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Imagine the following: a smiling Rasmus Højlund wearing Napoli's colors. Now, juxtapose it with a dejected Benjamin Sesko in a Manchester United kit, looking as if he's missed an open goal. Don't worry locating a real picture of that miss; context is the enemy. Then, add statistics in a large, silly font. Don't forget the emojis. Share the image across all platforms.

Will you mention that Højlund's goal count features scores in the premier European competition while his counterpart isn't playing in continental tournaments? Of course not. Nor would you note that four of Højlund's goals were scored versus weaker national sides, or that Denmark is much stronger to Slovenia and creates many more chances. If you run online for a large outlet, pure engagement is your livelihood, United are the biggest draw, and context is the thing to avoid.

So the cycle of online material turns. The next job is to scan a 44-minute podcast with Peter Schmeichel and find the part where he calls the acquisition of Sesko "weird". There's a bit, where he prefaces his remarks by saying, "Nothing negative to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, cut that. Nobody needs that. Just ensure "strange" and "Sesko" appear together in the headline. People will be furious.

This Time of Potential and Hasty Opinions

Mid-autumn has long been one of my favourite times to observe football. Leaves fall, winds shift, squads and strategies are newly formed, all is novel and yet patterns are emerging. The stars of the coming months are staking their claims. The summer market is closed. Nobody is talking about the quadruple yet. Everyone are in contention. At this precise point, anything is possible.

Yet, for many of the same reasons, mid-autumn has long been one of my least favourite times to read about football. Because although no outcomes are decided, something must always be getting settled. The City winger is resurgent. Florian Wirtz has been a major letdown. Is Antoine Semenyo the best player in the league at this moment? We need a decision immediately.

Sesko as Patient Zero

In many ways, Benjamin Sesko feels like the archetype in this respect, a player caught between football's opposing, non-negotiable forces. The imperative to withhold final conclusions, to let layers of technical texture and strategic understanding to mature. And the demand to generate permanent verdicts, a conveyor belt of opinions and jokes, context-free condemnations and pointless contrasts, a square that can never truly be circled.

It is not my aim to offer a in-depth analysis of Sesko's time at Manchester United to date. He has been in the lineup four times in the top flight in a wildly inconsistent team, found the net twice, and had a grand total of 116 contacts with the ball. What precisely are we evaluating? Nor do I propose to replicate Gary Neville's and Ian Wright's notable debate "Argument Over Benjamin Sesko", in which two famous analysts argue thrillingly on a podcast over whether Sesko needs 10 goals to be a success this year (one pundit), or whether it is more like 12 or 13 (the other).

A Harsh Reality

For all this I enjoyed watching him at Leipzig: a powerful, fast racing car of a striker, playing in a team ideally suited to his talents: given the license to attack but also the leeway to fail. Partly this is why United feels like the cruellest place he could possibly be right now: a place where "brutal verdicts" are summarily issued in about the time it takes to watch a short advertisement, the club with the widest and most ruthless gap between the time and air he requires, and the opportunity he is likely to receive.

We saw an example of this over the national team pause, when a widely shared infographic handily stated that Sesko had been judged – by a wide margin – the worst signing of the recent market by a survey of 20 agents. And of course, the media are not the only ones in this. Club channels, influencers, unidentified profiles with a oddly high number of pornbot followers: everybody with a vested interest is now basically aligned along the identical rules, an ecosystem deliberately geared for provocation.

The Psychological Toll

Endless scrolling and tapping. What are we doing to ourselves? Are we aware, on some level, what this infinite sluice 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 butterfly-effect level that each aspect about them is now essentially material, product, open-source property to be repackaged and exchanged.

And yes, partly this is because United are United, the entity that continues to feed the cycle, a big club that must constantly be producing the big feelings. However, partly this is a seasonal affliction, a swing of opinion most clearly and cruelly observed at this time of year, about a month after the transfer market shut. Throughout the summer we have been coveting players, eulogising them, salivating over them. Yet, just a few weeks in, many of those very players are already being dismissed as broken goods. Should we start to be concerned about a new signing? Was Arsenal's purchase of Viktor Gyökeres necessary? What was the purpose of Randal Kolo Muani?

The Bigger Picture

It seems fitting that Sesko faces their rivals on Sunday: a team at once 13 months unbeaten at their stadium in the Premier League and somehow in their own state of perceived turmoil, like filing a a report on someone who went to the shops half an hour ago. Defensively suspect. Their star finished. The striker an expensive flop. The coach bald.

Perhaps we have not yet quite grasped the way the storyline of football has begun to supplant football the actual game, to inflect the way we watch it, an whole competition reoriented around talking points and reaction, an activity that occurs in the background while we scroll through our devices, unable to disconnect from the saline drip of opinions and more takes. It may be Sesko taking the hit right now. However, everyone is losing a part of the experience in this process.