When the Adventures of the Green Machine last left you, the machine and me somehow managed to make it to Wisconsin. From there, with return fuel lines patched up, it was  back east with the anticipation of a Saturday visit to Florida State and a Sunday stop in Atlanta to see the Michael Vick-less Falcons.

Anticipation, however, isn’t reality, and when it rains, it pours.

After having new glow plugs installed, my return fuel lines fixed and a new water pump added, I figured that had to be the end of my maintenance issues. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Last Thursday evening, following a Maryland basketball game, I noticed I had virtually no power when I pressed the accelerator when the light turned green at a stop. The next morning, reality set in when the car just flat out died in the middle of a residential street.

I would be taking a rain check on Florida State and the Falcons because the Green Machine would be spending its weekend in the cozy environs of a Washington, DC area Mercedes-Benz dealer, its troubles not to be examined until Monday.

Fortunately, my awesome Aunt, Uncle and cousins live in the area, so I would have free shelter and more. So as down and depressed as I was last Friday night, I realized I could have been in a far worse place and decided I should make the most of my weekend in the environs of our Nation’s Capitol.

First stop: the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, about 40 miles outside Washington, where the Midshipmen were welcoming Northern Illinois for their final football home game this season. My awesome cousin, Katherine, loaned me her VW Passat for the day and I was off on another yet adventure.

The Internet is a beautiful thing, and I wisely researched before my arrival in Annapolis that parking around Navy-Marine Corps Stadium was atrocious, and was advised to park off-site and utilize a free shuttle service. It was a good call because not only did I secure free parking and a free shuttle bus ride to the game, but I also managed to get invited to a tailgate party of former Navy and Marines, of which one of the former servicemen loaned me a free ticket. God love Navy, and the Marines, and America!

One of the great Navy football traditions is the “March In,” where all the Midshipmen and Midshipwomen parade into the stadium in their uniforms. Navy-Marine Corps Stadium is also the only venue in the world where you are guaranteed to see a Blue Angel aircraft parked out front, plus a really cool flyover before every single game.

It was a brisk, but sunny mid-November Saturday, and the fans applauded as Navy jumped out to an early lead on visiting Northern Illinois. What I admired most about my experience at Navy was how all of its great, worldwide missions over the past century are displayed on the stadium façade like “Desert Storm,” “Iwo Jiwa” and “Pearl Harbor.” Nowhere on the façade or elsewhere in the stadium were the words “Staubach,” for former Navy quarterback and Heisman Trophy Winner, Roger Staubach.

The reasoning need not be explained: individual sporting achievements, while impressive, are not as important as team efforts, and sports is not nearly as important as the Navy’s most vital missions of helping to maintain peace and security at home and abroad.  

Navy held on for the victory, giving them a 7-4 mark and a ticket to San Diego for the Poinsettia Bowl, Dec. 20. But the Mids next big game is Dec. 1 against their arch-rival, Army, in Baltimore. I hope to be there, but well, one week at a time, kids.

On Sunday, I was in a DC college basketball state of mind, and I took in games at American University by day and George Washington University by night. The latter featured the Colonels hosting top-ranked Rutgers in a women’s hoops tilt broadcast nationally on ESPNU. Only in DC are cheerleaders called “first ladies” and can a mascot hold a striking resemblance to our country’s first president.

Rutgers whooped the Colonels silly, and I took the Metro from DC back to my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Maryland, walking through the neighborhood where my car had died more than 48 hours earlier. As my wristwatch revealed close to Midnight, I didn’t know what the next day would bring. Then again, I’m not taking it one day at a time on this trip, but rather one hour at a time.

By Tuesday, the car was back in business.