Promoted as likely to be the mother, or rather, "mammy" of all tribute shows, Gay Byrne's final Late Late was always going to struggle to live up to its billing. After 37 years on air, the finale couldn't but be - even allowing for the appropriate indulgences of the occasion - a nostalgia-fest. And so it proved, but this was Nostalgia Lite, presided over by a Gaybo without gusto.

It began with a kaleidoscope of guests down the years, progressed immediately to a standing ovation and then somehow went rather limp. Even the generally raucous Billy Connolly, via a tribute show's de rigueur satellite-link from LA, couldn't inject the necessary level of fun or buoyancy.

Ageing RTE luminaries - such as Larry Gogan, Mike Murphy, Jimmy Magee - featured prominently. They paid homage, told anecdotes and tried to emphasise a sense of occasion. But still, it all lacked passion and vibrancy. It was as if the week-long prologue to the grand ending had drained the finale itself.

Salman Rushdie, Rosaleen Linehan and Christy Moore, would, at the best of times, make the kind of trinity that only the Late Late Show could fuse into an entertainment greater than the sum of their parts. But on this evening of all evenings, individual acts - though generally adequate in themselves - did not complement each other. There was no chemistry. Death In Venice was showing on Network 2. We were staring at Death In Montrose as the show slipped towards 11.30.

Quite simply, it was too long. The controversial antique chair from a few years back was carried on to a fanfare but more than the chair was looking wooden. Clips of previous controversies reminded you of just how vibrant the Late Late could be in its prime. Then came Val Doonican, smiling and telling anecdotes.

Gaybo always cautioned against presenters believing their own publicity. In fairness to him, he was usually canny enough to heed his own advice. But the overwhelming publicity, generating the popular notion that the final gig would conveniently be the Late Late of all Late Lates (Il Lato di tutti Latti) seemed to overwhelm the actuality. Save for the fact that it was the final bow, this show was scarcely memorable.

Even if the audience had been frothing in their fulsomeness - generating dollops of the soppiest nostalgia - the gig would have had far greater energy. As it was, even the guaranteed sentimentality of playing Memories over footage from past shows didn't quite deliver the expected gush of emotion.

Bono and Larry Mullen appeared at 11.19. Genuine international stars, perhaps past their heyday, but stars nonetheless, they presented Gaybo with a Harley-Davidson for himself. There wasn't, of course, one for everybody in the audience. But even if the extravagance of it all was questionable, it was a slice of genuine showbiz excess, conspiciously lacking from most of the evening.

Sarah Brightman opened up part five of the marathon with Time To Say Goodnight. This pumped up the nostalgia quotient, a fact recognised by Gaybo himself, who enthusiastically praised the performance. Then came President McAleese. Schooled now in a world in which tone is often more crucial than content, she paid homage to Gay with the kind of forceful but homely tribute which the show's predominantly middle-Ireland audience had tuned in to hear.

The finale's finale saw Joe Duffy - appearing, as a result, to be the Gaybo's anointed successor - interview the Great Man, who told him about getting "a little warning shot across the bows, healthwise". Byrne proved to be a better interviewee than most of his guests, stressing, as he has often done, the insecurity of being in showbiz. Only five to eight years ago, did he begin to feel financially secure, he said.

He did however agree, as has been known but not previously confirmed, that he was instructed by the then Director of Programmes not to shake hands with Gerry Adams. He disagreed though with Duffy's suggestion that he had treated Annie Murphy improperly and rightly lampooned the notion that he had "destroyed" Charlie Haughey, a man who needed no help in achieving his own downfall.

All that was left then was for Taoiseach Bertie Ahern to supply the Government imprimatur to the farewell before Kathleen Watkins appeared beside her husband. Like the rest, Bertie recalled watching early Late Lates, praised Gay Byrne for charity work and told us he was off to Wembley later today.

And so, we have seen Gay Byrne's lap of honour. The future of the show is now in the lap of those public service broadcasting bosses, who, like true marketeers, see a brand name as the route to success. The real climax happened last week, reminding you that even a favourite uncle sometimes has to take his leave quietly. Good night and God bless, Gaybo - the man whose fame proved the power of the television age. It was a dignified if undramatic exit.