What is it about Paul Pogba that makes British people so angry?

Football is a reflection of society, just as many of the enduring institutions in Britain are. Parliament, the City, the Church of England and all kinds of other things come together to show and reinforce what the British people are. It’s not exact, obviously, but if you look at British politics you would have shown at you what Britain’s nerve points are – they fetishise the army, nurses, grand political gestures and petty nationalism, but they won’t actually pay enough taxes or behave with consideration in order to maximise the possible good done, and minimise the harm done. Football, in its treatment of a certain kind of young person, reflects another, even meaner and unpleasant strain.

Think about the treatment of Paul Pogba since he has come back to England from Juventus. Juventus and their fans knew what they were losing – a young midfielder with the potential to be the best attacking midfielder in years, with the body and technique to achieve things that few others have ever done before. He played along Andrea Pirlo, Claudio Marchisio and Arturo Vidal, amazing players to learn from and to give him support.

He moved this summer to Manchester United, and has intermittently impressed. The range of his passing is quite exceptional. He is still only 23 though, and he plays alongside Michael Carrick – in decay – and Ander Herrera – a brittle irritant. This is not the same as the teammates he had alongside him in Italy, nor are United anywhere near the quality of Juventus. He has underperformed what you might expect from a £90 million player, but United didn’t buy him mainly for now, they bought him for the long-term. If you don’t believe that he will be a good buy over the next few years, fair enough. You’re probably wrong, but that is the only useful judgement to be making. Six months in this side, next to Phil Jones, is a pointlessly small and particular sample size. We are all grown ups, and it would become us to occasionally behave like that. It is worth noting that Jamie Carragher, who donated to Andy Burnham’s anti-immigrant leadership campaign, and complained about French people speaking French in his autobiography, criticised him last night. So did Frank Lampard, a man who finds Donald Trump ‘fascinating’, and votes for the Tory government who are currently trying to stop foreigners coming into the country with no regard for common economic sense, or decency towards refugees.

What, then, as a country, have we done? We have called Pogba a fraud countless times. We have made fun of him for having his hair cut. He dabs, and he dances in videos. His social media seems to show him having fun with his friends and dancing. He does advertisements for Adidas with Stormzy. He doesn’t seem to booze excessively, if at all. He doesn’t seem to be out until 4am in the morning, slurring in videos with boxers after their fights. He isn’t found half-conscious after a bout with laughing gas. He does dance, though, and he is friendly with his brothers.

Then, there’s his teammate at United, Jesse Lingard, who he has been friends with since their time together in the youth sides. Lingard isn’t a gifted footballer. Realistically, he doesn’t have the talent to maintain a career at Old Trafford unless they continue to underachieve, or unless he puts in as much hard work as Darren Fletcher did when he was of a similar age. He is certainly better than Phil Jones, Matteo Darmian and others in the United squad who are given far less grief. The causes of his criticism are that he dicks about on social media. But what really seems to grate is that he is friends with Pogba, and that he dances with him. He is a bit irritating, but the vituperative attacks he receives for being a daft, happy local man who plays for United and takes clear glee in it, is perplexing.

Staying with Manchester United, there’s Anthony Martial who also gets criticism. Last season, he was United’s best player, showed bravery and prowess to rise above the drudgery around him to play exciting football and score exciting goals. He didn’t smile, much, though. This season, his form has dipped, as it does for many youngsters in their second seasons at big clubs. We know there are plenty of reasons for his underperformance, and his agent has been outspoken in the press about his lack of game time – something that Martial made a rare statement about to counter, to some degree. The problems this season seem to focus on him looking like a ‘slapped arse’ and moody on the pitch. Just as he did last season, when he looked brilliant.

Leaving Old Trafford, to go down the road a wee distance, we come to the two snakes, Fabian Delph and Raheem Sterling. Sterling left Liverpool, then managed by the buffoonish Brendan Rodgers and overseeing another tilt at under-funded calamity. Delph changed his mind to leave Aston Villa, who were then relegated after mismanagement and lack of interest from the current owner. They both left knowing that they were going to regularly play in the Champions League, and for a club that was all but certain to appoint Pep Guardiola in the summer.

Sterling, in particular, has been admonished. He has willfully bought a car that he can afford. He has even gone to Greggs, to buy affordable food at a chain so popular there was an outcry that its products might be levied with more tax by the government. He is a disgustingly profligate player who spends both too much and too little, who showed the ambition to move to a club for more wages and a better prospect. A snake.

As said at the start, football reflects society, and we can think of other public figures who receive more criticism than even makes sense. Take Diane Abbott, for example, a woman who is told to ‘**** off’ by incredibly incompetent colleagues, like Jess Phillips – who despite having no accomplishments, is celebrated as a feminist icon. Abbott receives constant abuse. There is Kanye West, who produces some of the best music of the century and shows a flair for fashion, who gets grief for having the temerity to play Glastonbury. There’s Beyonce, a woman with remarkably astute politics and who also manages to produce some of the best pop music in the world. And there’s Serena Williams, who has dominated modern sport in a way few people ever have.

It is hard to think of all these figures, who take either fairly sensible decisions, and at the same time produce brilliance, but who have occasional flaws, and fail to notice how angry they make people for being happy in their success. Much of Britain is united in their hatred and contempt for these people, in football as well as other spheres. If only we could work out just what the common factor was.