Howie Roseman Roseman’s Strong Advice to Counter Draft Pranks as Donald Trump Echoes Eagles Stance on Tush Push

Imagine getting punk’d on the biggest night of your life—welcome to the 2025 NFL Draft, setting the stage for a saga that felt more like a ‘Saturday Night Live’ sketch than a cornerstone of professional sports. The draft’s chaos—prank calls hijacking prospects’ dreams—left teams scrambling. Enter Philadelphia Eagles GM Howie Roseman, the league’s resident MacGyver, armed with a solution as slick as Jalen Hurts’ QB sneak:

“Maybe there’s a general number for each team where they call from a cell phone, and that’s the number that’s only for the draft, and you have to FaceTime the player.” Translation? GM burner phones. Roseman, ever the strategist, riffed like a jazz musician: “I’m thinking out loud, Rich. I’m trying to find solutions because it makes sense.”

The prank epidemic peaked when Shedeur Sanders, live-streaming his draft night, fell for a faux-Saints call that crushed his spirits before the Browns snagged him in the fifth round. The Falcons’ DC Jeff Ulbrich‘s kid, Jax Ulbrich, pulled the stunt using intel from his dad’s iPad. Roseman demanded, “Well, there are a lot of smart people in the league. I certainly don’t know that I’m the one who should be speaking on it, but I think there’s probably ways that we can do it where maybe the players get the GMs’ numbers.”

The NFL slapped Atlanta with fines, but Roseman’s fix? “FaceTime the player. You want to hear the voice.” It’s classic Eagles: pragmatic, no-BS, and slightly chaotic—like tailgating in a Nor’easter. Roseman’s FaceTime fix wasn’t just about stopping pranks—it was safeguarding moments as sacred as a fourth-quarter drive. Kyle McCord, the Eagles’ sixth-round steal, had endured fake GM calls too. “You don’t want to get in a situation where they’re not answering our calls,” Roseman mused, echoing the anxiety of every fan staring at a “NO SIGNAL” screen during a game-winning drive.

Roseman drama unfolds—one involving tushes, shoves, and the President

The Eagles’ infamous ‘Tush Push’ (or ‘Brotherly Shove,’ depending on your Wawa order) had become as polarizing as a Philly cheesesteak debate. Critics called it a “safety hazard”; fans dubbed it art. At the Eagles’ White House visit, Donald Trump—ever the showman—threw his weight behind the play: “I hope they keep that play, Coach,” he smirked, referencing the Super Bowl LIX win. “Exciting and different… they should keep it!” Cue eye-rolls from traditionalists and fireworks from Philly.

Roseman, grinning like a Cheshire cat, knew the play’s magic wasn’t just physics—it was culture.. “I was happy that when we went to the White House, the president saw it our way, for sure. But I know that they’ll have a lot of conversations with the owners when they meet in May“. The Tush Push epitomized Philly’s grit: underdog ingenuity meets unapologetic swagger. When Hurts bulldozed into the end zone with a convoy of O-linemen in Super Bowl LIX, it wasn’t just a touchdown—it was a laugh in the face of doubters, set to the soundtrack of ‘Fly, Eagles, Fly.’

The Eagles’ 2025 draft class—headlined by Jihaad Campbell and Andrew Mukuba—proved Roseman’s mastery of gridiron chess. With $14.7M in cap space and a monstrous dead cap ($64.6M), every pick mattered. Yet, like Jason Kelce belting ‘Dreams and Nightmares’ at the parade, Roseman turned constraints into confetti.

The NFL’s draft pranks met their match in Roseman’s tech savvy, while Trump’s Tush Push endorsement cemented the play’s legacy. In Philly, chaos isn’t a crisis—it’s a catalyst. And if you’re still mad about the push? “We’re just trying to… become a great team again,” Roseman shrugs.