Picture the following: a happy the Danish striker in a Napoli shirt. Next, place it with a sad-looking the Slovenian forward sporting United's jersey, appearing like he just missed a sitter. Don't bother finding an actual photo of that miss; background information is your adversary. Then, include statistics in a big, comical font. Remember the emojis. Post the image across all platforms.
Would you point out that Højlund's tally includes scores in the Champions League while Sesko isn't playing in continental tournaments? Of course not. Nor would you note that several of the Dane's goals were scored versus Belarus and Greece, or that his national team is much stronger to Slovenia and creates many more chances. If you manage online for a large outlet, pure interaction is your livelihood, Manchester United are the prime target, and nuance is your sworn enemy.
Thus the cycle of content spins. The next job is to sift through a lengthy podcast with the legendary goalkeeper and find the part where he describes the signing of Sesko "strange". Just before, where Schmeichel prefaces his comments by saying, "Nothing negative to say about Benjamin Sesko"... yes, remove that part. No one wants that. Just ensure "weird" and "Sesko" appear together in the title. People will be furious.
Mid-autumn has traditionally one of my favourite times to watch football. The leaves swirl, the wind turns, squads and strategies are still fresh, everything is new and yet patterns are emerging. Key players of the season ahead are planting their flags. The transfer window is shut. No one is mentioning the multiple trophies yet. Everyone are still in the game. At this precise point, all is possibility.
Yet, for many of the same reasons, mid-autumn has long been one of my most disliked times to consume news on football. Because although no outcomes are decided, something must always be getting settled. The City winger is reborn. The German talent has been a crushing disappointment. Is Antoine Semenyo the top performer in the league at this moment? Please a decision immediately.
In many ways, Sesko feels like Patient Zero in this context, a player caught between football's two countervailing, non-negotiable forces. The imperative to withhold final conclusions, to let technical development and strategic understanding to develop. And the demand to produce instant verdicts, a constant stream of takes and jokes, out-of-context condemnations and meaningless contrasts, a square that can not truly be circled.
It is not my aim to offer a in-depth analysis of Sesko's time at United so far. The guy has been in the lineup four times in the Premier League in a highly unpredictable team, scored two goals, and taken a mere of 116 touches. What precisely are we evaluating? Nor will I attempt to replicate the pundits' notable debate "Argument Over Benjamin Sesko", in which two of England's leading pundits duel passionately on a podcast over whether Sesko needs ten strikes to be deemed successful this year (Neville), or whether it is 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 pitched perfectly to his abilities: afforded the freedom to attack but also the freedom to miss. Partly this is why Manchester United feels like the most unforgiving place he could possibly be at the moment: a place where "harsh judgments" are summarily issued in about the time it takes to load a pre-roll ad, the club with the largest and most pitiless gap between the time and air he needs, and the time and air he is going to get.
We saw an example of this during the international break, when a widely shared infographic handily informed us that Sesko had been judged – decisively – the poorest acquisition of the recent market by a poll of 20 agents. Naturally, the media are by no means the only ones in such behavior. Club channels, influencers, unidentified profiles with a oddly high number of fake followers: everybody with a vested interest is now essentially operating 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 endless sluice of irritation is doing to our minds? Quite apart from the essential weirdness of being a player in the middle of it all, aware on a bizarre chain-reaction level that every single thing about them is now basically material, commodity, open-source property to be packaged and exchanged.
Indeed, in part this is because it's Manchester United, the entity that continues to feed the narrative, a big club that must always be generating the strong emotions. But also, partly this is a temporary malaise, a pendulum of judgment most visibly and harshly glimpsed at this season, roughly four weeks after the transfer market shut. All summer long we have been coveting players, eulogising them, salivating over them. Now, just a few weeks in, many of those same players are now being dismissed as broken goods. Is it time to worry about Jamie Gittens? Was Arsenal's purchase of their striker necessary? What was the point of Randal Kolo Muani?
It feels appropriate that Sesko meets their rivals on Sunday: a team at once on a long unbeaten run at their stadium in the Premier League and yet in their own state of feverish crisis, like filing a missing person’s report on a person who popped to the store half an hour ago. Defensively suspect. Their star past his prime. Alexander Isak an expensive flop. The coach losing his hair.
Maybe we have not yet quite grasped the way the narrative 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, something that happens in the background while we scroll through our devices, unable to detach from the constant flow of opinions and more takes. It may be this player bearing the brunt right now. However, everyone is sacrificing a part of the experience here.
Lena is a mindfulness coach and writer passionate about helping others find clarity and purpose through practical advice and reflective practices.