He thought he’d addressed all questions pertaining to Terrell Owens back in February, when he was quizzed about the vainglorious receiver’s availability for Super Bowl XXXIX and how prepared the Patriots would be in the event he would play.

But now Rodney Harrison was confronted with with another inquiry regarding T.O., even though he’s hundreds of miles from Pennsylvania and the Philadelphia Eagles are nowhere to be found on the Patriots’ 2005 schedule.

“What’s your take on the T.O. situation?”

Harrison wisely deflected the question. Sticking your nose in another team’s business serves no purpose for an NFL player. It’s even less when that player calls Bill Belichick his coach.

“I have no take on it. None at all,” Harrison said. “It’s a dead issue to me. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with it. I’m glad we don’t have to deal with it. It’s a circus.”

Actually, the fact that the Patriots don’t have to deal with the Terrell Owens-Drew Rosenhaus-Donovan McNabb three-ring circus has entered the conversation a few times over the last week. New England is the model NFL franchise, and the question all over the television, radio, newspapers and the Internet is WWBBD — what would Bill Belichick do?

The concept has been a difficult one for the media to grasp. More than one pundit has tried to juxtapose last year’s acquisition of Corey Dillon with Owens’ own migration to the Eagles.

On the surface, it seems like a fair comparison. Both were disgruntled superstars with the prime of their career slipping away who agitated to get out of a losing organization Both vocalized their dissatisfaction frequently and did not equivocate, and both appeared to be changed men when they finally got their way and got out.

But here’s where the comparison becomes moot. Corey Dillon and Terrell Owens are not the same person. And the Philadelphia Eagles, as much as some wish to put them on an equal footing with the three-time Super Bowl champions, are not the New England Patriots.

Owens craves the spotlight. Make no mistake. Impressive as his comeback from a broken ankle in the Super Bowl was, it was all about building the image of T.O. Helping the Eagles win was little more than a prop. Reading his comments following the game, it was clear that he wanted to win because it would have made him a legend. He would have been right up there with Willis Reed and Curt Schilling. Losing the game hurt him in his wallet, not his gut, or his heart, or his soul. It’s why he was so quick to throw Donovan McNabb under the bus.

Dillon, on the other hand, is quiet, shy and deferential to his teammates around the media. One would expect a guy with his story of redemption would have made the rounds on all the talk shows and magazine covers over the spring and summer. Instead, we’ve barely heard a peep out of him.

The popular belief is that Belichick somehow got Dillon to change, like he pulled out his pocket watch and hypnotized the running back into becoming a different man than he was in Cincinnati.

But Dillon didn’t have to change. The Patriots didn’t ask him to change.

The Eagles did expect T.O. to change. They expected him to set his ego aside and let McNabb be the face and voice of the team. They’re still trying to make him do it. The unwritten message in the letter they sent Owens Monday essentially tells Owens that he’ll either shut up and play, or he won’t play.

The Patriots don’t need to put or imply those sentiments in print. It’s understood the moment someone walks into the locker room.

“We’ve got so many veteran players who will weed a guy like that out in a hurry,” Harrison said. “You can’t be a me’ guy and expect to be on this team and have success. I don’t think that would fly here at all. Not at all.”

The Patriots knew what they were getting with Dillon. It’s hard to believe the Eagles didn’t completely understand what they were getting with Owens, although, to be fair, Rosenhaus wasn’t originally part of the package.

It’s also hard to believe the Eagles expected T.O. to stop being T.O. when he got there. The Patriots wouldn’t do that. They’d fold the tent long before the circus came to town.