USC Booster Threatens to Remove Trojans From Will if Notre Dame Rivalry Ends, Stirring Backlash Over College Football Tradition

The University of Southern California is facing a wave of internal and public backlash after a prominent and long-time athletic booster threatened to revoke a significant portion of his planned donation to the school if the university proceeds with any plans to cancel or deprioritize its historic football rivalry with Notre Dame. The revelation has sent shockwaves through Trojan Nation, igniting a fierce debate about tradition, money, and the soul of college football.

The booster, who asked to remain anonymous but has been confirmed by multiple sources as a seven-figure donor to USC’s athletic department, reportedly told senior university officials earlier this month that he would remove USC from his will if administrators allowed the rivalry with Notre Dame to be disrupted or discontinued following recent conference realignment and scheduling difficulties.

“I’m not giving this university a dime if they let the Notre Dame game die,” the booster said in a private email obtained by multiple media outlets. “That game is sacred. It’s what binds generations of Trojans and Irish together. Canceling it would be an unforgivable betrayal of our legacy.”

The emotional and financial ultimatum has struck a nerve among USC fans, many of whom view the annual game against Notre Dame as the heart and soul of Trojan football. The rivalry, which began in 1926 and has been played every year except for World War II and the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, is widely regarded as one of the greatest inter-sectional matchups in college football history. Alternating between the Los Angeles Coliseum and South Bend’s Notre Dame Stadium, the contest has long symbolized the contrast between West Coast glamour and Midwest grit, Catholic tradition and secular innovation, as well as academic excellence and football prowess.

News of the booster’s threat has sparked outrage and panic across fan forums, social media platforms, and alumni circles. Many longtime supporters of the program say they are appalled that the game’s future could be in jeopardy due to recent changes brought on by USC’s move to the Big Ten, a realignment that has forced schools to rethink longstanding schedules in favor of more lucrative and conference-heavy lineups.

“This game isn’t just about football. It’s about our identity,” said former USC linebacker Chris Claiborne, who played in three editions of the rivalry in the late 1990s. “You don’t throw away almost 100 years of tradition because you want a slightly easier travel schedule or more TV revenue.”

Administrators at USC have not confirmed whether there is any concrete plan to end the rivalry, but recent internal discussions about scheduling constraints, future Big Ten obligations, and limited non-conference slots have raised concerns that the Notre Dame series could become a casualty of modern college football’s evolution. Those concerns were enough to prompt the booster’s dramatic ultimatum, which, according to sources close to the situation, carries significant financial weight. The booster’s estate is estimated to be worth tens of millions of dollars, with at least $5 million previously earmarked for USC’s athletic endowment.

University spokespersons have declined to comment directly on the situation, issuing only a general statement: “USC values its longstanding traditions, including its historic rivalry with Notre Dame. The university remains committed to evaluating all aspects of our athletic future with respect to both competitive excellence and the Trojan legacy.”

That tepid reassurance has done little to calm fears among fans who feel blindsided by even the possibility that the game could be in peril. Alumni groups have begun circulating petitions to pressure the administration to guarantee the continuation of the rivalry, with one popular petition garnering more than 25,000 signatures within 48 hours. The letter accompanying the petition urges President Carol Folt and Athletic Director Jennifer Cohen to “uphold our sacred football traditions” and to “stand firm in defense of what makes USC football a national institution.”

“It’s unthinkable,” said Martha Davis, class of 1983 and current member of the Trojan Alumni Network in Orange County. “I’ve brought my kids to the Notre Dame game every other year since they were born. If they cancel this game, they cancel part of who we are.”

Even Notre Dame supporters have weighed in, expressing their own deep concern about the potential end of one of college football’s marquee matchups. Fighting Irish head coach Marcus Freeman, when asked about the situation at a recent press conference, was diplomatic but clear: “That’s a rivalry we respect deeply. It’s more than just a date on the calendar—it’s part of the DNA of both programs.”

Behind the scenes, there are signs that the public uproar and the booster’s financial pressure may be influencing decision-makers at USC. One university official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, acknowledged that the threat from the booster “woke up some people in the administration who maybe didn’t fully grasp how sacred this game is to our supporters.” The official added, “There’s definitely a realization now that touching that game would be a nuclear option.”

That recognition may have come too late for some. Critics of recent college football realignment have warned that the relentless drive toward television contracts, conference consolidation, and playoff expansion is eroding the sport’s unique regional character and long-standing rivalries. USC’s potential jeopardizing of the Notre Dame series is, for many, a case study in what happens when tradition collides with modern economics.

“You see it happening all across the country,” said Paul Finebaum, longtime college football analyst. “Oklahoma and Oklahoma State, Texas and Texas A&M, now USC and Notre Dame potentially—it’s like we’re watching the slow death of the sport we grew up with. Fans aren’t stupid. They know a money grab when they see one, and they’re not happy about it.”

Some USC officials reportedly believe that compromise is possible. One proposal being explored would see the rivalry maintained but played less frequently—perhaps every other year instead of annually. That idea, however, has been met with fierce resistance from both fans and the influential booster now threatening to pull his donation.

“That’s not a compromise,” said the booster. “That’s a downgrade. You don’t take the Mona Lisa off display and say, ‘Well, you can still see it once every two years.’ The game has to be played every season. Period.”

For the players themselves, many of whom grew up watching USC-Notre Dame games with their families, the rivalry carries deep emotional significance. Former quarterback Matt Leinart, who famously led USC to a thrilling 34-31 win in South Bend in 2005, said the experience was one of the defining moments of his life.

“Running out of that tunnel, hearing that crowd—it’s what every college player dreams of,” Leinart said. “That game is magic. If we let that slip away, we lose something we can’t ever get back.”

As the firestorm continues to build, it is clear that the potential cancellation—or even modification—of the USC-Notre Dame rivalry has become a symbolic flashpoint in the broader culture war gripping college football. Supporters say the game is a living monument to a bygone era of the sport, when traditions mattered more than television ratings or playoff brackets.

For now, university officials are walking a tightrope, trying to balance logistical realities with emotional loyalties. But if the reaction to the booster’s threat is any indication, the stakes of that decision go far beyond financial spreadsheets.

“Football isn’t just about winning games,” said Davis, the alumna. “It’s about the stories we pass down. The rivalries, the heartbreaks, the triumphs—that’s what binds us together. USC vs. Notre Dame is part of our story. And if we let it die, we’re not just losing a game. We’re losing part of ourselves.”