Blockbuster Showdown: Brian Kelly Returns to South Bend as LSU Faces Notre Dame in Hypothetical College Football Playoff Clash

Imagine the snow falling lightly over Notre Dame Stadium in December. The golden dome shimmers under the winter sky. The student section is already roaring, their breath visible in the cold air. And then it happens—the tunnel opens, and Brian Kelly walks out, not in blue and gold, but in LSU purple and gold. If college football is a sport built on passion, rivalries, and pageantry, then this hypothetical playoff matchup—LSU at Notre Dame with a national title berth on the line—would be nothing short of cinematic glory.

There are moments in sports that write themselves into lore. This would be one of them. Brian Kelly, the winningest coach in Notre Dame history, returns to the same sideline he once commanded, now as the opposing general. The stadium he once electrified, the fanbase he once led to the doorstep of greatness, now views him as the enemy. And on the biggest possible stage—a College Football Playoff game with everything on the line.

This wouldn’t just be a game. It would be a national event.

Let’s start with the storylines. Kelly’s departure from Notre Dame in December 2021 stunned the college football world. The move came swiftly, and many Irish fans felt blindsided. After 12 seasons in South Bend, where he compiled 113 wins and made multiple CFP and BCS appearances, Kelly abruptly bolted for Baton Rouge in search of a national title and access to SEC talent.

The move had its logic, but it lacked grace. That wound has never truly healed for the Notre Dame faithful. While Marcus Freeman took the reins and built a promising future in South Bend, Kelly’s name remains polarizing. Some admire his success. Others resent his exit. But all would be united in anticipation if the Tigers were to roll into town for a do-or-die playoff showdown.

On the other sideline, LSU has found new life under Kelly. He brought the Tigers to the SEC Championship Game in just his first season and turned Jayden Daniels into a Heisman Trophy winner in 2023. He has reshaped the roster and reenergized a program that always has national title aspirations. An LSU team capable of surviving the SEC gauntlet and making the playoff? That’s exactly what Kelly promised—and if it happens in 2025, then it’s not hard to imagine them matched up against a loaded, experienced Notre Dame squad at home.

Because Notre Dame, in this hypothetical, earned the higher seed. Perhaps they went undefeated, finally breaking through against Ohio State, USC, and Clemson. Maybe their defense was suffocating, their quarterback poised, their running game unstoppable. In Phil Steele’s 2025 Power Poll, the Irish are expected to be “very, very good,” and in this scenario, they have earned the right to host a playoff game in South Bend. The ghosts of Rockne, Parseghian, Holtz, and Montana are surely smiling.

The drama writes itself. The stadium would be packed with students, alumni, and fans who have waited decades for this moment. Notre Dame has never hosted a College Football Playoff game. The atmosphere would be absolutely electric. And in the middle of it all, Brian Kelly walks back into town. Not for a reunion. Not for a ring ceremony. But for battle.

Think of the signs in the crowd. The ESPN coverage. The talking heads debating all week: Did Kelly make the right move? Does Notre Dame finally have the team to win it all without him? What happens if the Irish knock him out of the title race? And what if he knocks them out?

The emotions would be raw. The stakes? Monumental.

And let’s not ignore the football. Both teams would be loaded. LSU’s offense under Kelly has evolved into one of the most dangerous units in the country. Whether it’s five-star talent at quarterback or a bevy of SEC speed at receiver, the Tigers would bring firepower. But Notre Dame’s defense, likely built around a nasty front seven and elite cornerbacks, would be up to the task. It would be a war of attrition—a classic clash of styles, of philosophies, and of identities.

Freeman versus Kelly would be its own sub-plot. When Kelly left, Freeman—a beloved defensive coordinator—was elevated to head coach in large part because the players wanted him. His emotional introduction won the locker room, and since then, he has grown into the role. A win over Kelly in the playoff would be more than symbolic—it would be cathartic. It would feel like passing a final test, slaying the ghost that lingered over his tenure.

Meanwhile, Kelly’s motivation would be undeniable. He would want to prove that he made the right decision, that he could win in the SEC and still conquer his former kingdom. It would be the ultimate opportunity for validation—a playoff win at the expense of the school he once led.

The crowd reaction? Thunderous boos, likely. But perhaps some polite applause mixed in during pregame. That is, until the whistle blows. Then it’s war. The Irish want revenge. They want respect. They want a national title—and nothing would be sweeter than stepping over Brian Kelly to get there.

From a television standpoint, this game would shatter ratings. CBS, FOX, or ESPN would build a week-long special around it. The history. The drama. The characters. Imagine a 30-minute sit-down between Freeman and Kelly—or a College Gameday broadcast live from Notre Dame’s campus with a panel debating legacy and betrayal.

Would Kelly downplay the emotions? Probably. Would Freeman lean into them? Quietly, perhaps, through the lens of redemption. But the fanbases wouldn’t be so reserved. For LSU, it’s a chance to validate their coach’s vision. For Notre Dame, it’s a reckoning.

And don’t underestimate the cultural clash. South Bend’s historic, tradition-rich campus with its statues and chapels versus Baton Rouge’s swagger and Saturday night bayou intensity. This game would symbolize two halves of the sport colliding—Midwest toughness versus SEC bravado.

And imagine the ending. What if it came down to one play? A goal-line stand by the Irish defense. A 50-yard field goal by LSU. A controversial call that becomes part of playoff lore. Any of those moments could etch this game into college football’s history forever.

The victor advances to the national championship. The loser heads home, heartbroken. But for Notre Dame, winning wouldn’t just be about a trophy. It would be about closure. Beating Kelly would mean putting the past to bed and embracing a new era—one led by Marcus Freeman.

And for Kelly, winning would be complicated. Joy, surely, but maybe not satisfaction. Because returning to the place you once called home—and leaving it in despair—always carries a weight.

In a sport fueled by emotion, storytelling, and spectacle, this hypothetical playoff matchup would have everything: legacy, tension, rivalry, redemption, and the ultimate prize waiting on the other side. It would be a night for legends. A game for the ages.

And if it ever happens—LSU at Notre Dame, with Brian Kelly returning to South Bend for a playoff game—the sport might never see another chapter quite like it. It would be College Football Cinema in its purest form.