When USC pulled off the stunner and landed Lincoln Riley from Oklahoma, it wasn’t just a coaching hire-it was a statement. A blue blood program poaching a coach from another blue blood?
That doesn’t happen often. And when it does, the message is loud and clear: we’re here to win championships.
Not just games. Not just bowl invites.
Championships.
Riley arrived in Los Angeles with a 10-year, $110 million contract and the kind of hype that made it feel like USC was ready to return to its early-2000s dominance-think back-to-back national titles, seven straight Pac-10 crowns, and a swagger that made the Trojans the envy of college football. But four seasons in, that vision feels more like a distant dream than a rising reality.
Tuesday night’s Alamo Bowl loss to TCU felt like a microcosm of the Riley era so far. The game ended in gut-punch fashion: a 35-yard walk-off touchdown in overtime where USC’s defense simply couldn’t make a tackle. It was a scene that’s become all too familiar for Trojan fans-high-powered offense, shaky defense, and a late-game collapse that leaves more questions than answers.
Now, to be fair, both teams were missing key players due to opt-outs, as is common in bowl season these days. But that doesn’t soften the blow for USC supporters who have seen this script before. And it certainly didn’t sit well with some of the program’s most recognizable alumni.
LenDale White, a key piece of USC’s glory years, let loose on social media with an unfiltered rant that made his frustration crystal clear. Former team captain Petros Papadakis kept it short but powerful: “The walls of Troy have fallen.”
Jake Olson, who famously served as USC’s long snapper despite being blind, was more measured but no less pointed, calling Riley “clueless at times” and questioning the regression in play-calling. And Su’a Cravens didn’t hold back either, calling the current state of the program “embarrassing” and rejecting the idea that USC is just “one play away.”
That’s not just noise-it’s a chorus of former players, guys who bled for the program, saying enough is enough.
And they’re not without reason. In four seasons under Riley, USC is 35-18 overall and 24-12 in conference play.
For comparison, the coach he replaced-Clay Helton-went 34-18 in his first four years. The difference?
Riley was supposed to be the guy who elevated the program. Instead, the Trojans feel stuck in neutral.
Even with the move to the Big Ten looming and a roster that’s arguably more talented and better built than it was when Riley arrived, the results haven’t matched the expectations. And the disconnect between the program and its alumni base seems to be growing wider with every disappointing finish.
Adding to the sting this month was the cancellation of the historic rivalry game between USC and Notre Dame. Trojan legend Keyshawn Johnson didn’t mince words, sarcastically suggesting the program should just admit it’s scared. That’s not the kind of jab you expect from someone who once proudly wore the cardinal and gold.
And yet, after the Alamo Bowl loss, Riley struck a defiant tone. “A window has opened,” he said. “It’s taken a lot of effort, by a lot of people, a lot of commitment for four fun but challenging years to get it open, and it’s open now.”
That’s a bold claim, especially when the scoreboard and the record books tell a different story. The idea that it takes four years to turn around a program like USC doesn’t hold much water when you look around the country.
Curt Cignetti, for example, took over a program with fewer resources and made the College Football Playoff in his first year. In year two, he has the top team in the country.
So while Riley may feel the foundation is finally in place, the fanbase is tired of waiting. They didn’t sign up for moral victories or long-term blueprints.
They signed up for wins. For playoff appearances.
For national relevance. And right now, that still feels a long way off.
Whether the defense improves or not, whether the Notre Dame rivalry is renewed or not, one thing is clear: Lincoln Riley was brought to USC to deliver results. Four years in, the results haven’t matched the promise. And in a place like Troy, that’s not just disappointing-it’s unacceptable.