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Imagine the following: a smiling Rasmus Højlund wearing Napoli's colors. Now, juxtapose it with a dejected the Slovenian forward sporting United's jersey, looking as if he just missed a sitter. Do not worry locating a real picture of him missing; background information is the enemy. Then, add some goal stats in a big, silly font. Don't forget the emojis. Share the image everywhere.

Will you point out that Højlund's tally includes strikes in the Champions League while his counterpart isn't playing in Europe? Certainly not. And will you highlight that four of the Dane's goals were scored versus Belarus and Greece, or that Denmark is much stronger to Slovenia and creates many more scoring opportunities. You run online for a major brand, pure engagement is what pays the bills, United are the biggest draw, and nuance is your sworn enemy.

So the cycle of content spins. Your next task is to scan a lengthy podcast featuring the legendary goalkeeper and extract the part where he describes the signing of Sesko "weird". There's a bit, where he qualifies his remarks by saying, "I have nothing bad to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, remove that part. Nobody needs that. Simply make sure "weird" and "the player" appear together in the headline. People will be furious.

This Time of Potential and Premature Judgment

Mid-autumn has traditionally one of my preferred periods to observe football. Leaves fall, winds shift, squads and strategies are still fresh, all is novel and yet everything is beginning to form. The stars of the coming months are planting their flags. The transfer window is closed. No one is mentioning the quadruple yet. All teams are in contention. Right now, all is possibility.

Yet, for many of the same reasons, mid-autumn has also been one of my most disliked times to consume news on football. Because although no outcomes are decided, opinions must be formed immediately. The City winger is reborn. The German talent has been a major letdown. Is Antoine Semenyo the best player in the league right now? Please a decision now.

Sesko as The Prime Example

And for numerous reasons, Sesko feels like the archetype in this context, a player inextricably trapped between football's two countervailing, unavoidable forces. The need to delay definitive judgment, to let layers of technical texture and tactical sophistication to mature. And the imperative to produce instant verdicts, a conveyor belt of takes and jokes, out-of-context criticisms and pointless contrasts, a puzzle that can never truly be solved.

It is not my aim to offer a substantive evaluation of Sesko's time at Manchester United to date. The guy has started four times in the Premier League in a highly unpredictable team, scored two goals, and had a grand total of 116 contacts with the ball. What precisely are we analysing? Nor do I propose to duplicate the pundits' notable debate "Argument Over Benjamin Sesko", in which two of England's leading pundits duel thrillingly on a podcast over whether Sesko needs 10 goals to be a success this year (Neville), or whether it is more like 12 or 13 (the other).

A Cruel Environment

Despite this I loved watching Sesko at Leipzig: a powerful, fast sports car of a striker, playing in a team ideally suited to his talents: afforded the freedom to rampage but also the freedom to miss. Partly this is why United feels like the cruellest place he could possibly be at the moment: a place where "harsh judgments" are handed down in roughly the duration it takes to load a short advertisement, the club with the largest and most ruthless gulf between the time and air he requires, and the opportunity he is going to get.

There was an example of this over the national team pause, when a viral chart conveniently informed us that Sesko had been deemed – decisively – the worst signing of the summer transfer window by a survey of 20 agents. And of course, the media are by no means the only ones in such behavior. Club channels, online personalities, unidentified profiles with a oddly high number of fake followers: all parties with skin in the game is now basically aligned along the identical rules, an environment deliberately nosed towards provocation.

The Psychological Toll

Endless scrolling and tapping. What is happening to us? Are we aware, on some level, what this infinite stream of irritation is doing to our brains? Quite apart from the inherent strangeness of playing in the middle of this, knowing on some surreal chain-reaction level that every single thing about players is now basically material, product, open-source property to be repackaged and traded.

And yes, partly this is because it's Manchester United, the corpse that keeps nourishing the narrative, a major institution that must always be generating the strong emotions. But also, partly this is a temporary malaise, a swing of opinion most visibly and harshly observed at this time of year, about a month after the transfer market shut. All summer long we have been coveting players, eulogising them, salivating over them. Yet, just a few weeks in, a lot of those very players are now being disdained as broken goods. Is it time to be concerned about Jamie Gittens? Did Arsenal actually need Viktor Gyökeres necessary? What was the point of another expensive buy?

A Wider Issue

It seems fitting that he faces Liverpool on the weekend: a team simultaneously 13 months unbeaten at home in the Premier League and somehow in their own state of perceived turmoil, like filing a a report on someone who popped to the shops 30 minutes ago. Too open. Mohamed Salah finished. The striker waste of money. Arne Slot bald.

Perhaps we have not yet quite grasped the way the storyline of football has begun to supplant football itself, to influence the way we view it, an entire sport repivoted around talking points and immediate responses, an activity that occurs in the backdrop while we browse through our phones, incapable to detach from the constant flow of opinions and further hot takes. It may be Sesko bearing the brunt right now. However, we're all losing something in this process.