Sankey Says SEC Will Not Commit to Preserving Alabama-Tennessee, Auburn-Georgia, and Other Historic College Football Rivalries Amid Realignment

As the landscape of college football continues to shift, the Southeastern Conference (SEC) is standing at a historic crossroads. Amid sweeping changes fueled by expansion, media rights deals, and evolving scheduling models, Commissioner Greg Sankey has clarified the league’s stance on a sensitive and emotional topic for many fans: traditional rivalries.

In a revealing and impactful statement, Sankey recently said the SEC is “not committing” to protecting storied matchups such as Alabama-Tennessee and Auburn-Georgia, igniting concern and debate across the college football world. For fans of the Auburn Tigers, this admission lands like a thunderclap, calling into question the future of the Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry—a fixture that has defined generations of Southeastern football passion.

The Auburn-Georgia rivalry, which dates back to 1892, is not just another annual football game. It is a foundational piece of the SEC’s identity, representing not just regional competition but family ties, cultural history, and the traditions that define the fall in the South. This contest, which has been played 127 times, is often seen as a spiritual companion to the Iron Bowl, and its importance in Auburn’s cultural identity cannot be overstated.

To hear that its continuation is no longer guaranteed sends shockwaves not only through the Plains but across the entire footprint of the SEC.

The league’s hesitation to protect rivalries like Auburn-Georgia stems from its ongoing effort to restructure the conference schedule in light of expansion. With the addition of Oklahoma and Texas in 2024, the SEC is moving to a 16-team format, which significantly complicates scheduling logistics. The once-familiar model of eight conference games—with a division system that ensured yearly matchups between certain teams—has been abandoned in favor of a single-table format with rotating opponents.

This rotation, while promoting balance and fairness over multiple seasons, may come at the expense of continuity and tradition. Sankey emphasized that while rivalries will be considered, there is no official commitment to protect them all.

For Auburn, the consequences are enormous. The Tigers’ schedule has long featured Georgia and Alabama as annual opponents, and though the Iron Bowl’s future seems relatively secure given its status as one of the fiercest rivalries in American sports, the same cannot be said for Auburn-Georgia. In a model where teams may only have one or two permanent opponents under a future schedule format—depending on whether the SEC sticks with eight or moves to nine conference games—tough choices must be made.

Should Auburn be forced to pick just one permanent rivalry, the Iron Bowl would naturally be protected. But that would leave the Georgia game as a rotational opponent, played only every few years. This would sever one of college football’s longest-standing traditions, reducing its continuity and potentially eroding the unique emotional stakes tied to it.

Many Auburn fans and former players are already voicing frustration, calling on the league to find a way to maintain both rivalries. The importance of these matchups, they argue, transcends wins and losses. These games are part of the schools’ identities, shaping seasons, defining careers, and anchoring memories for millions.

From a competitive standpoint, removing Georgia from the annual slate could be seen as a relief to some, given the Bulldogs’ recent dominance. Georgia has won 17 of the last 22 meetings against Auburn, including a streak of consistent performances under coach Kirby Smart. But even those in the Auburn community who’ve endured the pain of recent losses understand that what’s at stake goes beyond scoreboard results.

Losing a rivalry doesn’t just impact fans; it reshapes recruiting dynamics, television ratings, ticket sales, and the emotional core of the sport itself. It changes the rhythm of the season, and for players who grow up dreaming of playing in those games, it alters the very meaning of putting on a uniform.

For the SEC, the challenge lies in balancing modern realities with legacy commitments. The television and media landscape is demanding more marquee matchups across the board, and rotational scheduling allows networks to showcase fresh clashes. But this approach can dilute some of the region’s most powerful narratives—the very stories that have built the SEC into a national brand.

Commissioner Sankey’s comments should not be read as a declaration of indifference, but rather as a sober acknowledgment of the complexities the league now faces. The addition of Texas and Oklahoma brings new historic rivalries to the table, such as the Red River Rivalry, and elevates the importance of offering parity in schedule strength. Protecting every traditional rivalry becomes exponentially harder when the league grows larger and the number of conference games remains unchanged.

In many ways, Auburn is caught in the middle of this collision between past and future. The Tigers stand as one of the few programs in the nation whose two greatest rivals are also perennial national powerhouses. That distinction brings both honor and difficulty. It’s no small feat to face Alabama and Georgia annually, yet Auburn has done so without complaint for decades.

The possibility that one of these games might no longer be annual doesn’t just challenge tradition; it changes Auburn’s very DNA. The Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry has provided unforgettable moments: the 2005 goal-line stand, the 2013 Miracle in Athens, the 2017 upset that propelled Auburn into the SEC title game. These are more than highlights—they’re chapters in a living, breathing football history.

Fans in Auburn and across the South are now left hoping that the league will find a compromise that honors the game’s heritage while adapting to its future. The proposal to move to a nine-game SEC schedule remains on the table, and such a format could create room to preserve multiple rivalries for each school. But logistical, financial, and competitive factors make it an ongoing debate among school presidents, athletic directors, and TV partners.

Still, Sankey’s choice to be candid—saying the SEC will not commit to protecting these rivalries—signals that no solution is imminent. For now, Auburn fans must prepare for a future in which their most sacred Saturdays may look very different.

The sense of uncertainty is disorienting for a fanbase deeply rooted in tradition. College football, particularly in the SEC, is as much about legacy and identity as it is about championships. When you alter the yearly rhythms of historic programs, you risk alienating the emotional base that sustains them.

But as Sankey and the league office weigh options, perhaps there is still room for compromise. Maybe creative scheduling models—like protected rivalries with rotational pods—can provide a middle ground. Perhaps future media partners will recognize the immense value of rivalry continuity and push to keep them intact.

For now, Auburn’s focus will remain on competing at the highest level, no matter who the opponent. But behind every win or loss, there will be a looming question: What will the SEC’s new era cost in terms of identity? If tradition becomes a casualty of progress, the soul of the sport may suffer—no matter how full the coffers may become.

In the meantime, Auburn fans may find themselves cherishing each edition of the Georgia game a little more, unsure of when or if the next one will come. The clock is ticking on decisions that will shape the next century of SEC football. And as Sankey has made clear, nothing is guaranteed.