failure of a performance from Salt Lake.

Next time out, it seems we’ll be missing a few more players. We’re facing Seattle Sounders, who have drawn five consecutive matches after losing eight consecutive before that. I would really love RSL to not be the team that gives them their first win after 13 without one.

I guess the question I’m left with: Where does the buck stop? Right now, it doesn’t look anybody in any position at the club bears any responsibility for what’s going on. If the goal of this club is to make money for its owners, I guess lucking into Zavier Gozo’s meteoric rise is good enough for them. As a fan of this club, as insufficient as the term may be, that’s not good enough for me.