I no longer dream of the ultimate, Saturday college-Sunday NFL fantasy football weekend taking place within the confines of the same state. That's because I literally experienced it this past weekend in the great State of Wisconsin, with a visit to the University of Wisconsin last Saturday and the Green Bay Packers last Sunday. And man, oh man, what a wild, wacky (pick your adjective) weekend it was. And, oh, where to begin.

Let's start with early Saturday morning when my fine, lime green 1984 Mercedes  running on vegetable oil suddenly stalled around 2 a.m. during nightmarish construction traffic on I-90/94, north of downtown Chicago. I managed to safely pull over, and, at the time, I thought the problem was likely a lack of fuel (diesel/biodiesel and/or vegetable oil, as I was decidedly low on both). However, I got the car started 10 minutes later and was back in business, only getting stuck in more one-lane traffic while also missing my hotel exit. I hit the pillow at 3:30 a.m. at a Motel 6 in Chicago's northwest suburbs and the alarm rang at 7:30 a.m. for my destination was Madison, Wisconsin, two hours away and home of the Big 10 Badgers and formerly rated as one of the Top 10 party schools on the college circuit.

By 8 a.m. Saturday, I was on the road - and stalled again. Only this time my problem had been identified: diesel busting out of two of return fuel lines like Noah's Ark. Not good, not good at all, especially since I had no idea how to fix it. In the short-term, I would just burn oil - lots of it.

But stop now? Not if I could help it. I had driven the night prior from Ann Arbor, Michigan, some 250 miles away, where I had taken in University of Michigan basketball and hockey games. I wasn't going to let Noah's Ark ruin my ultimate fantasy football weekend.

I got the car started (again), only to see the car stall (again) on the 1-90 toll road. My confidence tumbled around 8:20 a.m. as I called 911 seeking a tow. A unfriendly driver with Pete's Towing soon showed up, and proceeded to aggressively push me into a tow to a general service station in a small, nearby town of West Dundee, Illinois that wasn't even open and wouldn't be until Monday; "I got 12 other service calls this morning and you (that would be me, Joe Connor) need to make a decision." I decided to make the tow man wait until I called my State Farm agent so I could find the nearest station that serviced Mercedes and diesels, not gasoline-fueled machines. The tow man decided I wasn't worth his time so he took off, leaving me stranded. Real classy.

I decided then and there that no jerk on this planet was going to stop me from getting to Madison, Wisconsin, not even Officer Krupke who next visited me along the lonely road to lecture me on how to pull a stalled car off the side of the road. Before Illinois' finest had gotten out of his lights-flashing vehicle, I had started the car (again), then convinced Mr. Policeman I was now good to go, and I didn't stop (the car, that is) until I pulled in front of a house a few blocks from Camp Randall Stadium around Noon.

A 21-year-old Wisconsin engineering major had read about my journey thanks to Jim Caple's writing on ESPN.com, and invited me to park at his house. I not only accepted the offer, I also took him to the game because one of my awesome sponsors, Doc Sports (http://www.docsports.com), had Badger season tickets and let me use their two seats.

Camp Randall, which opened in 1917, was an incredible awesome sea of red and roar, and the Dairymakers did not disappoint the 80,000 plus faithful, ousting Michigan. But without a doubt the most amazing part of the pigskin in Wisconsin's state capitol wasn't even the game - it was the post-game Badger band, performing its "fifth quarter celebration." In summary: it's a unique popurri of brainstorming music and dance, with fans playing along to everything from "Beer Barrel Polka" to the Chicken Dance.

Post-game, somehow, I got the green machine started again away as it stumbled down West Dayton Street in downtown Madison until it nearly died at a stop light. I witnessed some students in a two-story house patio drinking a few frosties and asked if I could park my green-ess at their house, and they obliged, setting in motion a delirious late Saturday and Sunday.

The car wouldn't start (this time, for real) after the evening Wisconsin hockey game and here I was hanging with a bunch of incredibly friendly, but very liquored Badger students, hoping to get to Green Bay for a Packers-Vikings game in less than 12 hours. Rent a car? Maybe, but instead, a trio of Wisconsin students hailing from Minnesota partying at this house decided they were Lambeau Field bound in their car with me as their designated driver. One, let's call him "Dan the Man," even allegedly text-messaged his mother, telling the packed house that she replied "and said, it's ok!" Oh, how sweet! What a good boy! After another four hours of sleep, by 7 a.m. Sunday, I was bound for Green Bay with three Wisconsin students I had met only hours earlier.

I drove. They slept. We arrived.

I made it to Lambeau and inside the 50-year-old haunt, thanks to a press pass. Each of my new-found friends weren't as lucky, unable to fork over the $175 asking price on the street. But, being they were all Vikings fans from Minnesota, perhaps its best they didn't spend a dime. Brett Favre and the Pack shutout the rival Vikes, 34-0.

Still, the pre-game, in-game and post-game atmosphere of Lambeau was unlike anything I have experienced before on the NFL circuit, with unbelievably passionate fans wearing their loyalty - literally on their heads. Lambeau was everything it was cracked to be and more - a historic venue marking its 50th anniversary with perhaps another Super Bowl bound team.

Post-game, I was bound back for Madison, with the trio who had viewed the rout in a bar across the street from "The Frozen Tundra." By 10 p.m., I had a plan to get my car looked at by a diesel-engine mechanic Monday morning. Beyond that, I simply basked in the amazement of the ultimate Saturday college-Sunday NFL fantasy football weekend taking place within the confines of the same state.

I would really like to thank the following kick-ass Wisconsin students and others for their awesome hospitality during my time in Dairyland: Doc Sports for the tickets, Ben from Maryland, and the gang on West Dayton Street and their clan - Adam, Mark, Greta, Zach, Dan and if I missed somebody, you know who you are, thanks so much!!

Update: Zimerick European in Madison fixed my fuel problem Monday, and I made it to Notre Dame for their men's hoops home opener in South Bend Monday night, in which the Irish won. Just another wild few days on the road. Only in America.