Sober Second Thoughts: Nothing Fake about it

So the team with the worst name in the history of professional sports (he says without hyperbole. Seriously) are champions. It's a shame, really, that my lead refers to the stupidity of pretending to be a 107 year old club from Spain that has been honoured by the King with the Real distinction, when you are actually a 5-year-old MLS expansion team in Utah. But, the reality is that many people the world over will wake up today and go "What was that team Beckham lost to? What? Real Salt Lake. You're kidding, right? Good God, never mind."

So here we are. Ignoring the championship run and instead focusing on the name. Get over yourself Duane, many might be muttering. Fine. Fair enough. The game, then:

It was good, I thought. The First half a bit dull, with LA playing its "make 'em look ugly and grab a goal" style that has served them so well all year. And when Mr. McGee tapped home that sitter late in the first half all seemed set-up for the perfect Hollywood script -- stars redeemed, underdog becomes hero, Don Garber pees self in excitement, SOCCER, SOCCER, SOCCER SUUUUUNDAY AT THEATRES EVERYWHERE!

But, something happened in the second half. Salt Lake started to play a little football. They took some risks. They broke down LA's midfield, exposing insane gaps to come at the Galaxy wave after wave. Robbie Findley was getting all kids of chances. If he had a little bit better first touch (or if the game wasn't being held on plastic grass) there is no need for extra time or penalties -- Salt Lake wins it going away. The Galaxy just never seemed likely after the first 45. You just knew, somehow, that it would be the No. 8 seed that would be standing in the confetti at the end.

And when Beckham limped his way up to take the first kick you could have been forgiven for thinking Ahhhh...this is the twist. He's missed one like this before, hasn’t he. Those Brits, always blowing penalties. Har Har Har. But, then he hit it, booked his flight to Italy, and we all waited to see how it all would play out.

No one imagined that it would be the other Galaxy star that would choke up the hairball. Landon Donovan had hit 8,769,765 consecutive penalties. He was money. The ball still hasn't landed.

Of course, Salt Lake managed to blow the ensuing chance to clinch the Cup, but the enduring imagine of MLS Cup 2009 will be Landon the MVP becoming Landycakes again. Grant Wahl has the subject for his next book now -- Landon Donovan: Sawker Enigma.

As for SLC: good for them. It's the league's smallest market, Utah hasn’t won anything, pretty much ever and the Mormons are really decent people. When a No. 8 seed wins, it's hard to be overly inspired, but it is what it is and it's no less legitimate than when No. 1 plays No. 2.

They may not ever be royal, but Salt Lake is no longer fake. In the crazy little world that is MLS, their title has to give everyone hope that they are just one bounce away from a magic run of their own. It's just 121 days to we start to find out which teams do.