ORLANDO, Fla. — I’ve been writing this same column for 20 years now, and every so often, something happens that makes me pull it out, dust it off, and scream it louder:

The University of Central Florida should change its name to the University of Orlando … or Orlando University.

That’s right — drop the “Central,” embrace the city, and stop pretending that the rest of the country knows what or where “Central Florida” is.

In recent weeks, the case for change was once again dropped right in my lap, er, laptop.

When North Carolina coach Bill Belichick was preparing his Tar Heels to face UCF, he referred to the Knights as “Central.”

Not UCF. Not Central Florida. Just Central.

It was a casual slip, but an absolutely telling one.

When one of the greatest coaches in football history thinks your university’s name sounds like a high school, that’s not just a branding problem; that’s an identity crisis.

And it’s one I’ve been warning about for two decades.

You know who else recently brought up the same topic?

Mike Repole — the billionaire entrepreneur behind Bodyarmor, Vitaminwater and now one of the new owners of the Orlando Storm, the city’s new United Football League team.

When I contacted Repole to talk about his latest investment in Orlando sports, he was the one who brought up UCF’s name — unsolicited.

“There’s easy decisions in life and then there are the most obvious decisions of all time,” Repole said. “This university should be known as the University of Orlando. Nobody outside of this state knows where Central Florida is, just as nobody knows where Central Jersey is or Central Iowa or Central New Hampshire. But everybody knows where Orlando is.

“… The name Orlando would be great for recruiting because the recruiting process begins when kids are 7 or 8 years old and they go to Disney World and create great memories. And then when they grow up, they’re like ‘Oh my God, Orlando, I want to go back there.’ Changing the name would be a great branding and marketing tool for the university.”

That’s not me talking. That’s a billionaire brand-builder who understands how names create value.

Repole isn’t a UCF alum, but he’s a UCF donor. He lives in this city and is invested in this city. And, like Belichick’s slip-up, his comment underscores what I’ve been saying for 20 years: “Central Florida” is geographically accurate but emotionally vacant. “Orlando” is a brand.

Let’s be honest, “Central Florida” sounds like a vague geographical description, not a destination. It’s the kind of name universities gave themselves in the 1970s when they were regional commuter schools serving a few counties.

But UCF isn’t that anymore. It hasn’t been for years.

It’s one of the largest universities in the nation, a proud member of the Big 12, and a football program that’s won three New Year’s Six bowl games and gone toe-to-toe with the sport’s bluebloods.

And yet, the “directional” label still sticks like gum on the bottom of a cleat.

Every time a coach, a commentator, or a casual fan calls UCF “Central Florida,” it’s a reminder that — despite all the growth, all the victories, and all the investment — the school’s brand still carries the baggage of its old, regional identity.

I first wrote this column two decades ago, back when George O’Leary, one of the fathers of modern UCF football, was building the program brick by brick.

I remember asking O’Leary what he thought of my suggestion to drop the “Central” and become Orlando University.

He didn’t just agree; he endorsed it.

“I like that,” O’Leary told me. “It makes a lot of sense to me.”

Back then, I wrote:

“If the university wants to create a new reputation and transform its diminutive distinction of being just another insignificant directional school, it should change its name completely. Do away with the directional designation. Dump the University of Central Florida name and become Orlando University.”

That column sparked outrage among some fans and faculty, but O’Leary’s comment stuck.

He understood what so many in academia didn’t: branding matters. Perception matters. And the word “Central” does UCF no favors.

Fast forward to today.

UCF’s national profile is bigger than ever. The Knights are in a Power Four conference and recruiting from coast-to-coast.

But even as the school’s brand has grown, the confusion persists.

“Central” could be anywhere. Orlando is somewhere.

Orlando isn’t just a city. It’s a global destination. It’s the Capital of Fun, the City Beautiful, and the Vacation Capital of the World. Say “Orlando” in Tokyo, London or New York, and everyone knows exactly what you mean.

Say “Central Florida,” and you might as well be giving someone directions to a rest stop in Wildwood.

You know who else doesn’t hate my idea?

Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer himself.

When I floated the name change past him recently, he didn’t dismiss it. He didn’t scoff or call it ridiculous.

He simply said, “I think it would have been a great idea when they changed the name from FTU (Florida Technological University) to UCF (in 1978),” Dyer said.

The mayor then paused before adding, “I still don’t think it would be a bad idea.”

For a politician who’s careful with his words, that’s as close to an endorsement as you’re going to get.

Because deep down, Dyer knows the same thing I do: the city of Orlando and the university that fuels its future are already intertwined.

The downtown campus, the “Hometown Team” marketing, the growing tech corridor; it’s all part of the same civic fabric.

UCF is Orlando.

So why not say it out loud?

The pushback, of course, is predictable.

Some fans will say the “UCF” brand is too established to change now. They’ll point to years of marketing, the undefeated seasons, and the “Charge On” culture built around those three letters.

But let’s be real — in today’s hyper-speed media world, brand recognition isn’t a 50-year project anymore. It’s a 50-day one. Just ask any TikTok or Instagram influencer who can build a social media empire between breakfast and lunch.

Change the name, keep winning football games, and watch how quickly people adapt.

If UCF rebranded tomorrow as the University of Orlando, the same alumni, fans, and donors would rally around it within weeks. ESPN would have a field day with it. Nike would sell out of “Orlando Knights” gear in an hour.

The university wouldn’t lose its identity; it would enhance it.

Because “Orlando” is a name that carries instant recognition, international appeal, and emotional energy. It’s a name that would open doors — for students, alumni and, yes, football and basketball recruits.

Orlando is aspirational, not directional.

I realize that changing a university’s name is no small thing. It takes vision, guts, and yes, probably a few years of bureaucratic wrangling.

But the payoff would be enormous.

Imagine “Orlando University” flashing across ESPN on a Saturday night. Imagine recruits taking visits and telling their friends, “Yeah, I’m going to Orlando University.” Imagine the admissions bump when high school seniors abroad see “University of Orlando” on a study-abroad brochure.

It’s not just cosmetic; it’s strategic.

So go ahead and call this column my 20-year crusade. Call it repetitive. Call it obsessive.

But the next time a national figure like Bill Belichick shrugs and calls UCF “Central,” just remember — I told you so.

And when the Board of Trustees finally gets the courage to make the leap, when that gleaming “University of Orlando” signage finally goes up across campus, I’ll be the guy standing out front with a sign that reads:

WELCOME TO THE UNIVERSITY OF ORLANDO — IT’S ABOUT TIME!