ALinChainz
06-07-2004, 04:37 PM
By Paul Attner - SportingNews
Just inside the soaring entry hall of his mini-mansion in suburban Atlanta is a bust of Terrell Owens. Sitting on a pedestal, molded from stark white plaster, it radiates a godlike aura, his chest and abs cut in ripped symmetry, his head shaven, his face serious and powerful. It is simple, clean, uncluttered, unlike his NFL career. Owens yearns to be everything represented by that sculpture -- a gallant figure revered for his gifts. But he never has figured out how, never has been able to stay on a path that would allow his talents -- not his antics -- to define him.
Now, with an opportunity that seems heaven-sent, he has another shot at crafting his legacy, linked as he will be this season to the quarterback of his desires on a team he courted, in a city desperate for a Super Bowl victory, with fans convinced that his presence will end the agony of three straight losses in the NFC championship game. Philly fanatics don't care about Sharpies and dances on the midfield star at Texas Stadium and angry sideline venting and all the rest. He hasn't caught a pass as an Eagle, but he already is a town hero. He always has wanted to be the next Jerry Rice, but things got messed up along the way. Now it's time to get it all sorted out.
Owens knows what should happen: This season, the Eagles finally advance to the Super Bowl. "They got to the NFC (championship) game without me, and now they have me, so why not?"
But first, he has to get by the matter of tights. "I don't understand," says Owens, 30. He's sitting in his massive family room. All around him are his play toys -- the swimming pool fed by a small waterfall, the weight room and indoor basketball court and game rooms and a sanctuary he calls his chocolate room (everything in it is chocolate colored), where he has his computer and plasma television. Access to the play room is by code only, so no one can invade his privacy without his permission. What he doesn't understand on this day is coach Andy Reid's rule against players wearing tights to practice unless they are covered by shorts.
"My biggest adjustment isn't the new team or the plays, but wearing shorts over my tights," he says. "What does that have to do with how I practice?" Since early in his NFL career, he has worn tights; that's what Rice did. But Reid wants his players in black shorts. After the first practice at his first Eagles minicamp, an assistant coach had to tell Owens to put on shorts. He spent the next days walking by Reid, telling him, "These shorts suck." Reid could only laugh.
But Owens is serious. "If I just have my tights on, I feel smooth, fluid, Spider-Man-like. I have given up a lot; for me to wear tights wouldn't be much. At least give me a little leash. I understand having structure, and I guess that is him making a statement. I don't have any problem with that, but it's a big adjustment."
At last week's second minicamp, it was something else. He fretted that not enough passes were thrown his way during a 7-on-7 drill. You can see eyes rolling in San Francisco. For sure, this is T.O. being T.O.; there is part of him that always believes he should have freedom to be a little individualistic within a team sport, new uniform or not. It is why 49ers running back Kevan Barlow once described his friend as "very different." It is why the market would have been limited for Owens had he become a free agent in March. It is why 49ers management finally gave up on its best offensive player. It is why he feels frustrated and misunderstood, why he generates so much discontent and anger from so many fans who view him as symbolic of a generation of self-centered, me-first athletes.
Yet it also is why his Eagles No. 81 jersey already is the league's No. 1 seller, surpassing Michael Vick's No. 7. This is Owens' supporters voting with their wallets; they love him as an entertainer having fun, willing to stake out his space, tweaking the unbending stuffiness of his profession. Derrick Deese, a former 49ers tackle now with the Bucs, is convinced Owens will be fine in Philadelphia. "He doesn't like to be considered a bad guy, and he knows what this means to him," Deese says.
Everyone should rest easy. For this season, at least, Owens will perform at a level surpassing his best years with the 49ers, making a strong case he's the NFL's premier receiver. He'll also drop some passes, he'll be booed by the locals, and he won't like it. But he'll deal with it. He'll give Reid a chance to be the male presence in his life that he has long lacked and badly needed. Even when he tests the limits of Reid's authority -- and he will -- the problems will not erode the fabric of the locker room, as they did with the 49ers. And his love affair with Donovan McNabb will be strong enough so that when the passes aren't as precise as he wants, or he doesn't get the ball as much as he hopes, he'll give McNabb leeway he never afforded Jeff Garcia.
"Dude, this is what I wanted, so there are no excuses," he says. "It is so refreshing knowing you are getting a new start. I'd say a clean slate, but it's not really. People still will dig up what I did in San Francisco. Is he going to blow up? Is he going to get along with his teammates, with his quarterback? I guess if we don't (get to a Super Bowl), I am a failure. ... I wasn't the savior. I am already expecting all of that. It comes with the territory.
"But now I can play free. I can play totally wide open. I envision myself doing things that Jerry did. I know the ability I have. They can say anything they want to say about me, but not about my game. I have shocked myself by some of the things I do as a player."
He says he has learned. "I've learned that everyone is not going to like everything you do. After the Sharpie incident, I had people tell me they enjoyed it, lots more than those who didn't. Looking at the Dallas thing, maybe it was a little excessive, but at the time you don't think about that. I was just out there having fun. But I don't regret it. I know now whatever I do comes with a microscope. I will handle things better because you get wiser as you get older. You learn from your mistakes." But part of him always thinks: I never have been arrested, never done drugs, never done anything bad. Just said some things and entertained a bit and really, what is wrong with that?
Near the end of the last practice of the first minicamp, Reid scripts a red zone segment. McNabb and Owens dominate, men playing against boys. Owens simply is too strong, too fast, too good. It is a long way until September, but the Eagles under Reid never have seen anything like Owens -- a receiver who can successfully finish off scoring chances. "He has the size over the middle, the ability to break tackles," says Ravens general manager Ozzie Newsome. "He's a deep threat and a possession guy. All that makes him very scary."
"Donovan and I can be dangerous together; there is no limit to what we can accomplish," says Owens, who should be comfortable in the Eagles' West Coast offense after playing in a similar scheme with the 49ers. "If I'm open behind everyone, at least the ball won't be thrown short." That's because McNabb has the strong arm Garcia lacked. Over the past five years, Owens has had the most yards after catch among the league's wide receivers, a consistent weakness with Eagles receivers. But now, working with McNabb, Owens will be able to expand his downfield effectiveness, a part of his game we haven't seen before. McNabb is good for Owens in other ways. He is on a constant high, a jokester who will help mitigate T.O.'s mood swings and head off Owens when he starts down a controversial trail. It is interesting seeing them together, the clowning McNabb trying to loosen up the super-serious, brooding Owens, who admits he needs to laugh more. They already were friends from playing together in Pro Bowls. Owens and Garcia never were buddies. Owens admired Garcia's toughness but not his game, and the quarterback's personality wasn't forceful enough to confront Owens. But Owens gushes over McNabb's skills and respects him as a man. He sees the two as equals, and that is huge in determining how they will co-exist.
Owens once sat in a steam room with Garcia and told him, "This is your team. They pay you a lot of money to be the quarterback. Sometimes you just have to take control." It's hard imagining him ever having that conversation with McNabb. Yet Owens' presence strips away the one element that has protected McNabb from the nasty fallout generated by the playoff failures. Now that the Eagles no longer lack the playmaking receiver needed to flourish within the postseason crucible, McNabb must step up the quality of his performance, improving both his accuracy and consistency to most effectively use Owens.
But this is what they wanted. Last February, both players showed up at the Pro Bowl in Hawaii, even though they were injured. Like two giggly boys sharing a deep secret, they followed Reid, coach of the NFC team, wherever he went. Walking to the beach, going to a restaurant, strolling to his room, they'd be there, laughing, connected at the hip. "Do we have No. 81 available?" McNabb would ask. "We'd look good together in that green and silver," they'd say.
Owens felt like a first-round pick -- Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis also was courting him -- but Reid understood something else. McNabb, who reads his coach better than any Eagle, was telling him, "This guy is OK; he can fit in." That's what Reid needed to know. This is a team carefully designed to feed off McNabb. Reid would not add anyone who would threaten this dynamic. McNabb's blessing was enough to convince the usually stoic, stern Reid to step away from his image and make room for Owens, a seemingly desperate move for a coach who had shied away from signing high-priced free agents and players with as much baggage as Owens.
There's something else about Reid: He doesn't mind his guys talking smack; he thinks it makes them more competitive, and he encourages them to do it in practice. "And I hope," he says, eyes twinkling, "that I see T.O. do a lot of touchdown celebrations."
Until now, the Eagles have used a receiver-by-committee approach, relying on the draft for upgrades but never finding a difference-maker who could scare defenses -- a weakness particularly glaring in the playoffs. Yet even though the Eagles scored only three points in their loss to Carolina in the NFC title game, Reid stubbornly maintains he wasn't convinced a receiver change was needed.
"Absolutely not," he says. "I was going to get a pass rusher, and we did (former Titans defensive end Jevon Kearse). We could win with our receivers, but this was a unique opportunity. A great player who knows our system doesn't come available very often. But desperate? No."
ESPN analyst Randy Mueller, the ex-Saints general manager, disagrees. "If the need hadn't been so desperate, they wouldn't have gone this route," he says. "T.O. comes with some risks that Andy hasn't needed to take in the past -- the way it could affect chemistry, the bit of negative drain that after a while becomes hard for people to take. I don't think Owens means it -- he is competitive and wants to win -- but the constant chatter and complaining can wear. But having said that, there is not a better fit for him than in Philly. He gives them exactly what they need: a go-to guy on third down, someone who can catch even when covered. But it puts pressure on McNabb. Now if he is what everyone says he is, let's see how he performs."
Friends within the league told Reid to pass on Owens rather than risk disrupting his locker room. But Marty Mornhinweg, once the 49ers' offensive coordinator and now the Eagles' assistant head coach, pushed strongly to acquire him. And former 49ers defensive coordinator Jim Mora, now Atlanta's coach, called Reid to endorse Owens. "The fact that T.O. actively pursued Philly spells trouble for the rest of the league," says Mora. "He wants to be there, and he will buy in. How long the honeymoon will last, I'm not sure, but it will last for sure this year. When he gets his mind set to accomplish something, he is almost unstoppable." Mora told Reid to communicate constantly with Owens. "If you do that, you can earn his trust for life."
But Owens trusts few people. He was raised by his grandmother, a strict woman who protected him from the world by confining him to his own yard. He didn't have many friends as a child and prefers being alone -- he admits to spending hours doing nothing and liking it -- and still, even now, allows only a handful into his inner sanctum, into the chocolate room. There is no middle ground in his world, just the extremes of like and dislike, and once he feels someone crosses him, there is no forgiveness. Like his grandmother, he is not shy about voicing opinions.
Former 49ers coach Steve Mariucci once labeled some of Owens' opinions as "devoid of thought." The two hardly spoke for one season. Reid knows all about what happened in San Francisco; he doesn't expect any repeat performances. "He might not always agree with how I operate, but he'll be fine," Reid says. "Certain things set me off." So don't expect Owens to chew out assistants on the sideline as he did last year with then-49ers coordinator Greg Knapp. Reid certainly is less tolerant and more confrontational than Mariucci. Reid and Owens already have discussed rules and expected behavior; there isn't much wiggle room.
"He said there would be ways of doing things, and I understood that," says Owens. The Eagles also have asked him to reduce his rhetoric about the 49ers. But that request clashes with the anger he still feels. "My frustrations at times came because I know what I could have done to help us win some games that we lost. My production could have been better if I had a quarterback who let it all hang out. But he worried about completion percentages, being safe. If you look at my touchdowns, I had to work for them. It wasn't like I caught a lot of bombs. People say I am selfish. They don't understand. They should look at the tape. I had mismatches that no one took advantage of. I was open long, but the ball wasn't thrown right. I just didn't feel like a lot of guys were committed the last few years to winning a championship, and that is all I am about. I want a ring."
The past few years, Owens feuded with Mariucci, Garcia, the NFL and eventually with management. Ironically, near the end, he became more friendly in the locker room, reaching out to more players socially. "Guys who didn't like what he said had to look at themselves, not him," says Deese. "You are dealing with a guy who is unique, different. He is not going to give political answers."
Consider what Owens has to say about 49ers G.M. Terry Donahue, the focus of most of his lingering bitterness: "He is a joke. Untrustworthy. The 49ers are becoming like the old Bengals." Owens' ire stems from the offseason mess involving his contract. When his agent missed a deadline that would make him a free agent, keeping his rights with the 49ers, Owens was furious that the team wouldn't release him. What happened next unfolded like a soap opera: The 49ers dealt him to the Ravens, even though he said his agent was on the verge of a deal with the Eagles that the 49ers never approved; Owens said he wouldn't play in Baltimore; after an arbitration hearing, a compromise was reached that sent Owens to the Eagles, end Brandon Whiting from the Eagles to the 49ers and a fifth-round draft pick from the Eagles to the Ravens. Owens felt vindicated.
Both Garcia and Donahue want to move on. Since signing with the Browns, Garcia has declined to discuss Owens. "We wish him well," Donahue says of Owens. "He was a great player for us on Sundays." Owens says at some point he will stop talking about the 49ers. Just not now.
That doesn't matter to McNabb. He's just pleased Owens is a teammate. "I was happy Andy made an effort to get him," he says. "It said a lot to the question, 'Would he bring anyone in here (to get better)?' Terrell already has come in here showing his work ethic, and guys who are waiting to see what he will do are impressed, and their attitude changes. This is all about getting past the NFC championship, and obviously we feel that we have filled the missing parts of the puzzle. Now it's about building chemistry. With him, I want to take full advantage of the opportunity. We have a chance to make history, to open up eyes."
For parts of the past two years, Owens has played with his groin muscles so sore they required pain-killing shots for him to play. He has worked religiously this offseason with a trainer in Los Angeles whose specialized program is designed to end his problems. Now, he says he feels great. He is one of the NFL's best-conditioned athletes and one of the most physically impressive. Yet last year he dropped too many passes and failed too often to be a difference-maker. Reid told him to start catching lots of balls in practice, just as he did when he was much younger.
"I admit it; I didn't play like I can last year," Owens says. But that was then. Now he has McNabb. He has hope. He has love. All that is left is for him to play like a receiver from the gods. All of Philly is praying he will.
Senior writer Paul Attner covers the NFL for Sporting News. Email him at attner@sportingnews.com.
Just inside the soaring entry hall of his mini-mansion in suburban Atlanta is a bust of Terrell Owens. Sitting on a pedestal, molded from stark white plaster, it radiates a godlike aura, his chest and abs cut in ripped symmetry, his head shaven, his face serious and powerful. It is simple, clean, uncluttered, unlike his NFL career. Owens yearns to be everything represented by that sculpture -- a gallant figure revered for his gifts. But he never has figured out how, never has been able to stay on a path that would allow his talents -- not his antics -- to define him.
Now, with an opportunity that seems heaven-sent, he has another shot at crafting his legacy, linked as he will be this season to the quarterback of his desires on a team he courted, in a city desperate for a Super Bowl victory, with fans convinced that his presence will end the agony of three straight losses in the NFC championship game. Philly fanatics don't care about Sharpies and dances on the midfield star at Texas Stadium and angry sideline venting and all the rest. He hasn't caught a pass as an Eagle, but he already is a town hero. He always has wanted to be the next Jerry Rice, but things got messed up along the way. Now it's time to get it all sorted out.
Owens knows what should happen: This season, the Eagles finally advance to the Super Bowl. "They got to the NFC (championship) game without me, and now they have me, so why not?"
But first, he has to get by the matter of tights. "I don't understand," says Owens, 30. He's sitting in his massive family room. All around him are his play toys -- the swimming pool fed by a small waterfall, the weight room and indoor basketball court and game rooms and a sanctuary he calls his chocolate room (everything in it is chocolate colored), where he has his computer and plasma television. Access to the play room is by code only, so no one can invade his privacy without his permission. What he doesn't understand on this day is coach Andy Reid's rule against players wearing tights to practice unless they are covered by shorts.
"My biggest adjustment isn't the new team or the plays, but wearing shorts over my tights," he says. "What does that have to do with how I practice?" Since early in his NFL career, he has worn tights; that's what Rice did. But Reid wants his players in black shorts. After the first practice at his first Eagles minicamp, an assistant coach had to tell Owens to put on shorts. He spent the next days walking by Reid, telling him, "These shorts suck." Reid could only laugh.
But Owens is serious. "If I just have my tights on, I feel smooth, fluid, Spider-Man-like. I have given up a lot; for me to wear tights wouldn't be much. At least give me a little leash. I understand having structure, and I guess that is him making a statement. I don't have any problem with that, but it's a big adjustment."
At last week's second minicamp, it was something else. He fretted that not enough passes were thrown his way during a 7-on-7 drill. You can see eyes rolling in San Francisco. For sure, this is T.O. being T.O.; there is part of him that always believes he should have freedom to be a little individualistic within a team sport, new uniform or not. It is why 49ers running back Kevan Barlow once described his friend as "very different." It is why the market would have been limited for Owens had he become a free agent in March. It is why 49ers management finally gave up on its best offensive player. It is why he feels frustrated and misunderstood, why he generates so much discontent and anger from so many fans who view him as symbolic of a generation of self-centered, me-first athletes.
Yet it also is why his Eagles No. 81 jersey already is the league's No. 1 seller, surpassing Michael Vick's No. 7. This is Owens' supporters voting with their wallets; they love him as an entertainer having fun, willing to stake out his space, tweaking the unbending stuffiness of his profession. Derrick Deese, a former 49ers tackle now with the Bucs, is convinced Owens will be fine in Philadelphia. "He doesn't like to be considered a bad guy, and he knows what this means to him," Deese says.
Everyone should rest easy. For this season, at least, Owens will perform at a level surpassing his best years with the 49ers, making a strong case he's the NFL's premier receiver. He'll also drop some passes, he'll be booed by the locals, and he won't like it. But he'll deal with it. He'll give Reid a chance to be the male presence in his life that he has long lacked and badly needed. Even when he tests the limits of Reid's authority -- and he will -- the problems will not erode the fabric of the locker room, as they did with the 49ers. And his love affair with Donovan McNabb will be strong enough so that when the passes aren't as precise as he wants, or he doesn't get the ball as much as he hopes, he'll give McNabb leeway he never afforded Jeff Garcia.
"Dude, this is what I wanted, so there are no excuses," he says. "It is so refreshing knowing you are getting a new start. I'd say a clean slate, but it's not really. People still will dig up what I did in San Francisco. Is he going to blow up? Is he going to get along with his teammates, with his quarterback? I guess if we don't (get to a Super Bowl), I am a failure. ... I wasn't the savior. I am already expecting all of that. It comes with the territory.
"But now I can play free. I can play totally wide open. I envision myself doing things that Jerry did. I know the ability I have. They can say anything they want to say about me, but not about my game. I have shocked myself by some of the things I do as a player."
He says he has learned. "I've learned that everyone is not going to like everything you do. After the Sharpie incident, I had people tell me they enjoyed it, lots more than those who didn't. Looking at the Dallas thing, maybe it was a little excessive, but at the time you don't think about that. I was just out there having fun. But I don't regret it. I know now whatever I do comes with a microscope. I will handle things better because you get wiser as you get older. You learn from your mistakes." But part of him always thinks: I never have been arrested, never done drugs, never done anything bad. Just said some things and entertained a bit and really, what is wrong with that?
Near the end of the last practice of the first minicamp, Reid scripts a red zone segment. McNabb and Owens dominate, men playing against boys. Owens simply is too strong, too fast, too good. It is a long way until September, but the Eagles under Reid never have seen anything like Owens -- a receiver who can successfully finish off scoring chances. "He has the size over the middle, the ability to break tackles," says Ravens general manager Ozzie Newsome. "He's a deep threat and a possession guy. All that makes him very scary."
"Donovan and I can be dangerous together; there is no limit to what we can accomplish," says Owens, who should be comfortable in the Eagles' West Coast offense after playing in a similar scheme with the 49ers. "If I'm open behind everyone, at least the ball won't be thrown short." That's because McNabb has the strong arm Garcia lacked. Over the past five years, Owens has had the most yards after catch among the league's wide receivers, a consistent weakness with Eagles receivers. But now, working with McNabb, Owens will be able to expand his downfield effectiveness, a part of his game we haven't seen before. McNabb is good for Owens in other ways. He is on a constant high, a jokester who will help mitigate T.O.'s mood swings and head off Owens when he starts down a controversial trail. It is interesting seeing them together, the clowning McNabb trying to loosen up the super-serious, brooding Owens, who admits he needs to laugh more. They already were friends from playing together in Pro Bowls. Owens and Garcia never were buddies. Owens admired Garcia's toughness but not his game, and the quarterback's personality wasn't forceful enough to confront Owens. But Owens gushes over McNabb's skills and respects him as a man. He sees the two as equals, and that is huge in determining how they will co-exist.
Owens once sat in a steam room with Garcia and told him, "This is your team. They pay you a lot of money to be the quarterback. Sometimes you just have to take control." It's hard imagining him ever having that conversation with McNabb. Yet Owens' presence strips away the one element that has protected McNabb from the nasty fallout generated by the playoff failures. Now that the Eagles no longer lack the playmaking receiver needed to flourish within the postseason crucible, McNabb must step up the quality of his performance, improving both his accuracy and consistency to most effectively use Owens.
But this is what they wanted. Last February, both players showed up at the Pro Bowl in Hawaii, even though they were injured. Like two giggly boys sharing a deep secret, they followed Reid, coach of the NFC team, wherever he went. Walking to the beach, going to a restaurant, strolling to his room, they'd be there, laughing, connected at the hip. "Do we have No. 81 available?" McNabb would ask. "We'd look good together in that green and silver," they'd say.
Owens felt like a first-round pick -- Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis also was courting him -- but Reid understood something else. McNabb, who reads his coach better than any Eagle, was telling him, "This guy is OK; he can fit in." That's what Reid needed to know. This is a team carefully designed to feed off McNabb. Reid would not add anyone who would threaten this dynamic. McNabb's blessing was enough to convince the usually stoic, stern Reid to step away from his image and make room for Owens, a seemingly desperate move for a coach who had shied away from signing high-priced free agents and players with as much baggage as Owens.
There's something else about Reid: He doesn't mind his guys talking smack; he thinks it makes them more competitive, and he encourages them to do it in practice. "And I hope," he says, eyes twinkling, "that I see T.O. do a lot of touchdown celebrations."
Until now, the Eagles have used a receiver-by-committee approach, relying on the draft for upgrades but never finding a difference-maker who could scare defenses -- a weakness particularly glaring in the playoffs. Yet even though the Eagles scored only three points in their loss to Carolina in the NFC title game, Reid stubbornly maintains he wasn't convinced a receiver change was needed.
"Absolutely not," he says. "I was going to get a pass rusher, and we did (former Titans defensive end Jevon Kearse). We could win with our receivers, but this was a unique opportunity. A great player who knows our system doesn't come available very often. But desperate? No."
ESPN analyst Randy Mueller, the ex-Saints general manager, disagrees. "If the need hadn't been so desperate, they wouldn't have gone this route," he says. "T.O. comes with some risks that Andy hasn't needed to take in the past -- the way it could affect chemistry, the bit of negative drain that after a while becomes hard for people to take. I don't think Owens means it -- he is competitive and wants to win -- but the constant chatter and complaining can wear. But having said that, there is not a better fit for him than in Philly. He gives them exactly what they need: a go-to guy on third down, someone who can catch even when covered. But it puts pressure on McNabb. Now if he is what everyone says he is, let's see how he performs."
Friends within the league told Reid to pass on Owens rather than risk disrupting his locker room. But Marty Mornhinweg, once the 49ers' offensive coordinator and now the Eagles' assistant head coach, pushed strongly to acquire him. And former 49ers defensive coordinator Jim Mora, now Atlanta's coach, called Reid to endorse Owens. "The fact that T.O. actively pursued Philly spells trouble for the rest of the league," says Mora. "He wants to be there, and he will buy in. How long the honeymoon will last, I'm not sure, but it will last for sure this year. When he gets his mind set to accomplish something, he is almost unstoppable." Mora told Reid to communicate constantly with Owens. "If you do that, you can earn his trust for life."
But Owens trusts few people. He was raised by his grandmother, a strict woman who protected him from the world by confining him to his own yard. He didn't have many friends as a child and prefers being alone -- he admits to spending hours doing nothing and liking it -- and still, even now, allows only a handful into his inner sanctum, into the chocolate room. There is no middle ground in his world, just the extremes of like and dislike, and once he feels someone crosses him, there is no forgiveness. Like his grandmother, he is not shy about voicing opinions.
Former 49ers coach Steve Mariucci once labeled some of Owens' opinions as "devoid of thought." The two hardly spoke for one season. Reid knows all about what happened in San Francisco; he doesn't expect any repeat performances. "He might not always agree with how I operate, but he'll be fine," Reid says. "Certain things set me off." So don't expect Owens to chew out assistants on the sideline as he did last year with then-49ers coordinator Greg Knapp. Reid certainly is less tolerant and more confrontational than Mariucci. Reid and Owens already have discussed rules and expected behavior; there isn't much wiggle room.
"He said there would be ways of doing things, and I understood that," says Owens. The Eagles also have asked him to reduce his rhetoric about the 49ers. But that request clashes with the anger he still feels. "My frustrations at times came because I know what I could have done to help us win some games that we lost. My production could have been better if I had a quarterback who let it all hang out. But he worried about completion percentages, being safe. If you look at my touchdowns, I had to work for them. It wasn't like I caught a lot of bombs. People say I am selfish. They don't understand. They should look at the tape. I had mismatches that no one took advantage of. I was open long, but the ball wasn't thrown right. I just didn't feel like a lot of guys were committed the last few years to winning a championship, and that is all I am about. I want a ring."
The past few years, Owens feuded with Mariucci, Garcia, the NFL and eventually with management. Ironically, near the end, he became more friendly in the locker room, reaching out to more players socially. "Guys who didn't like what he said had to look at themselves, not him," says Deese. "You are dealing with a guy who is unique, different. He is not going to give political answers."
Consider what Owens has to say about 49ers G.M. Terry Donahue, the focus of most of his lingering bitterness: "He is a joke. Untrustworthy. The 49ers are becoming like the old Bengals." Owens' ire stems from the offseason mess involving his contract. When his agent missed a deadline that would make him a free agent, keeping his rights with the 49ers, Owens was furious that the team wouldn't release him. What happened next unfolded like a soap opera: The 49ers dealt him to the Ravens, even though he said his agent was on the verge of a deal with the Eagles that the 49ers never approved; Owens said he wouldn't play in Baltimore; after an arbitration hearing, a compromise was reached that sent Owens to the Eagles, end Brandon Whiting from the Eagles to the 49ers and a fifth-round draft pick from the Eagles to the Ravens. Owens felt vindicated.
Both Garcia and Donahue want to move on. Since signing with the Browns, Garcia has declined to discuss Owens. "We wish him well," Donahue says of Owens. "He was a great player for us on Sundays." Owens says at some point he will stop talking about the 49ers. Just not now.
That doesn't matter to McNabb. He's just pleased Owens is a teammate. "I was happy Andy made an effort to get him," he says. "It said a lot to the question, 'Would he bring anyone in here (to get better)?' Terrell already has come in here showing his work ethic, and guys who are waiting to see what he will do are impressed, and their attitude changes. This is all about getting past the NFC championship, and obviously we feel that we have filled the missing parts of the puzzle. Now it's about building chemistry. With him, I want to take full advantage of the opportunity. We have a chance to make history, to open up eyes."
For parts of the past two years, Owens has played with his groin muscles so sore they required pain-killing shots for him to play. He has worked religiously this offseason with a trainer in Los Angeles whose specialized program is designed to end his problems. Now, he says he feels great. He is one of the NFL's best-conditioned athletes and one of the most physically impressive. Yet last year he dropped too many passes and failed too often to be a difference-maker. Reid told him to start catching lots of balls in practice, just as he did when he was much younger.
"I admit it; I didn't play like I can last year," Owens says. But that was then. Now he has McNabb. He has hope. He has love. All that is left is for him to play like a receiver from the gods. All of Philly is praying he will.
Senior writer Paul Attner covers the NFL for Sporting News. Email him at attner@sportingnews.com.