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Forever Red: Confessions of a Cornhusker Football Fan

So there we were, rumbling south down Highway 77 in our Chevy Impala on our way to a football game, when my dad became my hero and the Nebraska Cornhuskers my team for life. It happened, oddly enough, over the cb radio, the best in-car entertainment in those pre–Game Boy days. The drive to Lincoln from Rosalie, our tiny town of two hundred in the northeast corner of the state, wasn’t exactly jam-packed with excitement. There was the traditional pit stop at the Fremont Dairy Queen to look forward to or maybe even an interlude at the corner café in Wahoo