Musings from Arledge: A crushing loss for USC

That was a crushing loss for the USC Trojans.

All losses are not the same. Some losses end a championship season that is within reach. Texas. 13-9. Notre Dame 1988. Those losses live forever.

Some losses are disappointing but still leave hope for a great season. The Michigan loss was like that. Losing to Michigan left no margin for error, but all of the realistic goals—including the playoffs—were still in sight. Or so it seemed.

And some losses just show you that you didn’t really understand your team and that your hopes were deeply unrealistic. After those losses, you watch the games and love your team. But you know that nothing special is possible because the team just isn’t good enough.

Minnesota was one of those losses. Minnesota is not a very good football team. They’re a running team that hasn’t been able to run the ball all year. They’re a middling team that was 0-3 against FBS competition. After watching USC lose to that Minnesota team in a must-win game, we know; this is a team that can lose to just about anybody remaining on the schedule. And it almost certainly will lose a few more.

Like many people, I have wondered for some time what would happen if Lincoln Riley ever married his offenses to a good defense, or even a pretty good defense. I thought there was a chance for that this year. After LSU, I thought we may be on track for a special season.

I was wrong. The defense is improved. It’s not a great defense. They’re still not good enough upfront to be elite. They give up too many big plays. And against the Gophers, they struggled. The tackling looked suspiciously like 2023. They didn’t have a single drive when they shut Minnesota down and got off the field quickly. Here are the yardage totals on each of Minnesota’s drives: 24, 49, 75, 27, 28, 45, 65, and 75. That’s not very good. And those last two numbers are killers, because the defense folded in the fourth quarter like Alex Grinch’s defenses did. That hurts. 

But let’s also acknowledge that the defense has gone from one of the worst defenses in the country to one that has held every opponent to a reasonable number of points—including Minnesota. No, this game was not their finest moment. To win titles, USC still has to get much better defensively. But they still gave up only 24 points. We all know that this defense paired with a normal Lincoln Riley offense would be more than enough. USC needed 25 points to win? 

That’s a layup.    

And there’s the rub; this isn’t a Lincoln Riley offense. It can’t be a Lincoln Riley offense because it simply cannot protect the quarterback. Not against LSU. Not against Michigan. Not against Minnesota. Not against anybody with a pulse. This is simply one of the worst pass-blocking offensive lines I’ve ever seen. When USC makes plays in the passing game, it’s almost always with Miller Moss taking incoming fire like the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. 

Miller Moss, a tough kid, is doing his best. But so far this year, he has nine touchdowns, four interceptions, and six purple hearts. House of Victory is the first collective that is legally obligated to provide combat pay to its quarterback. USC has a young player that isn’t ready to play at right guard. And I’m just going to say it, because we know it’s true: USC has the worst pair of pass-blocking tackles in the conference. Every Saturday USC’s tackles make some edge nobody has ever heard of look like Lawrence Taylor. 

If USC had two average tackles, they would be 5-0 and likely headed to a playoff berth. That’s the sad reality.  

Is Lincoln Riley surprised? Did he not know how dire the situation was? I expect offensive masterminds to know their personnel well enough to realize that the quarterback will be at risk of major damage every week. Knowing what he had in his offensive line room, how did he not find a competent tackle (or two) in the portal? Not a superstar. Just somebody who can compete with the average teams on the schedule.

Up 17-10 and driving for a score that probably ices the game, all USC had to do was finish the drive without hitting an iceberg. But a Minnesota edge rusher dominated an offensive tackle and caused an interception. Then on the next possession, a drive that must end in points, USC tried passing on first down—its backs were averaging 7.4 yards per carry at the time—and found themselves in 2^nd and 19 when the pass rush immediately overwhelmed Moss—again—and caused a grounding penalty.

Every team has weaknesses. You just hope your weaknesses don’t kill you. USC’s weaknesses on offense are killing it. You cannot win the Big Ten, you cannot go to the playoffs, and you cannot win 10 games when your tackles get dominated by the opponent’s edge rushers every single week. You just can’t.  

Riley won’t say any of that publicly. And he shouldn’t. But I can say it, because I’m not responsible for their morale or their development, and what’s the point of writing these articles if I’m not going to tell the truth?

It now appears that moving Jonah Monheim to center was a tragic mistake. Yes, USC needed a center. Yes, Monheim wanted to show the NFL what he could do there. But Monheim at tackle would have given USC a chance. You’d have one side that you could count on. Now roll away from the other side or chip with the running back or something. But I don’t know what you do now. It’s year three, Monheim is at center, and Lincoln Riley doesn’t have anybody on the roster who can play tackle and competently pass block. They’re all too young or too slow. So I guess you roll out the group you’ve got, you pray for Miller Moss’s safety, and you take what you get. But we can see by now how that ends.

Joe Paterno said, “You’re never as good as you think you are when you win; and you’re never as bad as you feel when you lose.” That’s almost certainly true. But five games in we know what we have with this USC team. It’s a bowl team. It’s a team with some high-end talent at a few spots. It’s a team that has improved defensively and is capable of getting enough stops to win with a normal Lincoln Riley offense. But it’s not a great team, and it’s probably not even a good team. It’s a team with a weakness so big that it is vulnerable every Saturday for the rest of the year.