“Lincoln Riley Doubles Down on USC-Notre Dame Rivalry: ‘We Should Play This Forever’ Despite Playoff Era Challenges”

There are few matchups in college football that carry the weight, emotion, and prestige of the USC-Notre Dame rivalry. It’s more than just a game. It’s a tradition etched into the soul of the sport—a clash that transcends geography, culture, and even conference lines. As college football undergoes massive structural shifts, largely due to the expanded College Football Playoff (CFP) and ongoing realignment chaos, many long-standing rivalries have either diminished in importance or disappeared altogether. But if Lincoln Riley has anything to say about it, the annual battle between the Trojans and Fighting Irish won’t be among them. “We should play this forever,” he declared firmly, cutting through the fog of uncertainty that now surrounds college football’s most sacred traditions.

Riley’s words didn’t come off as nostalgic lip service or PR fluff; they were a full-throated commitment to history. In an era when every program seems to be calculating the value of each game in terms of playoff implications, NIL opportunities, and television contracts, Riley’s insistence on preserving one of the sport’s most iconic showdowns is both refreshing and increasingly rare. He understands what it means. Not just for USC. Not just for Notre Dame. But for college football itself.

To fully grasp the gravity of Riley’s stance, it’s important to understand the current landscape. With the College Football Playoff expanding and conferences becoming increasingly insular, traditional rivalries—especially those that exist outside conference affiliations—are becoming logistically harder to sustain. USC’s move to the Big Ten has only added more scheduling complexity, making it tempting to shed one non-conference heavyweight bout to make room for mandatory conference play or strategically weaker opponents. But Lincoln Riley isn’t interested in convenience. He’s interested in legacy.

The USC-Notre Dame rivalry is one of the sport’s crown jewels. Since the first meeting in 1926, the game has featured everything from Heisman winners to national championship implications, from snowstorms in South Bend to sun-drenched battles in Los Angeles. The rivalry is unique, not just for its prestige, but for its permanence across eras and shifting power dynamics. Whether one team was up and the other down, or both programs were chasing greatness, the game always delivered on emotion and stakes. And perhaps most importantly, it always meant something—something deeply rooted in tradition and respect.

That’s what Riley is fighting to preserve. When he says, “We should play this forever,” he isn’t just staking a claim for continuity—he’s defending the very soul of college football. It’s a bold stance, especially for a head coach who hasn’t been in the rivalry nearly as long as some of his predecessors, but it shows a deep understanding of what this game symbolizes. Riley could easily have shrugged off the future of the series with vague platitudes about scheduling flexibility or strategic alignment. Instead, he put his foot down.

And it matters that it’s him doing it. Lincoln Riley isn’t just another coach trying to rebuild a blue-blood program. He’s one of the brightest offensive minds in the sport, a marquee figure who brought his considerable reputation from Oklahoma to revive a sleeping giant in Southern California. When Riley speaks, people listen—recruits, administrators, boosters, and fans. His voice carries weight in conversations that determine the future of college football, and his vocal support for continuing the Notre Dame rivalry could be the difference between preservation and erosion.

But why does this rivalry matter so much, especially now? The answer lies in its unmatched ability to bridge time, geography, and fanbases. Notre Dame and USC sit on opposite ends of the country, with vastly different cultural and institutional identities. Yet every year, they meet on the field and battle for something intangible: pride, legacy, bragging rights, and a claim to the past. It’s a game that connects generations of alumni, inspires national interest, and reinforces the notion that some things are bigger than the playoff race.

Rivalries like USC-Notre Dame offer something the playoff system can’t quantify: emotional stakes that aren’t tied to a trophy. Sure, both programs aspire to reach the CFP and win national championships. But for fans and players alike, beating the other school in this historic series carries its own reward. It’s not a stepping stone—it’s a destination. That’s the magic, and that’s what Riley is determined to preserve.

It would be easy to get swept up in the numbers and analytics of today’s game. Coaches are often pressured to schedule opponents that help boost playoff résumés or increase win probability. Athletic departments are constantly balancing budgets and weighing the value of big-ticket games against financial efficiency. Amid all that noise, Riley’s clarity is striking. He knows that dropping Notre Dame from the schedule would be a short-term gain but a long-term loss—one that cuts against the very fabric of USC football.

It’s also worth noting that Riley isn’t just advocating for the rivalry out of sentimentality. He sees it as a foundational piece of the program’s identity. In a sport that increasingly prizes brand over tradition, USC’s brand is its tradition. From the Victory Bell to the Rose Bowl, from Reggie Bush to Matt Leinart, from the Coliseum to Touchdown Jesus, USC football lives and breathes in its rivalries. To remove Notre Dame from that equation would be to amputate a piece of its soul.

Notre Dame, for its part, has also expressed a strong desire to keep the series alive, and rightly so. The rivalry is one of the few that lends Notre Dame’s independent schedule a level of national consistency and gravitas. In an ever-changing college football ecosystem, the Irish have long relied on marquee games like this one to maintain their relevance and recruiting pull. USC provides a reliable West Coast counterbalance to Notre Dame’s Midwestern and Atlantic opponents, giving the schedule a level of diversity and national reach that is hard to replicate.

This mutual respect and commitment between two of the sport’s powerhouses is rare and precious. It’s something that administrators and decision-makers must protect, even as they navigate the increasingly complicated calculus of college football logistics. Whether it’s moving the game to earlier in the season or adjusting travel schedules, solutions exist—if the will does. And thanks to Riley’s vocal advocacy, that will seems more tangible than ever.

For USC fans, Riley’s stance is also a rallying cry. It signals that the program isn’t just chasing the future—it’s honoring the past. That’s a powerful message in a moment when many fans feel alienated by the changes in the sport they love. NIL deals, transfer portals, expanded playoffs, and conference realignments have created a sense of instability. But traditions like the USC-Notre Dame game serve as anchors. They remind everyone why they fell in love with college football in the first place.

Riley’s words may not appear on any scoreboard, but they could end up being one of the most important statements of his tenure. In the end, games come and go. Coaches win and lose. Players graduate or move on to the NFL. But rivalries? Rivalries endure. They live on in family traditions, in decades of tailgates, in the nervous energy that grips campuses the week of the game. They echo through the generations, giving meaning to every touchdown, every tackle, and every moment.

It’s easy to forget that in the business-first mindset that now dominates college athletics. But Lincoln Riley hasn’t forgotten. He’s doubling down on something that can’t be bought or sold, scheduled around or gamed for advantage. He’s doubling down on tradition, on legacy, on the very essence of what makes college football special.

So while the playoff era may continue to reshape the landscape in dramatic ways, there’s at least one constant fans can cling to. As long as Riley is at the helm in Los Angeles, USC will be showing up to play Notre Dame—with fire in its eyes, history on its back, and a full understanding of what that game means. And that, more than any playoff berth or trophy, is a victory for the sport itself.