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Imagine this: a happy the Danish striker in a Napoli shirt. Now, juxtapose it with a dejected Benjamin Sesko sporting United's jersey, appearing like he's missed an open goal. Do not worry locating an actual photo of him missing; context is the enemy. Then, include statistics in a large, comical font. Don't forget the emojis. Share the image across all platforms.

Will you point out that Højlund's goal count includes strikes in the premier European competition while Sesko does not compete in Europe? Of course not. And will you note that four of the Dane's goals came against Belarus and Greece, or that Denmark is much stronger to Slovenia and generates many more scoring opportunities. You manage online for a major brand, pure interaction is what pays the bills, United are the prime target, and nuance is your sworn enemy.

Thus the cycle of content spins. The next job is to scan a 44-minute interview with the legendary goalkeeper and find the part where he describes the acquisition of Sesko "weird". Just before, where Schmeichel prefaces his comments by saying, "I have nothing bad to say about Benjamin Sesko"... yes, remove that part. Nobody wants that. Simply ensure "strange" and "the player" are paired in the headline. The audience will be furious.

This Time of Potential and Hasty Opinions

The heart of fall has traditionally one of my preferred times to watch football. The leaves swirl, the wind turns, squads and strategies are still fresh, all is novel and yet everything is beginning to form. The stars of the season ahead are staking their claims. The transfer window is closed. Nobody is mentioning the quadruple yet. Everyone are in contention. Right now, anything is possible.

Yet, for similar reasons, mid-autumn has also been one of my most disliked times to read about football. For while nothing has yet been settled, opinions must be formed immediately. Jack Grealish is reborn. Florian Wirtz has been a crushing disappointment. Is Antoine Semenyo the top performer in the league right now? We need an answer now.

Sesko as Patient Zero

And for numerous reasons, Benjamin Sesko feels like Patient Zero in this context, a player inextricably trapped between football's opposing, unavoidable forces. The imperative to withhold final conclusions, to let layers of technical texture and strategic understanding to mature. And the demand to produce instant verdicts, a conveyor belt of opinions and jokes, context-free criticisms and pointless comparisons, a square that can not truly be circled.

It is not my aim to provide a in-depth evaluation of Sesko's stint at Manchester United so far. The guy has started on four occasions in the Premier League in a wildly inconsistent team, scored two goals, and had a grand total of 116 touches. What exactly are we evaluating? Nor will I attempt to replicate Gary Neville's and Ian Wright's notable debate "The Sesko Debate", in which two famous analysts argue passionately on a podcast over whether Sesko needs 10 goals to be deemed successful this year (Neville), or whether it's really more like twelve or thirteen (the other).

A Harsh Reality

Despite this I loved watching Sesko at his former club: a powerful, screeching sports car of a forward, playing in a team pitched perfectly to his talents: given the license to attack but also the freedom to miss. And in part this is why United feels like the cruellest place he could possibly be right now: a place where "brutal verdicts" are summarily issued in roughly the duration it takes to load a pre-roll ad, the club with the widest and most ruthless gulf between the time and air he requires, and the opportunity he is likely to receive.

We saw an example of this during the international break, when a viral infographic conveniently stated that Sesko had been deemed – by a wide margin – the poorest acquisition of the recent market by a poll of football representatives. Naturally, the press are by no means alone in this. Club channels, influencers, unidentified profiles with a suspiciously high number of fake followers: all parties with skin in the game is now basically operating along the same principles, an environment explicitly geared for controversy.

The Psychological Toll

Endless scrolling and tapping. What is happening to ourselves? Are we aware, on any level, what this infinite stream of irritation is doing to our minds? Quite apart from the inherent strangeness of being a player in the middle of it all, aware on a bizarre chain-reaction level that each aspect about them is now basically content, product, public property to be packaged and exchanged.

And yes, partly this is because United are United, the corpse that continues to feed the narrative, a major institution that must always be generating the big feelings. But also, in part this is a temporary malaise, a swing of opinion most visibly and harshly observed at this time of year, roughly four weeks after the window has closed. All summer long we have been coveting footballers, praising them, drooling over them. Now, just a few weeks in, many of those same players are now being disdained as failures. Should we start to be concerned about Jamie Gittens? Was Arsenal's purchase of their striker necessary? What was the point of another expensive buy?

A Wider Issue

It feels appropriate that Sesko faces Liverpool on Sunday: a team at once on a long unbeaten run at home in the league and yet in their own state of feverish crisis, like filing a a report on a person who popped to the shops 30 minutes ago. Defensively suspect. Their star finished. The striker waste of money. The coach 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 whole competition repivoted around talking points and immediate responses, something that occurs in the background while we browse through our devices, unable to detach from the saline drip of opinions and more takes. Perhaps Sesko taking the hit at present. But in a way, everyone is sacrificing a part of the experience here.