Death Of A Cult Beverage

The folks at MillerCoors knew that they were on to a good thing when they purchased Sparks among other drinks in 2006 from the McKenzie River Corporation: they paid $215 million dollars. Since then, Sparks has cornered 90 percent of the alcopop market, a family of beverages that has come under fierce scrutiny for allegedly marketing to teenagers who aren't old enough to drink. I suppose that's a valid point, considering that even several of my co-workers didn't know Sparks contained alcohol. Scientists have also argued that mixing a downer (alcohol) with an upper (caffeine) can send your heart rate on a rollercoaster ride (all while your mind rattles with the question "How drunk am I?"). And research conducted at Wake Forest University found that students who mixed both ingredients—as in, vodka and Red Bull—were more injury-prone than those who stuck to straight alcohol.

Despite this slander—as I'll call it—Sparks, and beverages like it, had been approved by the federal regulating authorities several times, overcoming criticism of the way they were formulated, labeled, marketed and sold. In the eyes of the government, this glorious nectar was good to go. But unfortunately, that didn't stop more than a dozen state attorney generals from initiating lawsuits this year. Nearly all of them mentioned that teachers didn't know that the students drinking Sparks in their class were not just drinking another energy drink.

As an adult of consenting age, I say the kids are ruining all the fun. And while I recognize that underage drinking is a serious problem, Sparks clearly noted its alcoholic content (6 percent alcohol by volume) on its wonderfully metallic cans. In the end, authorities won out and MillerCoors chose to "reformulate" the beverage (removing the uppers) in an agreement reached on Thursday. In short, I'll lose my stimulant-filled Saturday evenings, and the corporation will pay $550,000 to the 13 states that challenged it, as well as the city of San Francisco.

So goodbye, Sparks. I'll miss side effects like orange tongue (which, I admit, was a low point) and I'll miss introducing you to people who aren't yet familiar with you, only to have them argue that you taste gross and made me look homeless. I'll miss staying up late and not needing naps. And I'll miss the convenience of buying just one beverage—sans mixers—at the convenience store. When it comes down to it, I'm sure that I have other options. I could hark back a few years, when Red Bull and vodka was all the rage. I'm less interested, though, because the reason I like you, Sparks, is that you're not hard liquor; you're hard beer. I guess this is the end. Goodbye, fun, and goodbye, laughter.

We have until Jan. 10 before the good old caffeinated Sparks disappears entirely from the shelves. So if you haven't tasted its succulent sweetness, or you've always wondered what you'd look like with orange teeth, go stock up. Though if you live in New York, you'll have to beat me there. Because just the thought of a weekend without Sparks puts me to sleep.

© 2008