If there’s one thing I enjoy about being a sports reporter, it’s all the free stuff – especially the food.
With two meal tickets redeemable for a hot dog or bratwurst, unlimited soft drinks and coffee, it’s a cheap college student’s dream. Sure, I have to “work” to earn these amenities, but it’s well worth it.
After two 24 ounce Mountain Dews and two bratwursts smothered in mustard and chopped onions, I was feeling adventurous. Considering I only slept two hours Friday night (really, morning – from 6:30 a.m. until 8:30 a.m.), I decided to go for the free cappuccino.
There were three options: Traverse City Cherry, Hot Chocolate and French Vanilla. While the local appeal of Traverse City Cherry was intriguing, I opted for French Vanilla.
What I didn’t realize, though, is that the French Vanilla cappuccino in the Spartan Stadium press box is merely sugar in liquid form. It tasted like a glazed doughnut, pure sugar, a bucket of Cool Whip and premature heart disease wrapped into one. A single sip was probably enough to send a diabetic into a coma.
Still, though, I needed the caffeine. The Mountain Dew was quickly wearing off under the weight of just two hours of sleep. I trucked on, taking each sugar-infused swig in stride.
I could hardly continue consuming the cappuccino once I neared the end of the cup. My taste buds refused to accommodate my caffeinated companion. Finally, I forced myself to swallow the rest of the drink, only to realize the last portion of the cup was just syrup.
I gagged.
But I was rejuvenated!
Was it the caffeine? Was it the sugar? Was it the fight I had to put up to finish the darn thing? Well, whatever it was, it surely had an effect on me. How do I know this, you ask?
I just wrote an entire blog on cappuccino.
Case in point.
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