In a welcome break from the predictable, Welsh boxer Joe Calzaghe was voted the BBC's Sports Personality of the Year last night.

In advance, it was believed that racing driver Lewis Hamilton would sprint to the title in a manner he could not replicate on the track, but Calzaghe, a fitting recipient of the prize, given his decade as reigning world super-middle-weight champion, upstaged the young Englishman, who only came second, with Ricky Hatton third.

"It's a massive honour and to get two boxers in the top three caps a tremendous year for our sport," said Calzaghe. "I can hardly believe the news."

It was a twisty denouement to a festival of flummery and formality. This event has become part of the annual pre-Christmas schedule during the past half century, but perhaps the BBC should consider consigning the format to a retirement home.

Whether in the cheesy orchestral music which greeted the arrival of a string of former stars, or the banal dialogue which poured forth from presenters Sue Barker and Gary Lineker - both of whom could not stop acting as if this was a grand prize-giving ceremony for Middle England - the fare was as stale as a month-old baguette.

Even the entrance of this summer's Wimbledon mixed doubles champions, Jelena Jankovic and Jamie Murray, with the latter's hair resembling an explosion in a bed-spring factory, lived down to expectations. Sue wanted to talk about flirting and love matches, rather than tennis, and Lineker, a maestro of the single entendre, was in his element.

Of course, it hardly helped that the majority of the candidates were neither genuine personalities nor winners in 2007. Jason Robinson and Jonny Wilkinson failed to lift the Rugby World Cup this time; Justin Rose, Andy Murray and Hamilton's best days surely lie ahead, and Paula Radcliffe will have to improve on the New York marathon.

At least, of the remaining nominees, Calzaghe, James Toseland, Hatton and Christine Ohuruogu could claim to have achieved world excellence this year (This rather begged the question of why Dario Franchitti and Victoria Pendleton were ignored).

But it was all too typical of the BBC's desperation for a sporting twist on the X Factor that they had no sooner wheeled out Toseland than he was asked to belt out some boogie-woogie music on the piano.

At 20.12, Hamilton strode on to the stage and the audience responded appreciatively, possibly tickled that the F1 wunderkind had bothered to travel from his tax haven in Switzerland.

But the chat refused to transcend the mundane and far too much time was subsequently spent in the company of such charisma-free zones as Tim Henman and Damon Hill.

In other circumstances, Hatton's chat with the Sugary Two might have raised the bar, but Floyd Mayweather seemed to have quenched his spirit, so much so that Calzaghe's fond description of his dad, Enzo, as a "pain in the arse", prior to the latter being crowned Coach of the Year, was one of the rare instances when the proceedings induced a lump in the throat.

It only remained for Boris Becker to collect Roger Federer's trophy for Overseas Sports Personality and for Lineker to indulge in some casual xenophobia, as the prelude to Sir Bobby Robson receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award and being praised to the skies by Sir Alex Ferguson (the first sign of glasnost between the Scot and the BBC?), before the night climaxed with what the guests had come to see.

Yes, straight from Strictly Come Dancing, the sight of Mark Ramprakash and Karen Hardie, sashaying to Booker T and the MGs. The programme lasted for two hours. It felt like an eternity.