Picture this: a smiling the Danish striker in a Napoli shirt. Now, juxtapose that with a dejected Benjamin Sesko in a Manchester United kit, appearing like he just missed a sitter. Don't bother locating an actual photo of that miss; context is the enemy. Then, add statistics in a big, comical font. Don't forget the emojis. Share it across all platforms.
Would you point out that Højlund's tally includes strikes in the premier European competition while his counterpart does not compete in continental tournaments? Certainly not. And will you note that four of the Dane's goals were scored versus weaker national sides, or that Denmark is far superior to Slovenia and generates many more chances. If you run social media for a major brand, raw interaction is what pays the bills, United are the biggest draw, and nuance is your sworn enemy.
Thus the wheel of content spins. The next job is to scan a lengthy podcast with the legendary goalkeeper and extract the part where he calls the signing of Sesko "weird". There's a bit, where Schmeichel prefaces his remarks by saying, "I have nothing bad to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, cut that. No one wants that. Just make sure "strange" and "the player" are paired in the title. The audience will be outraged.
The heart of fall has long been one of my preferred times to watch football. The leaves swirl, winds shift, the teams and tactics are newly formed, everything is new and yet everything is beginning to form. The stars of the coming months are planting their flags. The summer market is shut. Nobody is mentioning the multiple trophies yet. All teams are in contention. Right now, all is possibility.
However, for similar reasons, this period has also been one of my least favourite times to consume news on football. Because although nothing has yet been settled, opinions must be formed immediately. The City winger is reborn. Florian Wirtz has been a major letdown. Could Semenyo be the best player in the league at this moment? Please a decision immediately.
And for numerous reasons, Sesko feels like the archetype in this context, a player caught between football's two countervailing, non-negotiable forces. The need to delay final conclusions, allowing layers of technical texture and tactical sophistication to develop. And the imperative to generate permanent definitive judgment, a constant stream of takes and memes, context-free criticisms and pointless contrasts, a puzzle that can never truly be circled.
I do not propose to provide a in-depth evaluation of Sesko's time at United so far. The guy has been in the lineup on four occasions in the top flight in a wildly inconsistent team, found the net twice, and taken a grand total of 116 contacts with the ball. What exactly are we evaluating? And do I propose to duplicate Gary Neville's and Ian Wright's seminal masterwork "Argument Over Benjamin Sesko", in which two famous analysts duel passionately on a popular show over whether he needs 10 goals to be a success this year (Neville), or whether it is more like 12 or 13 (the other).
For all this I enjoyed watching Sesko at his former club: a powerful, screeching sports car of a striker, playing in a team pitched perfectly to his abilities: 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 handed down in about the time it takes to load a pre-roll ad, the club with the largest and most ruthless gap between the patience and space he needs, and the time and air he is likely to receive.
We saw an example of this over the national team pause, when a widely shared chart conveniently informed us that Sesko had been deemed – decisively – the poorest acquisition of the recent market by a survey of 20 agents. And of course, the press are by no means alone in such behavior. Team social media, online personalities, anonymous X accounts with a oddly high number of fake followers: everybody with a vested interest is now essentially aligned along the same principles, an environment deliberately nosed towards provocation.
Endless scrolling and tapping. What are we doing to ourselves? Do we realize, on some level, what this infinite sluice of aggravation is doing to our minds? Quite apart from the essential weirdness of being a player in the center of it all, aware on a bizarre butterfly-effect level that each aspect about them is now basically material, commodity, public property to be repackaged and traded.
And yes, in part this is because it's Manchester United, the entity that keeps nourishing the narrative, a big club that must always be producing the big feelings. But also, partly this is a temporary malaise, a swing of opinion most clearly and cruelly observed at this season, about a month after the transfer market shut. Throughout the summer we have been desiring players, praising them, salivating over them. Yet, just a few weeks in, many of those same players are already being disdained as broken goods. Should we start to worry about Jamie Gittens? Did Arsenal actually need their striker necessary? What was the point of another expensive buy?
It feels appropriate that Sesko faces their rivals on Sunday: a team simultaneously 13 months unbeaten at their stadium in the Premier League and yet in their own state of perceived turmoil, like filing a a report on someone who popped to the shops half an hour ago. Too open. Their star past his prime. Alexander Isak an expensive flop. The coach losing his hair.
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 view it, an whole competition reoriented around discussion topics and reaction, something that occurs in the backdrop while we scroll through our devices, unable to disconnect from the saline drip of takes and further hot takes. It may be this player taking the hit right now. But in a way, we're all sacrificing something in this process.
Seasoned blackjack enthusiast and strategy coach with over a decade of experience in casino gaming.