The Philadelphia Eagles’ locker room has always thrived on brotherhood. Think Remember the Titans meets Any Given Sunday. Grilled cheese debates at training camp, inside jokes about the ’18 Super Bowl parade, and a shared disdain for Dallas. But this week, the vibe feels more tense, divided, and waiting for someone to yell, ‘You can’t handle the truth!’

It started with a golf club. Not the kind that wins championships, but the kind that sparks them. Imagine Brett Favre’s Wrangler ads colliding with Tiger Woods’s 2005 Masters comeback. But the only green involved features a presidential seal. The Eagles, fresh off hoisting the Lombardi, now face a deep split. And at the center? Saquon Barkley, the star RB who just teed off in a political sandtrap.

On April 27, Barkley golfed with former President Donald Trump at Bedminster, then hitched a ride on Air Force One to D.C. for the Eagles’ White House visit. The move drew swift backlash. Notably from Eagles legend Malcolm Jenkins, who says, “Attending the White House visit early and spending the day golfing with the President. It was disappointing, to say the very least.” (per MLF Football) But the RB’s casual Trump camaraderie struck a nerve in Philly.

After all, it’s the same team where Jenkins once raised a fist during the anthem, and Trump canceled the team’s 2018 visit over anthem protests. Owner Jeffrey Lurie had called this year’s visit “a time-honored tradition,” but QB Jalen Hurts’s silence at the TIME100 Gala—“Um…”—hinted at simmering fractures. For a franchise that skipped Trump’s 2018 invite over social justice stands, Barkley’s Trump embrace feels like a fumble. Besides, the Eagles’ last White House snub wasn’t just about politics.

It was the principle. In 2018, Trump accused players of disrespecting the anthem, though Jenkins insisted it was about systemic change. “I’d rather spend my time working with whoever on these issues that we’ve been fighting for. That’s just my personal decision,” he said. This time, Lurie framed the visit as “an obvious choice,” but optional attendance split the roster. And there you have Barkley, whose Trump outing revived old tensions.

Jenkins’ critique wasn’t just about a golf game—it was a reminder of the Eagles’ activist DNA. When Trump praised Barkley’s “tush push” endorsement at the ceremony, it underscored the irony: A team once united against presidential criticism now cheers a play Trump loves.

Barkley’s defense: Respect the office

Saquon Barkley fired back on X, “Maybe I just respect the office, not a hard concept to understand… Now ya get out of my mentions with all this politics.” Barkley mentioned he’d golfed with Obama recently, framing it as bipartisan respect. His stance is simple.

Honor the presidency, not the person. “Just golfed with Obama not too long ago…and look forward to finishing my round with Trump!” he posted. But in Philly, where Jenkins and Chris Long once linked arms during the anthem, the RB’s détente feels like a flag on the play. Trump, meanwhile, leaned into the drama.

“I wanted to race him, but I decided not to do it,” the president said. The jab—a nod to Barkley’s speed—couldn’t outrun the RB’s social media critics. Even Ivanka Trump’s son, Theo, stealing a Rose Garden race with Barkley, couldn’t cute-ify the divide. Besides, the Eagles’ White House visit should’ve been a victory lap. Instead, it became a Rorschach test.

Is Barkley a bipartisan bridge or a locker room liability? For a team that turned “Philly Special” into a verb, this chapter feels more like a Hail Mary, thrown blindly into the winds of division. MLK once said, “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.” In Philly, the question isn’t about touchdowns or trophies—it’s whether a team built on unity can survive a world where even golf games have end zones.