⚡ CFB Dashboard

One team has history, national championships, Heisman Trophies, more fight songs than you can count and a tradition that says Fight On!. It plays in the most iconic stadium since that original Coliseum with its unmatched sports history. It represents a proud school with even prouder academics in the heart of one of the once most dynamic places in all the world. The other team, Oregon, doesn't have much. No real tradition. Not a great school. Can't decide on what exactly its colors are. Located in a back-woodsy place where if you like to run through the country in swooshy shoes made by an alum who gives you lots of money, that's your place, although even that shoe business isn't doing all that well anymore. And yet, when it comes to football in the 21st century, the backwoods boys have it all figured out while the school with the 100 years head start doesn't seem to have a clue. Throw more money at it, they figure. Hire more people. Re-do their historic Coliseum. Bring back the Heisman guys. Hope the fans show up, even when the tickets are sold. No names on the back of their jerseys for them, no need to. Although there's a part of their cardinal and gold crew with those silly little white towel strips and that black tape over their white socks whose only purpose is to scream out "please look at me, I'll be the defender tracking down the ball after giving up the easy reception or losing contain at the quick cut past me as I'm flapping my arms – and jaws – in frustration." You could recognize them as the guys dapping up Desman Stephens II after his unfortunate follow-through with his shoulder and forearm on late-sliding quarterback Dante Moore who seemed to lose more than consciousness in that collision right in front of the Oregon bench. It was unseemly. Not so much the hit alone. Stuff like that happens. Defenders are in a difficult spot when a quarterback slides late. But the rest of it? And no coach available on the USC sideline – or out on the field in the near scuffle – to signal to cut it out. Which gets us to the real problem here. USC football, if it's anything right now, is simply not well-coached. Not well-led. That's the straightforward way to say it. The Trojans too often, especially on defense, look like they're on their own. A USC defender flies through the air after missing a tackle. (Photo: Shotgun Spratling | USCfootball.com) Not able to respond as a team. The way Oregon did when it mattered most. When a USC run tied things up at 27-27 and had the Coliseum crowd really into it. And when you said to yourself, this is another of those games against a good team that for USC to win, it will have to win with its defense. It will have to make a stand. Will have to get after the quarterback in what had been – and would remain – a sackless performance. Would have to defend a pass or two, the way Oregon's defenders had been doing all night. Although the first stats had USC defenders allowing 27 receptions on 34 passes "defended." Yikes. And you might have thought to hurry up backup Duck quarterback Dylan Raiola. Put him under some pressure. But no sacks there. Not sure he ever hit the turf. So no can do for USC. That's just not in the Lincoln Riley playbook. No matter the defensive coordinator from young guys finding their way to a Hall of Famer with all the experience in the world, the results are the same. When push came to shove, Oregon did all the pushing and shoving. The Ducks responded the way you'd want your team to at crunch time. That's how you do it. You get after the quarterback. You defend every pass. You give up nothing. You find someone to run over in the tough short-yardage plays at the goal line. And you score the game's final 14 points and run out that magnificent tunnel screaming and shouting and pounding one another on the back. Because you have what it takes to win football games like this. And USC has Riley. And all that wonderful history and those Heismans and the facilities and the money – and on this day, the fans – won't make a difference. Toughness trumps all that. Poise and physicality that are there every play make it possible to smile all the way up the tunnel. The way USC once did. Luke Wafle. (Photo: Shotgun Spratling | USCfootball.com) Because you know you know how to play – and you know that you're prepared to play that way – and USC is not. Sure, the Trojans can play the tough guy for one play here and there, and they have those sensational freshman talents who deserve better, but that's it. Because when it comes to USC football these days, what the Trojans have is a deficit of trust. Check out the run-up to this game. Look at the handicapping of the staff here at USCFootball.com for this game. The basic and pretty near unanimous – and correct – conclusion? We don't trust this USC team. Can't pick 'em. Even at home. Even with a sellout crowd. Even with a talent standoff. Nope. No can do. "We can't trust 'em. We just can't," our folks said. Same for USC's fan base. The more they've cared about USC football in recent decades, the more they realized those feelings will not be reciprocated. But it doesn't end there. As much as the USC media and fan base don't trust their Trojans, it looks like the Trojans don't trust one another. The coaches don't trust the players to get the job done. Look at the way they ask them to defend. Oregon clearly trusts its guys to get the job done. USC does not. Give 'em time, you say. Five years isn't enough. Hey, they had to overcome the Lane Kiffin, Steve Sarkisian and Ed Orgeron years (OK, the Clay Helton years as well) and five years isn't enough time to do that, we're told. What have those guys (three out of four, anyway) done since they were run out of town? Of course no one believes that. And belief is a big part of what is missing at USC. You can't beat good programs, you can't get back into the playoffs, you can't win national championships if you don't believe. I always liked the way Pete Carroll didn't shy away from the Heismans the way some did as emphasizing an individual award in a team game. Pete framed it perfectly from the outset, as he so often did. The Heisman was a team award, Pete always said. Your team wins it for the guy whose name is on the trophy. Gary Patterson talks to Lincoln Riley after the game. (Photo: Shotgun Spratling | USCfootball.com) Because the winner trusted his teammates. And they trusted him. Which is how this works. Or is supposed to. You gotta' trust one another to do the right thing. Like step up and say no to celebrating a hit on a guy who looks to be convulsing. But that didn't happen for USC Saturday. And it's not going to happen until these Trojans learn, understand and prove they know what football is all about. As the last century of USC football has made clear, it takes a great coach to make that happen. Howard Jones, John McKay and Pete Carroll were pretty much unparalleled in their time as their multiple national championships made clear. You could trust USC football when it was in their hands. With Lincoln Riley in charge, you obviously cannot. As Saturday night in the Coliseum made clear once again. Dan Weber is a former USCFootball.com beat writer and columnist back home in Northern Kentucky just a mile-and-a-half from the original Big Ten Country. Contact him at dweber3440@aol.com. Follow him on X (formerly Twitter) @dweber3440.