It’s 2:20 p.m., and my 1978 Ford Fiesta has decided that functioning properly is not one of its top priorities. That’s right, my teammate and I are now stranded on the side of an Austrian autobahn. Which begs the question: Why I am I here?
The simple, all encompassing answer is because I love the game of football. And now the game has taken me from Rochester, N.Y. to Klagenfurt, Austria (via Storrs, Conn.). Apparently, the game has also taken me to the side of this highway, while I curse terrible American car manufacturing (only to realize later the oil hadn’t been changed since its production year).
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