The Vanishing Rivalries of College Football: A Sport Losing Its Soul?
There’s something deeply unsettling about the current state of college football. It’s not just the chaos surrounding NIL legislation or the endless debates about conference realignment. No, what truly bothers me is the slow erosion of the very thing that made this sport magical: its rivalries. Personally, I think the decline of these once-annual battles isn’t just a scheduling issue—it’s a symptom of a sport prioritizing profit over passion.
Take the Oklahoma-Nebraska rivalry, for instance. This wasn’t just a game; it was an event. Two powerhouse programs, often vying for national supremacy, clashing in a way that defined college football. But since Nebraska’s move to the Big Ten and Oklahoma’s jump to the SEC, this rivalry has become a ghost of its former self. Sure, they’re scheduled to meet again in 2029, but let’s be real—in today’s landscape, that game is more likely to get canceled than played. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it reflects the broader trend of conferences cannibalizing themselves for short-term gains, leaving fans with a hollowed-out version of the sport they love.
Then there’s the Backyard Brawl between Pitt and West Virginia. This wasn’t about national championships; it was about pride, proximity, and pure vitriol. The 2007 game, where Pitt spoiled West Virginia’s title hopes with a 13-9 upset, is still legendary. Fans chant the score to this day. But after the Big East dissolved, this rivalry went dormant for over a decade. Even though they’ve played annually since 2022, the long-term future is uncertain. From my perspective, this is a microcosm of what’s wrong with modern college football: rivalries are treated as disposable, contingent on conference alignment rather than tradition.
The Border War between Kansas and Missouri is another casualty. This wasn’t just a game; it was a century-old feud fueled by geography and animosity. When Missouri left for the SEC in 2011, the rivalry was shelved, despite being the second-most-played in FBS history. While they’ve briefly rekindled it in recent years, its future is as uncertain as ever. One thing that immediately stands out is how this rivalry’s demise underscores the folly of playoff expansion. What many people don’t realize is that rivalries like this thrive on regional intensity, not national stakes. By chasing a bigger playoff, we’re losing the very essence of college football.
And let’s not forget Michigan-Notre Dame. This was a matchup of blue bloods, a fixture since the late 1970s. Games like the 1988 thriller, where Notre Dame clinched a national title with a last-minute win, are part of college football lore. But Notre Dame ended the series after 2014, citing scheduling priorities. A detail that I find especially interesting is that Notre Dame’s independent status means they can’t even blame conference realignment. This was a conscious choice to prioritize easier opponents over tradition. What this really suggests is that even the most storied programs are willing to sacrifice their identity for a shot at the playoff.
If you take a step back and think about it, the decline of these rivalries isn’t just about scheduling—it’s about values. College football used to be about community, tradition, and the thrill of beating your rival. Now, it’s about TV deals, NIL money, and padding win columns. The Senate’s attempts to regulate NIL are a bandaid on a bullet wound. The real issue is a sport that’s lost its way, trading soul for spectacle.
This raises a deeper question: Can college football survive without its rivalries? In my opinion, the sport is already unrecognizable to fans of previous generations. The nostalgia for ‘the way it used to be’ isn’t just sentimentality—it’s a cry for a return to authenticity. Rivalries weren’t just games; they were cultural touchstones, moments that defined seasons and careers. Without them, college football risks becoming just another product, devoid of the passion that once made it great.
So, what’s the solution? Personally, I think it starts with prioritizing tradition over profit. Conferences and programs need to stop treating rivalries as expendable. Fans deserve better than a sport that’s more concerned with its bottom line than its legacy. Until then, we’ll just keep losing pieces of what made college football special—one canceled rivalry at a time.
