Elara is a seasoned software engineer and tech writer, passionate about demystifying complex technologies and sharing actionable advice.
Picture this: a happy Rasmus Højlund wearing Napoli's colors. Now, juxtapose it with a sad-looking the Slovenian forward in a Manchester United kit, looking as if he's missed a sitter. Don't bother finding a real picture of that miss; context is the enemy. Then, add some goal stats in a big, comical font. Don't forget some emoticons. Share it across all platforms.
Will you point out that Højlund's goal count includes strikes in the Champions League while his counterpart isn't playing in continental tournaments? Certainly not. Nor will you highlight that four of the Dane's goals came against weaker national sides, or that his national team is much stronger to Slovenia and creates many more chances. You manage social media for a major brand, pure engagement is your livelihood, Manchester United are the biggest draw, and context is your sworn enemy.
So the cycle of content turns. Your next task is to scan a lengthy podcast with the legendary goalkeeper and extract the part where he describes the signing of Sesko "weird". There's a bit, where Schmeichel qualifies his remarks by saying, "I have nothing bad to say about Benjamin Sesko"... well, remove that part. No one needs that. Simply ensure "weird" and "Sesko" are paired in the title. People will be outraged.
Mid-autumn has long been one of my preferred periods to observe football. The leaves swirl, winds shift, squads and strategies are still fresh, everything is new and yet patterns are emerging. Key players of the season ahead are staking their claims. The transfer window is shut. Nobody is talking about the quadruple yet. All teams are still in the game. At this precise point, anything is possible.
Yet, for many of the same reasons, this period has long been one of my most disliked times to read about football. Because although no outcomes are decided, something must always be getting settled. Jack Grealish is reborn. Florian Wirtz has been a crushing disappointment. Could Semenyo be the top performer in the league right now? Please an answer immediately.
And for numerous reasons, Sesko feels like Patient Zero in this respect, a player inextricably trapped between football's opposing, unavoidable forces. The imperative to withhold definitive judgment, to let layers of technical texture and tactical sophistication to mature. And the demand to generate permanent verdicts, a constant stream of opinions and jokes, context-free criticisms and pointless contrasts, a square that can not truly be solved.
I do not propose to offer a substantive evaluation of Sesko's time at United so far. The guy has been in the lineup on four occasions in the Premier League in a wildly inconsistent team, found the net twice, and had a mere 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 passionately on a podcast over whether Sesko needs 10 goals to be deemed successful this year (Neville), or whether it is more like twelve or thirteen (the other).
Despite this I loved watching him at his former club: a powerful, fast sports car of a striker, playing in a team ideally suited to his abilities: given the license to attack but also the freedom to fail. Partly this is why United feels like the most unforgiving place he could possibly be right now: a place where "harsh judgments" are summarily issued in roughly the duration it takes to watch a short advertisement, the club with the largest and most pitiless gulf between the time and air he needs, and the time and air he is likely to receive.
We saw an example of this during the international break, when a viral chart handily informed us that Sesko had been judged – by a wide margin – the poorest acquisition of the recent market by a poll of football representatives. Naturally, the media are not the only ones in this. Team social media, influencers, unidentified profiles with a suspiciously high number of pornbot followers: everybody with a vested interest is now basically aligned along the identical rules, an environment deliberately nosed towards controversy.
Scroll, scroll, tap, scroll. What is happening to us? Do we realize, on any level, what this endless stream of irritation is doing to our brains? Separate from the inherent strangeness of playing in the middle of it all, aware on some surreal butterfly-effect level that each aspect about them is now basically content, commodity, public property to be packaged and traded.
Indeed, partly this is because it's Manchester United, the entity that continues to feed the cycle, a big club that must constantly be generating the big feelings. But also, partly this is a seasonal affliction, a pendulum of judgment most clearly and harshly glimpsed at this time of year, about a month after the window has closed. All summer long we have been desiring footballers, eulogising them, salivating over them. Now, only a handful of games later, many of those very players are now being dismissed as broken goods. Should we start to be concerned about Jamie Gittens? Did Arsenal actually need Viktor Gyökeres wise? What was the point of another expensive buy?
It feels appropriate that he meets their rivals on Sunday: a team at once 13 months unbeaten at their stadium in the league and yet in their own situation of perceived turmoil, like submitting a a report on a person who went to the store 30 minutes ago. Too open. Mohamed Salah past his prime. Alexander Isak an expensive flop. The coach losing his hair.
Perhaps we have failed to understand the way the narrative of football has started to replace football itself, to inflect the way we view it, an entire sport reoriented around talking points and immediate responses, something that occurs in the backdrop while we scroll through our phones, incapable to disconnect from the constant flow of opinions and more takes. Perhaps Sesko bearing the brunt right now. But in a way, everyone is losing something here.
Elara is a seasoned software engineer and tech writer, passionate about demystifying complex technologies and sharing actionable advice.