Eagles Training Camp Meets the DNC: Practice, Protestors and Pokemon

PHILADELPHIA — Traffic slowed to a crawl around mid-span of the Walt Whitman Bridge, like it does about two hours before kickoff of an Eagles playoff game. But this was 7:45 on a Monday morning. 

The jam persisted through the tolls and past the I-95 interchange. Trucks are banned from I-95, the corridor from everywhere to everywhere, for the entire week. All traffic around the Philadelphia sports complex is also banned or tightly controlled. So tractor-trailers and the NFL media were all shunted onto little Penrose Avenue.

After a half-hour of car-length-at-a-time progress, I finally turned onto Pattison Avenue a half mile west of Eagles headquarters. I soon reached a roadblock: concrete barricades, two police cruisers and the ultimate urban deterrent vehicle: a parked Philly trash truck.

Some ID checks later, I drove the final few blocks toward Eagles camp with a peloton of bicycle cops pedaling straight for me. I ducked into a parking lot as they coasted to a stop outside Eagles HQ. I hustled past them on foot, waving my media credential with a kind of manic paranoia.

The Democratic National Convention is in Philadelphia, and the first speaker is…Doug Pederson?

Chris Szagola/Associated Press

"The first day's always exciting," the Eagles' new head coach said. "I'm almost like a little kid. I just love being around the guys, being out on the grass and playing some ball."

Not exactly a rousing speech. But then, Lou Holtz was unavailable.

To clear up the confusion: The Democratic National Convention is at the Wells Fargo Center, home of Philly's most beloved hockey team (the Flyers) and basketball team (the Villanova Wildcats). I am at Eagles training camp, precisely 0.6 miles away, a five-minute drive or 14-minute walk if you could actually drive or walk anywhere around South Philly this week without going through customs multiple times.

Major political decisions are being made 3,200 feet away, and I am listening to Sam Bradford's acceptance speech as the Eagles starting quarterback. My priorities are either hopelessly skewed or perfectly balanced.

The Eagles media relations department warned us about the barricades. I picked up my credential a week early, GPS'ed alternate routes through South Philly that would make Rocky collapse in exhaustion and equipped myself with my driver's license, passport, birth certificate and autographed posters of Brian Dawkins, Joe Biden and—in case I had to stop in a local bar for directions—Louis Prima.

But security isn't quite as tight as law enforcement thinks. Eagles camp is swarming with Pokemon.

Mike Tanier

Yes, I downloaded Pokemon Go as a combination parental bonding/Internet comedy/stress-relief exercise. Eagles headquarters happens to be a Pokemon gym, which makes a kind of sense. During a quiet moment of on-field stretching, I even caught a Pidgey on the sideline. I caught a Pidgey on the sideline at Eagles camp last year, but Tim Tebow threw it, so it wasn't the same thing.

So, we should probably lean toward "my priorities are hopelessly skewed." But if the Internet tells me anything, it's that I should #StickToFootball when it comes to politics.

Unlike the major political parties, the Eagles are not faced with a split ticket. Carson Wentz dropped out of the primaries in the spring. The junior delegate from North Dakota has a promising future, but from what I saw in minicamp, he isn't nearly ready for the national stage. (He was a little sharper Monday.)

"I've said all along Sam's the guy, Pederson said. "Sam's the guy. Sam's the guy. And I'll stick to that."

That's the kind of endorsement major presidential nominees want but have a hard time getting these days. Maybe Pederson should speak at a convention.

We're "the media," so we poked and squeezed Pederson and Bradford for signs of a juicy fissure. But they presented a united front. Wentz is apparently on message as well, though he had little to say Monday. Bradford said that he and Wentz went paddleboarding together during a team-building exercise in San Diego.

Maybe Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders should go paddleboarding together. Right after Donald Trump and Ted Cruz finish their zip line adventure.

The first day of training camp is typically all about the softest of soft news: Everybody's excited to be back, every team is undefeated, I love being around the guys, that sort of thing. Once through the blockades, Eagles camp was like that on Monday: few veterans, no contact, no drama. Temperatures in the upper 90s and general first-day rust kept the pace to a crawl; either that or Pederson was installing the old Chiefs two-minute drill (rimshot) he ran against the Pats in the playoffs. The most exciting thing on the field, other than the general return of football itself, was rookie cornerback Jalen Mills' bright green hair.

Chris Szagola/Associated Press

Someone asked Mills if teammates have commented on his hair. "Green Goblin, The Joker," he said, rattling off nicknames. "I've heard Lime Green Skittle, Starburst, I've been getting an earful."

What, no Bulbasaur or Turtwig? Heck, there's a Bulbasaur hopping up and down behind the interview tent right now. Hold on…

Political conventions used to be all about soft news and scripted sound bites, too, up until about last week. Convention season and the start of NFL training camp used to be all sunshine, promise and optimism; the hard hits and tough losses would come in the fall. Now, conventions feel like the two-a-day practices of yesteryear, with teams beating themselves up until they are too weary to face an opponent. The "sunshine" of the early preseason has become more of an oppressive, exhausting haze.

Coaches love to repeat "trust the process" this time of year. But trust in the process is at an all-time low in the NFL. The process appears irrevocably broken and out of control.

The league insists on setting forth from its Park Avenue Tower of Joy to question Clay Matthews, Julius Peppers and James Harrison about PED allegations in a media report. The league graciously cleared Peyton Manning of the same charges, not letting the fact that he is no longer under its jurisdiction get in the way of a good ruling, but hasn't extended its largesse to players directly under its control.

Meanwhile, Tom Brady is not even allowed to play catch with teammates while serving his sentence for the sports equivalent of a late-paid parking ticket.

Josh Gordon's exile in bureaucratic limbo ended before press time with a four-game suspension for a crime most fans (and an increasing number of municipalities) don't care about. Eugene Monroe just retired, frightened by the concussion issue and frustrated by the NFL's get off my lawn you filthy hippie harrumphing about his advocacy of medical marijuana as a potential treatment.

But my job is not to wade into political waters, it is to #StickToFootball. Quick, Sam Bradford, say something bland and reassuring!

"

We've got six weeks of training camp. It's long. It's tough. But I think this is really where the team is built. This is where we come together as a team. The good teams are the ones that don't let the days become monotonous…I think that if we can use this time to our advantage and focus each day on getting better, I think by the time [the season opener in] Cleveland comes around, we'll be in a really good place.

"

Ahhh. That's the stuff.

With the NFL, the political arena and nearly everything else in turmoil, there's something soothing about the routine of training camp. Players stretch, run through cones, play a little 7-on-7. It's dull and repetitive but also mesmerizing, like standing in a sauna watching a lava lamp.

We are sailing into uncharted NFL territory: a season without Peyton Manning and (until October) Tom Brady; without Calvin Johnson, Charles Tillman, Greg Jennings, D'Brickashaw Ferguson and Darnell Dockett; without an increasing number of young retirees like Monroe, without Le'Veon Bell possibly for a month (another "procedural" suspension) and possibly even without J.J. Watt for a while.

Many of the biggest stars, greatest leaders and most thoughtful young activists are either gone or in temporary limbo. But we've made enough metaphors for one column. We cannot bury our faces in our smartphones or lose ourselves in fantasy worlds. The NFL somehow thrives amid chaos and controversy. Maybe America can, too.

Leaving Eagles headquarters, bathed in my own sweat and a little sunburned, I spotted a pair of protesters walking past the complex on the way to the DNC. They looked like the kind of guys who would usually wear Eagles jerseys and carry anti-Cowboys signs along Pattison Avenue. This week, they are wearing Bernie Sanders T-shirts and holding anti-Clinton signs.

I stopped to snap their picture. I don't agree with all the political opinions I see and hear these days, but I try to catch 'em all.

It's getting harder and harder to #StickToFootball. But there's something to be said about the grind. This summer of political strife may be long and tough, but if we use this time to our advantage and focus on getting better, perhaps when autumn comes around, we all really will be in a good place.

Mike Tanier covers the NFL for Bleacher Report. Follow him on Twitter @MikeTanier.