Let’s not dress this up with sugarcoating or silver linings.

Let’s call it what it was.

Ugly. Disjointed. Embarrassing.

UCF went to Baylor on Saturday and got face-planted.

The Knights didn’t just lose a football game; they lost their sense of direction. They looked unprepared, unfocused,  and — worst of all — uninspired. They lost 30-3 to a struggling, wounded Baylor team whose coach Dave Aranda had been on the hot seat. And with the loss,  UCF’s road losing streak is now seven games dating back to last year. Seven.

It’s hard to call this anything but what it was: a regression.

Once again, UCF’s offense sputtered in the exact moments when toughness was required. Once again, the Knights couldn’t gain 1 yard, when 1 yard was all they needed.

Early in the game, before it got out of hand, coach Scott Frost’s offense faced a third-and-1. Stuffed. Then fourth-and-1. Incomplete pass. It was reminiscent of the Kansas debacle earlier this season, when UCF failed three times from the 1-yard line. For all the talk about “physical culture” and “attention to detail,” this team’s short-yardage offense remains a glaring embarrassment.

There were even two snaps where it wasn’t clear who the ball was supposed to go to. Twice — not once — the Knights’ offense appeared completely lost on the most fundamental act in football: snapping the ball.

That’s not execution. That’s exasperation.

And then there’s the defense. Remember that unit? The one that came into Saturday ranked 26th in the nation and giving up just 292 yards per game? The one that was supposed to be the stabilizing force while the offense figured itself out? Baylor shredded it for 306 yards in the first half alone although the defense did settle down in the second half.

If Frost wanted to find out what rock bottom looks like in his first season back at UCF, he just found it in Waco.

And yet — here’s the paradox — this is exactly the type of performance many of the naysayers expected before the season. Make no mistake: this loss hurts because it likely kills UCF’s shot at a bowl game. At 4-4, the Knights now face three remaining ranked opponents — Houston, Texas Tech, and BYU — plus hapless Oklahoma State. They’ll need to win at least two of those to reach six wins. Yes, it’s still possible when you realize Houston got beat by West Virginia on Saturday — the same West Virginia that UCF dominated two weeks ago.

But maybe that’s the point.

This isn’t supposed to be easy. This isn’t supposed to be polished. This is what rebuilding looks like.

UCF fans, you need to understand something: Scott Frost didn’t just take over a team; he inherited a crater.

Gus Malzahn didn’t leave a program; he fled a problem. He walked away from a $12 million buyout, which tells you everything about how unfixable things had become. He looked around, saw a program crumbling under its own expectations, and took the first Gus Bus out of town to Florida State.

Frost inherited the wreckage — gutted roster, fractured locker room and a half-funded NIL operation. This was never going to be a one-year fix.

UCF’s collective is operating on fumes compared to the oil money of Texas Tech or the deep donor base of BYU. Those programs are swimming in six-figure transfer deals. UCF, comparatively speaking, is still passing around the hat.

Why? Because for its first two years in the Big 12, UCF only received a half-share of league TV revenue. Half. Meanwhile, their competitors were stockpiling talent and front-loading NIL contracts in anticipation of the coming revenue-sharing model that’s supposed to “level the playing field.”

Level? Please. The rich have already doubled down.

Even Malzahn admitted as much a few weeks ago to Warchant.com: “You know, we only had half a share (of Big 12 revenue) for two years. We were playing catch-up.”

Translation: The money wasn’t there, and the mountain was steep.

So now Frost has to climb it — with a frayed rope.

He’s doing it with a patchwork roster, freshman receivers, a duct-taped offensive line and some borrowed quarterbacks. On Saturday, UCF quarterback Tayven Jackson looked pedestrian, throwing two interceptions and no touchdowns. The offense looked discombobulated and accounted for only 225 yards.

This isn’t the dynamic, high-flying UCF we remember from 2017. That offense was nicknamed UCFast. On Saturday, Frost’s offense was UCFrustrating.

Maybe this is just the cruel symmetry of playing Baylor.

Two years ago, Baylor engineered the biggest comeback in school history against UCF — rallying from 35-7 down to win 36-35. That loss became the symbol of UCF’s fragility, the moment the program’s veneer of swagger finally cracked.

Saturday felt like a sequel. Different setting. Same humiliation. Baylor once again exposed UCF’s soft underbelly — both physically and mentally.

That’s the hardest truth of this season: the old UCF, the 2017 “national champions,” the team that built its brand on defiance and speed and audacity. What remains is a shell trying to find itself again.

But maybe that’s OK.

Because in some strange, painful way, this loss was necessary.

This season isn’t about winning the Big 12. It’s about rediscovering who UCF is. It’s about tearing down the hollow illusion of being “big time” and rebuilding something real — even if it means suffering through mediocrity in the short term.

That’s what this Baylor loss represents. It’s not the end of something. It’s the beginning of  something difficult — and necessary.

UCF fans will groan, and they should. You don’t get a free pass for looking this unprepared. But you also don’t throw out the rebuild after eight games.

You don’t measure progress by how far you’ve fallen; you measure it by whether the people in charge are still fighting to climb.

And Frost is still fighting. He may not have all the answers yet, but he has the hunger. He’s not mailing it in. He’s not making excuses. He’s trying to construct a new foundation brick by brick, even when the walls suddenly fall down as they did on Saturday.

The Knights were picked to finish last in the Big 12 for a reason. They’re learning why.

So, yes, this was an ugly loss. The ugliest yet. But if UCF ever wants to rise again, it had to get this low first — to confront its flaws, to realize that the climb back to relevance won’t come through nostalgia or shortcuts.

It’ll come through patience, pain and persistence.

And on Saturday deep in the heart of Texas, UCF got another dose of all three.

Email me at mbianchi@orlandosentinel.com. Hit me up on social media @BianchiWrites and listen to my new radio show “Game On” every weekday from 3 to 6 p.m. on FM 96.9, AM 740 and 969TheGame.com/listen
 

https://www.orlandosentinel.com/2025/11/01/ucf-baylor-scott-frost-mike-bianchi-commentary/