There is real tragedy in this week’s story of the three-year-old Florida boy whose parents claimed he was so good at soccer that police were called to do what opposing defenders couldn’t. But it doesn’t lie where the outrage cycle wants you to think. It’s broader, implicates more people, and to me, is far more depressing.

You may have seen the video by now. Here was a toddler with fabulous soccer talent, running end-to-end and scoring goal after goal against opponents who have seemingly just found their feet. The cameraman, later identified as the child’s father, loudly and proudly cheers his son on. Way to go, kid.

Then, an abrupt cut to the parents speaking with two police officers from the Orlando suburb of Winter Park. “They called the police on a three-year-old, because he’s too good,” one of the parents says. An officer responds: “They’re wanting you guys to head out, OK?” The parents ask: “You’re confused too, right?”

In the final shot, his mother says: “This is the biggest part of it. We’re trying to put a show on in front of these people. It’s all on [TikTok] Live. There’s thousands of people watching this. He’s famous. There’s thousands of people watching this.”

The story quickly became national news. It was easy to see why. It appeared to take in so many flawed aspects of America: the commoditization of youth sports, overbearing parents, police called for seemingly minor infractions, a social media pile-on and race relations (the child and his parents are Black, the majority of the other children and their parents in the clip were white). Celebrities quickly weighed in to give the story even more life, among them US international Alex Freeman and children’s edutainer Ms Rachel. Civil rights attorney Ben Crump threw his hat in the ring.

But the story is more complicated than the viral video suggested. Police dispatch records, 911 calls and body-camera footage obtained and reviewed by the Guardian offer a fuller picture of what happened on Saturday morning. The organizer, who is also Black, acknowledged that the boy was unusually talented but told officers he had been pushing other children and that his parents had become argumentative. The organizer said he had been rotating players to ensure everyone got a turn, and that the parents had argued with other families. That approach was consistent with i9 Sports’ stated philosophy, which emphasizes fun, inclusion and equal playing time regardless of ability. In a 911 call obtained by the Guardian, the organizer complained of an allegedly disruptive parent who was following him around, calling him names and livestreaming their confrontation. He also referred to the family’s large Instagram following in remarks captured on body-camera footage. The parents offered a sharply different account, insisting that their son was being unfairly singled out because of his ability. Officers, who had not witnessed the dispute, treated it as a civil matter and discussed arranging a refund. No arrests were made.

When the scenes in Winter Park first landed on my feeds on Saturday night, my initial reaction was largely in line with the popular discourse. But even as I learned more, a shot near the end has continued to haunt me. The camera’s edge catches a glimpse of the youngster, visibly confused, already overwhelmed. He couldn’t have known that he’d become a main character of this week’s internet. An audience of mere thousands was about to seem tiny.

Neil Postman got famous arguing that modern media amounts to “amusing ourselves to death”. A few generations on, that phrase is showing its age. Not for its core messaging, but for the implication that amusement is the point. Platforms ensnare users with endless scrolling, fueled by algorithms to extract every penny from one’s pocket and every second from one’s existence. Even if this was the worst day of this kid’s life (or, at least, his worst day so far), that wasn’t the point. The idea that this is an incident with plenty of nuance to consider is immaterial. It was engagement fodder, fresh and meaty ragebait for the ravenous masses to consume and proliferate.

At this point, it’s worth acknowledging that even if the initial video had accurately conveyed the reason for the police’s summoning – which, understandably, the parents couldn’t immediately discern – we may have ended up in the same place. There are countless stories of parents crossing lines at youth sports events, including some that were more worthy of law enforcement. That aspect of this all has largely fallen on deaf ears.

The livestream raises another question, too: what about the other children playing that morning, whose images may have been broadcast to thousands of strangers without their parents ever consenting to such exposure? That point would seem salient enough, and is worth a closer look.

So quickly has this story gone viral that most of us have overlooked one crucial detail: the player involved at the heart of all this is three years old. A toddler. By any criteria, the boy is far too young to be platformed like this, whether by his parents or by the various companies that have leapt on to the story: Jay-Z’s sports and entertainment agency Roc Nation has offered to fly the boy to Spain for “an impactful athletic experience”.

Our culture has ignored any teachable moments from the hype trains that pushed LeBron James, Tiger Woods and Freddy Adu front and center well before they turned 18. Countless parents aspire to turn their children into the next viral sensation, as if that’s a healthy and wise idea. Three-year-olds often can’t keep within the lines of their coloring books, much less understand the ramifications of a grift.

As of Wednesday, the young athlete has nearly 900,000 followers on Instagram and 1.2 million on TikTok. One especially ghoulish post from Monday shows his likeness thrown into a dozen different AI-generated “ads” to position the toddler as a spokesperson for cereal, sugary drinks and athletic gear.

He’s clearly not making these posts himself. It’s hard to imagine he’s asking to become another in an endless and tired trend of athletes turned influencers. Yet his profile has two links: an email address for inquiries – introducing this winter’s hot toy, My Little Inbox – and a GoFundMe to “support [his] soccer journey”, with a claim that this is all about “protecting [his] passion for soccer”. As of Wednesday night, the fundraiser had raised more than $49,000, comfortably surpassing its $30,000 goal.

Hopefully he can soon enjoy the anonymity that nearly every other three-year-old enjoys. To grow up as a child rather than as a commodity. To continue playing sports because he loves them, not because there’s a buck to be made.

But maybe that window has already slammed shut. There were too many clicks to be generated, too much engagement to be had. In this case, across the board, the grownups and their machines have let him down. The question now is whether they’ll allow him to be a child again.