Eagles' Roseman more friendly & open than before

IT IS A formidable undertaking, and amusing to observe.

Howie Roseman is trying to reconstruct his image.

Once defensive, sometimes feral, Roseman now patiently explains decisions. He has forsaken acceptance into the testosterone-driven Old Boys Network. Smallish and bookish, Roseman is resigned to the fact that he can never be Ozzie Newsome; better, then, to emulate Theo Epstein.

Roseman, the Eagles' general manager from 2010-14, was deposed in 2015 by Chip Kelly. He moved his office across the NovaCare Complex. More significantly, he began a process of introspection that helped him reascend in December, after owner Jeffrey Lurie fired Kelly. The process continues.

He ignores small slights. He concentrates on ultimate goals.

You expect him to speak object-subject-verb, so chilled out he is. Does he consciously seek this new, Zen-like state?

"I do," Roseman said. There used to be an edge in his voice. It has softened.

"I had an opportunity to look back and see . . . what are the most important things? Someone gave me this line: 'Keep the main the main thing.' We are being very clear in our minds about what that is, and what that means."

What that means, of course, is building the best Eagles organization possible, for the longest time. Roseman's self-reconstruction is as unlikely as his chance to rebuild the team he has spent 16 years nurturing.

"When you're in this position - a position I really didn't anticipate ever being in again, here - it's important to make sure that you do it with no regrets," Roseman said. "And do the right things."

For better or worse, the Eagles will grow in his new image. He might be kinder, gentler, but better? Benevolence does not necessarily beget brilliance. No one will ever accuse of Parcells, Coughlin and Belichick of great generosity and inclusive warmth. But then, caustic arrogance does not work for everyone.

King Howie has learned that commerce works better when he builds bridges, not walls.

That is the root of the difference in Howie 2.0. This is a different man from the Howie Roseman who unseated his mentor, Joe Banner, then fired his football father, Andy Reid, then gambled everything on Chip Kelly, a cheater in college who, after two years, (predictably) betrayed Roseman.

Before Kelly's betrayal, Roseman saw before him only the next task; the next scouting trip, the next contract negotiation, the next veteran to be cut or traded. Players were commodities, like so many pork bellies.

Now, the players, to him, are people. King Howie has lost battles, has been held hostage, then has been ransomed, by fate and a lousy offensive line.

His rise was a storybook thing. Banner favored him in 2000 with a position of numbers runner, a menial job for a guy with a law degree. He was Banner's chief assistant within three years, a risen star by 2007 and, by 2008, effectively the top scout on the team. He was general manager by 2010 and hired Kelly in 2013.

He's still just 40. Rookie head coach Doug Pederson is 48. Men who are Howie's age tend to change a lot. He still has young children. He's still learning humility.

Other longtime employees in the front office see the change. So do two of the agents we asked, and one other NFL insider.

Roseman might not exactly be Jimmy Carter, all detente and collaboration, but he's further from Nikita Khrushchev than he was. This Roseman rules with a wisdom born of defeat. He lives with scars.

So, now, he seeks alliances. He explains strategies. He falls on swords that do not yet exist. For instance, he took blame for Sam Bradford's contract extension, an extravagant, short-term deal for two years and $35 million. He takes full responsibility for trading up, twice, to draft Carson Wentz.

He allows a measure of transparency and sincerity that simply did not exist before his banishment, the consistent feature of his interviews during the draft last week. Consider his handling of Wendell Smallwood, a running back whose indiscreet tweets and whose alleged involvement in a witness-tampering case raised eyebrows on draft day.

"People try and start clearing their social media," Roseman said.

With that phrase, Roseman gave a glimpse of the Eagles' thoroughness in investigating even minor picks and how much importance the Birds placed on players who did not try to hide from their past poor Twitter decisions.

"I'm not sitting up here saying this is LeSean McCoy in the fifth round," Roseman said.

This was a clever and subtle shot at Kelly, who catastrophically traded McCoy for meager return; and, it served to temper expectations about Smallwood.

Smallwood's agent advised him to not work out for teams at visits, but, said Roseman, Smallwood told the Eagles, "I'll go work out right now!"

That's the sort of minor, revealing detail the old King Howie never provided.

To this point. the change is real and consistent. That is the observation from the outside. Change is never guaranteed permanence.

Roseman might revert, when pressures increase at training camp or when prospects falter or during the season when coaches and players fail.

Moreover, this transformation might mean nothing when it comes to assembling a coaching staff and a roster. Pederson & Co. might be overmatched. Wentz might be a bust.

However, the change might help avert some of the franchise's recent disasters: Hiring Kelly and defensive coordinator Billy Davis; drafting Marcus Smith; cutting DeSean Jackson; extending Riley Cooper. Each of these moves smacked of bravado; of, "I'm smarter than you."

The new moves - Wentz, the numerous contract extensions, adding veteran depth on the line - they seem more sound, made as much for sustainability as for immediate gain. To that end, Roseman acquired a total of zero players on draft night who are expected to see playing time this season. This draft was all about patience, his exercising of it, and candor afterward.

Roseman admitted nervousness as he stewed between picks 79 and 153. He admitted they expected to draft a defensive tackle, and failed. He repeatedly recounted Eagles' discussions about moving up and down at different points.

In fact, he said the team nearly blew its chance to draft giant tackle Halapoulivaati Vaitai. He nearly traded one spot back, with the Browns, who later told the Eagles they would have taken Vaitai.

When's the last time a GM told a story about nearly blowing it?

Again, all of this might mean nothing in two months, or two years. Everything might collapse.

For the moment, Roseman is dealing with the Sam Bradford and Fletcher Cox situations . . . calmly. Bradford, who several times declined a long-term deal over the past year, signed his contract extension in March, then, incredibly, abandoned the team last week on the eve of the draft. He was upset Roseman had traded up to draft franchise QB Carson Wentz. Roseman also is seeking to pacify star defensive tackle Fletcher Cox, who is wants a landmark deal.

Neither player is attending voluntary workouts.

King Howie is handling both situations with alarming candor and aplomb.

He says the team wants to give Cox a huge deal.

While Pederson has warned Bradford he might lose his starting job, Roseman offered no criticism. He threatens no hint of recrimination.

Maybe that is the right reaction. Maybe not. Certainly, it is a more mature reaction.

At the draft, Roseman began his fourth press conference in three days with an exhausted sigh and, then: "It's Saturday night. Everybody wants to go home."

Two years ago, King Howie wouldn't have cared if it was a federal holiday.

Now, Roseman just wanted to see his kids.

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