There was something strange about watching the Sports Review of the Year from the press lounge.
Situated next to the main auditorium, with only a heavy duty curtain and makeshift wall separating us from 8000 guests, it was a bizarre experience watching the event unfold on TV with a handful of other journalists. We could hear you, but we couldn't see you.
It was a fascinating insight and a memorable night.
Sir Bobby Robson, incredibly emotional following his rousing reception and lifetime award, still speaks with passion about football. Those fires which made him England's finest manager since Sir Alf Ramsay still burn fiercely. Ravaged by illness, yet he still maintains a level of dignity and immense pride with his reception. He shouldn't be surprised by the standing ovation - fans of all ages, media, players and managers hold Sir Bobby with the highest esteem. Aside from his England spell, he remains the nation's finest managerial export - coaching at Barcelona, PSV Eindhoven and Porto. He's only just officially retired and already it seems like football is desperately missing him.
Full marks to Sir Alex Ferguson for breaking off his dispute with the Beeb to present Sir Bobby with his award. It was a scene which will live on long beyond any other moment from the night.
Sir Bobby later approached Lewis Hamilton in the press room to wish him all the best for the future. It was a touching moment between two heroes - one who has already made his mark on the sporting world, another who is doing so.
Lewis, for his part, isn't tall. For a man who spends several hours every other weekend, from March to November, throwing several hundred horsepower of machinery around, he doesn't half look composed and calm. It's hard to imagine his frame can cope with the kind of G forces needed to control an F1 car. It's hard to believe he's only in his early 20s and about to start his second year of Formula One (it took Mansell five to win his first Grand Prix, 12 to win the World Championship, while Damon Hill wasn't an F1 rookie until he was 32).
Mind you, if the awards ever return to the NEC then someone ought to think about better signposting. I walked out of the press centre with a radio colleague, about one hour after the show had finished, to find Sir Clive Woodward walking around in a daze, trying to find his way out of the building. Makes winning the rugby World Cup seem like a doddle...