No one told TFC goalkeeper Stefan Frei that his time in Toronto is over. Since no one’s told him anything — not even now that the season’s over — he’s left assuming.

Unable to find his way back in, Frei said Monday that the stress of not knowing where he fit any longer drove him to the offices of a sports psychologist.

“I want to be part of a team where my services are needed and, No. 2, wanted,” the Swiss said, carefully marking his words.

Ditto Richard Eckersley, another top performer on a bottom team. Eckersley was bounced from the squad for the sin of being paid too much. Like Frei, Eckersley was carefully gauging his comments, repeatedly describing himself as “disappointed” that no one bothered to treat him like an adult with a face-to-face talk.

It wasn’t until he took it upon himself to go to the coach two weeks ago that he was set straight.

“It’s clear to see I’m not going to be here next season,” Eckersley said.

Still, no official word.

Forward Danny Koevermans was less cautious in his parting comments.

“Same for me. I also went into the coach’s office a couple of weeks ago and told him that I was willing to stay because I still think I can prove something here . . . but it was all because I came into the office and not that they communicated with us,” the Dutchman said. “Until this day, I don’t have an official statement . . . which I think is weird.”

He’s right. It’s weird. It’s doubly weird that TFC still trotted out all three players for the team’s locker clear-out on Monday, often alongside teammates, to give variations of “I have no idea if I’m on this team or not.”

This is not about the hard decisions that must be taken on a sports team. Frei, Eckersley and Koevermans don’t fit any more. They were well paid not to play. But this is also about recognizing the common courtesies that any worker deserves. It’s about doing things the right way.

So it was weirder still when Ryan Nelsen — a man whose only real coaching credential is his rapport with players — started taking passive-aggressive shots at Koevermans in his own presser.

“My door’s always open and he knows my phone number. He’s always welcome to talk,” Nelsen said when Koevermans’ complaints were relayed to him.

But that’s sort of his point — why did he have to ask you if he’s being shoved off?

“You’re right. Maybe that’s my inexperience,” Nelsen said. “I’ve got to be a better mind reader.”

Nelsen wandered away from the ring he’d built himself, but couldn’t help climbing back in a few minutes later.

“(Koevermans) gets paid what he gets paid. He gets paid an extraordinary amount ($1.7 million). But imagine the guy who’s on $35,000 who turns up every single day and doesn’t need any arms around his shoulders?”

Aw, c’mon. Is that necessary?

Koevermans also addressed MLS’s wage disparity, but from a quite different perspective.

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

“The minimum wage has to go up,” Koevermans said. “It can’t be that some guys are so dependent on being in the roster so they can get a per diem, or bring food home, or bring bottles of water home. And they’re putting in the same effort as other guys.”

Two ways of looking at the same issue. Ironically, it’s the guy making “an extraordinary amount” who’s preaching sports socialism.

This could all be put down to sour grapes from a trio who are being pushed out, were it not confirmed by team captain Steven Caldwell.

Despite his brief time with the club, no player’s word carries more weight than the plainspoken Scot. He is the de facto spokesperson for the locker room. Oddly, he’s also the actual spokesperson. Caldwell explained how he is the go-between who brings player concerns to management, and management concerns to the dressing room.

Is there some sort of force field at the clubhouse door? Why is a go-between required?

“I will agree there have been times this year where they have been difficult situations,” Caldwell said. “The communication can be a problem, but I’m that guy. If they have problems with that, they should come to me.”

No. They shouldn’t.

Nelsen’s key rationale as the coach of Toronto FC is that his youth and recent professional experience allow him to understand the problems of his players.

It now appears that that may be his greatest weakness. Imagine how exacerbated that problem could become in the off-season, when a couple of new kajillionaires are tossed in amidst the peons at the low-end of the pay scale, and all are expected to sort out the class war for themselves.

Since his arrival at MLSE, CEO Tim Leiweke has banged one drum most consistently across all platforms — “culture.”

Culture is a byword for communication. Evidently, Toronto FC has very little of that foundational commodity. One wonders how steady anything built on top of it — no matter how talented or costly — can be.

MORE:The Star’s soccer page