Tom Cruise and his wife Katie sat in the Real Madrid box as guests of the Beckhams. David is apparently a prized recruit for Scientology . He fits the model. Attractive, rich, talented, and not that smart. Meanwhile across the way, in the Mallorca box, sat Rafael Nadal, who won his third consecutive French Open two weeks earlier. He was there as a football fan supporting his hometown team Mallorca, and like almost everyone else in Spain and the rest of the world, he was rooting against Real Madrid in its bid to win a historic 30th Spanish League title.

The star-studded audience was only part of the drama on display at the Estadio Bernabeu in Madrid this past Sunday. It was soccer, or futbol if you like, at its most theatrical. What else would you expect from Madrid? A few years ago they were the world's best team, the Galacticos, and they still couldn't beat Barcelona for the title. They did manage to make a larger sum of money on jersey sales in that period than MLS will make in the next decade, though. This year Madrid is a decidedly more terrestrial side, but they came in to the last game of the season with their destiny in their own hands after an improbable couple of weeks during which Barca failed to slam the door on its deadly rivals by conceding last minute goals a few weeks in a row.

Of Real Madrid's best players-Robinho, Raul, Guti, Beckham, Reyes, Cannavaro, and Van Nistlerooy-only the Dutchman has escaped boos, benching, and pillory this year. Before Christmas it looked like this season would be the story of Real's descent into hell after a moderately successful run as world's favorite to hate. It also looked like the team would be wholesaled at the end of the year.

Fabio Capella, Don Fabio, who guided AC Milan in their years of supreme dominance, had other ideas. He somehow managed to bring the locker room together, to pique the pride of his veteran soldiers, and to generally psychologically excavate the team with his characteristic combination of wit and guile. In the process he created an aggressive workmanlike side not unlike his Milan teams and it only had to win one more game to bring Real Madrid a record 30th league title.

Still, the wholesaling had already begun in concept before Madrid began playing well. And going into this final game, Real legends Roberto Carlos, David Beckham, Jose Antonio Reyes, and Michel Salgado already had their walking papers. You can imagine the twisted set of emotions in the locker room before this match.

To add to the internal drama, consider that Sunday fell into the two week preparation period for the upcoming FIFA international matchdays. I don't know if that's because no one looked at the schedule last year or because the Spanish don't really care about the schedule, but the upshot was that if the rules had held, Real Madrid would have had to play without Diarra (Mali) and Reyes (Argentina). Capella, who knows his team well, refused to play without Diarra and appealed to FIFA for an exception. For his part, Diarra, an African patriot and a hero to his countrymen, hoped against the appeal because he wanted to play for Mali in its qualifier. FIFA, ever-politic, decided Diarra was needed in Madrid. A series of dispensations was subsequently granted to a bunch of other players, including the Brazilians at Barcelona and Madrid, and the Cameroonian Eto'o, who complained that the decision was racist.

All of that happened before the game started. The result was that three of Madrid's starting players won't be there next year and one other, Diarrra, didn't want to be there at all. But the team was particularly outspoken, in its soul-less press-savvy fashion, about its unity in intent to win La Liga.

On the other side of the ball, there were reports that the Mallorca players stood to gain upwards of $4 million in cash gifts for beating Madrid and handing the championship to Barcelona. That amount of money, for a club that size, is enough to ensure that the players will play pretty hard.

Barcelona kicked off at exactly the same time across the country, knowing it had to have a better result against Gimnastic than Madrid had against Mallorcato win its third consecutive league crown and confirm its dynastic tendencies.

The Madrid game started with an intense barrage from the hometown heroes. Barcelona scored after fifteen minutes to go ahead in its game, though, and Madrid was still empty-handed. A few minutes later, Cannavaro fell asleep and kept the through-running Varela onside. He slotted home the finish on the play he started and things were looking pretty nervy for Real Madrid. Cappella looked unmoved though. He'd seen his boys come back from deficits before. The Madrid players looked resolute. Still, the auguring was all wrong. Van Nistlerooy, their best scorer who could have won Europe's Golden Boot with two goals, went out with a hamstring pull. Higuain replaced.

Halftime came and Barca was ahead 2-0 t and Madrid behind 1-0. Barca was having a measured party and Madrid was sweating bullets.

In the second half Madrid kept the pressure on Mallorca. Most of the quality play went through Robinho on the left wing. He was aggressive, cutting inside for crosses and shots, keeping the defenders on their back heels. Beckham had his chances, hitting the upright with a free kick and narrowly missing heads on a few crosses, but he ultimately looked very human, and a little slow.

Barcelona was putting on a show against Gimnastic. Messi was an absolute terror. Ronaldinho bent in a free kick. It was 4-0 in the Nou Camp and Real Madrid still had no goals to show for its effort when Reyes replaced Beckham an hour into the game. Nunes, Mallorca's best central defender, came off with an injury, and that may have proved the turning point in the game.

Real struck to even the score in the 68th minute after terrific work from Robinho, who used his exquisite balance and ball control, to walk past defenders to the corner and then work his way back up to the corner of the 18-yd box, where he slipped Higuain. Higuain collected niftily and walked past his defender to the line before angling a precise ball back into the path of Reyes, who side-footed first time through a narrow gap into the back of the net. 1-1. For all of Barca's good work, Madrid was only a goal away from the title again.

Just over ten minute's later Diarra rose up very bravely and crushed an awkward header that went off the keeper, off the post defender, and into the net. The replay showed how high he jumped, how bravely he exposed his head, how much he wanted the ball, and how badly Mallorca needed Nunes. 2-1 Real Madrid and the Bernabeu began to go crazy.

Tom Cruise kissed Katie awkwardly. It's true that she might be a prisoner. Nadal shook his head with a bemused smile. Too bad, ya know? And the Ultras fought the police in their violent ecstasy. It's funny to see the celebs at a football match. Especially Tom Cruise. It all looks so freakin staged. Ray Hudson had a vein popping out of his forehead. Don't talk to me about actors, he cried. This is about the gladiators down on the field.

In the 83rd minute Reyes ensured victory with his second goal after he nearly killed a Mallorca player in a challenge up the field. The party began. Barca could not enjoy its 5-1 demolition of relegated Gimnastic. If they had managed that performance against Betis two weeks earlier it would have been their day.

It's hard to argue that Barca was not the better of the two teams. And it's hard to root for Madrid, a team that didn't even believe in itself enough to keep its players together. It's hard to root for Madrid anyway, Franco's team, the team with the most money, with the worst behavior, and the most cynical attitude.

But they won. Becks won too. There's something about Becks isn't there? In spite of all the bullshit around him and all of his stupid decisions, you have to root for him the way you rooted for Roy of the Wanderers.

What is the champion's reward? Becks gets dinner with Tom and Katie and a magic box to clean his soul. Roberto Carlos gets sent to Turkey. Salgado gets to retire. Reyes goes to Italy perhaps. And Don Fabio retreats to the cave where he lives in domestic partnership with Phil Jackson.

Some of them, Diarra, Robinho, Ruud, will come back next year to try to deal with Barca, maybe with Henry in Eto'o's shoes and a Lionel Messi poised to become the best player in the world. Can't wait.