Imagine this: a happy the Danish striker in a Napoli shirt. Next, place that with a sad-looking Benjamin Sesko in a Manchester United kit, appearing like he just missed a sitter. Don't bother locating a real picture of that miss; context is the enemy. Then, include some goal stats in a large, comical font. Remember some emoticons. Share the image across all platforms.
Would you point out that Højlund's goal count features scores in the premier European competition while Sesko isn't playing in continental tournaments? Of course not. And will you highlight that four of the Dane's goals were scored versus weaker national sides, or that Denmark is far superior to Slovenia and creates many more scoring opportunities. If you run online for a major brand, raw interaction is what pays the bills, United are the prime target, and context is the thing to avoid.
Thus the cycle of content turns. Your next task is to sift through a lengthy interview with Peter Schmeichel and extract the part where he calls the acquisition of Sesko "strange". Just before, where he prefaces his comments by saying, "Nothing negative to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, cut that. No one needs that. Just make sure "strange" and "Sesko" are paired in the headline. The audience will be outraged.
Mid-autumn has long been one of my preferred times to watch football. Leaves fall, winds shift, the teams and tactics are still fresh, everything is new and yet everything is beginning to form. The stars of the season ahead are planting their flags. The transfer window is closed. Nobody is mentioning the multiple trophies yet. Everyone are in contention. Right now, anything is possible.
However, for similar reasons, this period has long been one of my most disliked times to consume news on football. For while no outcomes are decided, opinions must be formed immediately. The City winger is reborn. The German talent has been a crushing disappointment. Is Antoine Semenyo the best player in the league right now? Please an answer now.
In many ways, Benjamin Sesko feels like the archetype in this respect, a player inextricably trapped between football's opposing, unavoidable forces. The need to withhold definitive judgment, allowing technical development and tactical sophistication to develop. And the imperative to generate instant definitive judgment, a constant stream of opinions and jokes, out-of-context condemnations and pointless comparisons, a puzzle that can not truly be solved.
I do not propose to offer a in-depth analysis of Sesko's time at United so far. He has started on four occasions in the top flight in a highly unpredictable team, scored two goals, and taken a mere of 116 touches. What precisely are we evaluating? And will I attempt to replicate Gary Neville's and Ian Wright's notable debate "The Sesko Debate", in which two of England's leading pundits argue passionately on a popular show over whether he needs 10 goals to be deemed successful this season (Neville), or whether it's really more like 12 or 13 (the other).
For all this I enjoyed watching him at his former club: a big, screeching sports car of a forward, playing in a team ideally suited to his abilities: afforded the license to attack but also the freedom to miss. Partly this is why United feels like the most unforgiving place he could possibly be right now: a place where "harsh judgments" are handed down in about the time it takes to load a short advertisement, the club with the widest and most pitiless gap between the time and air he requires, and the time and air he is likely to receive.
We saw an example of this over the international break, when a widely shared infographic conveniently stated that Sesko had been deemed – by a wide margin – the worst signing of the summer transfer window by a survey of football representatives. Naturally, the media are not alone in this. Team social media, influencers, unidentified profiles with a oddly high number of fake followers: everybody with a vested interest is now basically aligned along the same principles, an environment deliberately geared for controversy.
Endless scrolling and tapping. What is happening to ourselves? Do we realize, on some level, what this infinite sluice of aggravation is doing to our brains? Quite apart from the inherent strangeness of playing in the middle of this, aware on a bizarre butterfly-effect level that each aspect about players is now basically content, product, open-source property to be repackaged and exchanged.
And yes, in part this is because United are United, the entity that continues to feed the cycle, a big club that must always be generating the big feelings. But also, in part this is a seasonal affliction, a pendulum of judgment most clearly and cruelly observed at this season, roughly four weeks after the window has closed. All summer long we have been desiring players, praising them, salivating over them. Yet, just a few weeks in, many of those same players are already being dismissed as broken goods. Should we start to worry about Jamie Gittens? Did Arsenal actually need Viktor Gyökeres necessary? What was the purpose of another expensive buy?
It feels appropriate that he meets their rivals on the weekend: a team at once 13 months unbeaten at home in the league and yet in their own situation of perceived turmoil, like submitting a missing person’s report on a person who went to the shops 30 minutes ago. Defensively suspect. Mohamed Salah finished. The striker waste of money. Arne Slot bald.
Maybe we have failed to understand the way the storyline of football has started to replace football the actual game, to influence the way we watch it, an entire sport reoriented around discussion topics and immediate responses, an activity that occurs in the background while we browse through our phones, unable to detach from the saline drip of takes and further hot takes. Perhaps this player bearing the brunt right now. But in a way, we're all losing a part of the experience in this process.
Tech journalist and gadget reviewer with a passion for emerging technologies and consumer electronics.