Notre Dame’s absence from USC’s 2026 slate shifts the rivalry’s meaning

USC and Notre Dame have long been treated as natural rivals in college football, the kind of matchup that feels built into the sport’s mythology. This season, though, Notre Dame is not playing USC, and that simple scheduling fact is reshaping the conversation around what the rivalry is supposed to accomplish. With no direct contest on the horizon, the bad blood tends to move from the field to the broader arguments that surround the modern game: eligibility, enforcement, and the way the sport is governed.

For USC supporters, Notre Dame still carries emotional weight, but the relationship can become less immediate when there is no yearly measuring stick. The same is true in reverse for Notre Dame fans, who often define themselves against a different set of challengers. Yahoo Sports’ recap of the rivalry discourse points out that USC’s more prominent “enemy” framing has traditionally included Notre Dame and UCLA, with USC’s internal rival ladder shaped by proximity, tradition, and program identity.

What complicates that customary rivalry framework is the way the national landscape has trained fans to think beyond a single opponent. In that context, the Yahoo Sports piece notes that ESPN, when building lists of “arch-enemies” for major conference programs, landed on the NCAA rather than a school as USC’s central villain. The point is less about any specific institution on the field and more about the rule-making body that fans believe influences recruiting, enforcement, postseason access, and the overall competitive balance.

The debate reflects a broader shift in how college football rivalries are expressed. In earlier eras, a rivalry’s core was usually anchored in an annual contest and a straightforward story line. Today, some rivalries are increasingly indirect, expressed through recruiting and national branding, or through public frustration with the governing structure. When USC and Notre Dame do not meet, the “enemy” can feel like it expands outward, from a program to a system.

There is also a practical scheduling implication behind the emotional one. When a marquee rivalry is removed from the slate for a season, it changes how fans judge their teams’ preparation for the year. The rivalry no longer provides a clear, direct storyline that can resolve questions early, and it leaves more room for other opponents and other benchmarks to define the narrative. In that sense, the rivalry’s absence does not erase the history, but it delays the moment where the history can be tested.

Looking ahead, the key question is what happens when the next USC-Notre Dame meeting finally arrives, and whether the rivalry returns to its traditional focus as the central test of supremacy in that corner of the sport. If it does not, the ESPN-style framing that elevates the NCAA as the primary antagonist may keep spreading, especially in seasons where major matchups between historical heavyweights do not materialize.

The season also serves as a reminder that college football rivalries are not static. They are negotiated by schedules, conferences, and the constant churn of rules and enforcement. For USC and Notre Dame, the rivalry may still feel real, but this year it is being channeled through a different lens, one where the governing body can end up as the most immediate “enemy” in the fan imagination. That is a meaningful change, even if the teams never meet.