At sagging USC, Lincoln Riley should be on the hottest of hot seats

Los Angeles Times

3 days ago

As the fabled fight song heats up and the legendary gesture wags anew, let's get one thing straight about what was once the Los Angeles sports landscape's shining monument.
USC football has become a mirage.
The greatness is gone. The new tradition is mediocrity. The new heritage is irrelevance.
'Fight on' has become 'Paddle on,' with each ensuing season an exasperating exercise in keeping that Trojan helmet afloat.
This is not opinion. This is not hyperbole. This is fact.
In the last 16 seasons USC has recorded double-digit victories five times.
During that same time span, Alabama has recorded double-digit victories 15 times.
In the last 16 seasons, USC has had one major bowl victory.
During that same span, Ohio State has 10 major bowl victories.
Since the departure of Pete Carroll after the 2009 season, the Trojan football program has been rocked by NCAA punishment, roiled by a litany of ill-fitting coaches, betrayed by a string of embarrassing losses, and generally kneecapped by its own hubris.
This was once the greatest dynasty in college football history. I know, I was there, and rarely has one team energized and inspired this entire city like Uncle Pete's champions.
But watching video from those days is like watching an alien football team on Mars. The current product, with all its failures and excuses, is almost completely unrecognizable.
In the past 16 years, the program has dissolved into the equivalent of a mediocre wannabe that no longer competes with the likes of Ohio State, Michigan, Texas, Georgia and Clemson.
USC has basically become the other USC — a South Carolina-type program filled with big aspirations but average results.
The Athletic recently ranked college football programs in terms of value. Despite playing in the country's entertainment capital alongside the country's most valuable professional basketball and baseball teams, the Trojans ranked only eighth. They were estimated as being worth nearly $1 billion less than top-ranked Texas, a school that plays in a much smaller market with eight fewer national titles.
Which brings us to the doorstep of another seemingly nondescript season, but one framed in a bold-faced question.
Lincoln Riley has to be better, right? He has to win double-digit games for only the second time in his four seasons, right? He has to lead the 2025 squad to a bowl game that isn't played in San Diego or Las Vegas, right?
Most folks think Riley is not on a hot seat because of the untenable cost of his buyout, reportedly in the neighborhood of $80 million.
That better be wrong.
If USC wants to return to its former glory, Trojan administrators must hold Riley accountable for further tarnishing that shine.
In a billion-dollar industry, with a $200-million football facility currently under construction, USC cannot view its coach through a financial lens, only a football lens. They must insist that he win football games at a rate higher than, say, the guy he replaced.
Through 40 games, Riley is 26-14. Through 40 games, Clay Helton was 28-12 as a head coach.
Helton was publicly torn from limb to limb, yet Riley gets a pass?
Riley is 7-6 without Caleb Williams. He is 3-9 against ranked opponents. He has lost virtually every big game and blown almost every big moment.
If he doesn't change the narrative this season, USC needs to change the coach.
The Trojans have stabilized their front office with sharp athletic director Jen Cohen and highly regarded general manager Chad Bowden. They've made huge monetary investments in infrastructure and recruiting.
Now it's on Riley. And he needs to get it done now.
If Texas A&M can pony up $77.5 million to buy out Jimbo Fisher, USC can find the money to replace Riley. The cost is unimaginable, but the price of falling further behind in an evolving sport where at least a dozen programs have already left them in the dust is even higher.
'I give a lot of credit to our administration … because it's very apparent that USC is extremely serious about making this football program and returning it back to being one of the greats in college football,' Riley said to reporters Thursday at Big Ten media day in Las Vegas.
He's right. Everything is there for him to succeed.
Take the 2025 schedule. It's the lightest in years. The Trojans don't play Ohio State. They don't play Penn State. They don't play Indiana. They play Michigan at the Coliseum.
Their only tough nonconference game is at Notre Dame. Their only serious hurdle on the road is at Oregon.
USC should hold Riley to a standard of 10 wins, which should make the Trojans competitive for one of the 12 playoff spots.
Certainly, that's a lot of mandated wins. But at some point, the Trojan administration has to start demanding that they become the Trojans again, and that time is now.
They certainly cannot give Riley a grace period because he has the nation's top recruiting class due to arrive in 2026. Riley has been here four years, the talent should be here by now, and he should not be allowed to hold the program hostage until his best class shows up.
You want to judge Riley by impactful players? Judge him by this year's quarterback, Jayden Maiava. He is Riley's personal project, having been anointed the starter without offseason competition from the portal.
Maiava was both raw and brilliant last year after replacing Miller Moss, going 3-1 as a starter capped by a 17-point comeback in a Las Vegas Bowl victory over Texas A&M. He completed less than 60% of his passes in three of the four starts, and threw six interceptions to offset his 11 touchdown passes, but his athleticism is impressive and his arm is amazing.
It says here the new kid has a chance to be great. Riley can remind Trojan fans of his best asset if he can lead the new kid to that greatness.
'His arm talent, the decisiveness in which he plays and how he sees things is really unique and has a chance to be really special,' Riley said, later repeating, 'He has a chance to be a really, really special player.'
And USC has a chance to have a really special season.
For sure. For real.
For the second time in 17 years.