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Imagine the following: a happy the Danish striker in a Napoli shirt. Now, place that with a sad-looking the Slovenian forward sporting United's jersey, appearing like he's missed a sitter. Do not bother finding an actual photo of that miss; background information is your adversary. Then, add some goal stats in a large, silly font. Remember the emojis. Share it across all platforms.

Would you mention that Højlund's goal count includes scores in the premier European competition while his counterpart isn't playing in continental tournaments? Of course not. And will you note that four of Højlund's goals came against weaker national sides, or that his national team is much stronger to Slovenia and creates many more scoring opportunities. If you manage social media for a large outlet, raw interaction is your livelihood, Manchester United are the biggest draw, and context is your sworn enemy.

So the wheel of content spins. Your next task is to scan a 44-minute podcast featuring Peter Schmeichel and find the part where he describes the acquisition of Sesko "strange". Just before, where he qualifies his remarks by saying, "I have nothing bad to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, cut that. Nobody needs that. Just ensure "strange" and "Sesko" are paired in the title. The audience will be furious.

The Season of Potential and Premature Judgment

Mid-autumn has long been one of my favourite periods to observe football. The leaves swirl, winds shift, squads and strategies are newly formed, all is novel and yet everything is beginning to form. The stars of the season ahead are planting their flags. The transfer window is closed. Nobody is talking about the multiple trophies yet. All teams are still in the game. At this precise point, all is possibility.

However, for similar reasons, mid-autumn has also been one of my least favourite times to read about football. For while nothing has yet been settled, opinions must be formed immediately. Jack Grealish is resurgent. The German talent has been a major letdown. Could Semenyo be the top performer in the league right now? Please a decision immediately.

Sesko as The Prime Example

In many ways, Sesko feels like Patient Zero in this respect, a player caught between football's two countervailing, unavoidable forces. The imperative to delay definitive judgment, to let technical development and strategic understanding to develop. And the demand to produce instant verdicts, a constant stream of takes and jokes, out-of-context condemnations and meaningless comparisons, a puzzle that can never truly be circled.

It is not my aim to offer a in-depth analysis of Sesko's stint at United so far. He has started four times in the Premier League in a wildly inconsistent team, found the net twice, and taken a mere of 116 contacts with the ball. What precisely are we analysing? Nor will I attempt to replicate the pundits' notable debate "The Sesko Debate", in which two famous analysts argue passionately on a podcast over whether he needs 10 goals to be a success this season (one pundit), or whether it is more like twelve or thirteen (the other).

A Harsh Reality

Despite this I enjoyed watching Sesko at Leipzig: a big, screeching sports car of a forward, playing in a team pitched perfectly to his talents: afforded the license to attack but also the freedom to miss. Partly this is why Manchester United feels like the cruellest place he could possibly be right now: a place where "harsh judgments" are handed down in roughly the duration it takes to load a pre-roll ad, the club with the widest and most pitiless gap between the patience and space he requires, and the time and air he is going to get.

We saw an example of this over the international break, when a widely shared infographic handily stated that Sesko had been judged – decisively – the poorest acquisition of the recent market by a poll of 20 agents. Naturally, the media are not alone in this. Club channels, influencers, anonymous X accounts with a suspiciously high number of pornbot followers: everybody with a vested interest is now basically aligned along the identical rules, an environment explicitly nosed towards provocation.

The Mental Cost

Endless scrolling and tapping. What is happening to us? Are we aware, on some level, what this endless sluice of aggravation is doing to our brains? Separate from the essential weirdness of being a player in the center of it all, knowing on some surreal butterfly-effect level that every single thing about them is now essentially material, product, open-source property to be packaged and traded.

Indeed, partly this is because United are United, the corpse that keeps nourishing the cycle, a big club that must constantly be producing the big feelings. But also, in part this is a seasonal affliction, a swing of opinion most visibly and harshly observed at this season, roughly four weeks after the transfer market shut. Throughout the summer we have been desiring footballers, praising them, salivating over them. Now, just a few weeks in, many of those very players are now being disdained as failures. Should we start to be concerned about a new signing? Did Arsenal actually need Viktor Gyökeres wise? What was the point of another expensive buy?

A Wider Issue

It seems fitting that Sesko faces Liverpool on Sunday: a team at once 13 months unbeaten at home in the Premier League and somehow in their own situation of feverish crisis, like filing a a report on someone who popped to the shops half an hour ago. Too open. Mohamed Salah finished. The striker waste of money. Arne Slot bald.

Perhaps we have failed to understand the way the storyline of football has begun to supplant football the actual game, to inflect the way we view it, an entire sport reoriented around discussion topics and reaction, something that happens in the backdrop while we scroll through our devices, incapable to disconnect from the constant flow of opinions and further hot takes. Perhaps Sesko bearing the brunt at present. But in a way, we're all sacrificing a part of the experience in this process.