“Hey UNCG — What’s the Fleming Family Think?”

So UNCG went and did the unthinkable. They just yeeted “Fleming Gym” right out of existence. Say hello to Bodford Arena, home of the Spartans and apparently, the power of a $2 million check. You read that right — two mil gets your name on the building now.

Look, no hate to the Bodfords. That’s a fat donation. The university even called it the biggest unrestricted gift in UNCG athletics history. Props to them — they’ve earned a lifetime supply of courtside seats and polite nods from every booster. But let’s talk about the elephant in the gym: what about the Fleming family?

That name wasn’t just some random old label. Fleming Gym had history, sweat, and a slightly questionable smell of old popcorn and victory. Michael B. Fleming wasn’t just a nameplate donor; dude was a civic leader who helped make that place happen. The man’s name went up in the mid-’90s and stayed there for thirty years. That’s longer than some marriages, longer than any coach’s tenure, and definitely longer than half the student body’s attention span.

Now it’s gone — replaced overnight.

UNCG says they’ll “continue to honor Fleming’s legacy” with a plaque on the THIRD level. A plaque. Like, “Hey, sorry we took your name off the building, but here’s this little rectangle you can barely see unless you squint between concessions.”

Imagine walking into your old house and seeing your family photo shoved behind the Wi-Fi router.

It’s classic modern college sports. Loyalty is great, but money talks louder. And sure, maybe the Fleming family’s chill about it. Let’s be honest, though — locals aren’t changing. You can rename the signs, repaint the walls, and roll out new merch, but people are still gonna call it Fleming. It’s muscle memory. You don’t just erase that.

So congrats to UNCG on the new look, and much respect to the Bodfords for putting serious money where their mouth is. But let’s pour one out for Fleming — for the family that built it, for the players who made history there, and for every bro who ever said, “Meet me at Fleming,” after grabbing a Cook Out tray on Tate Street.

Because you can buy naming rights, but you can’t buy nostalgia.

-TBob