Bisciotti had just accepted the trophy from former player O.J. Brigance, whose fight against ALS has inspired the Ravens organization. As the king whose army had conquered the enemy's field, he could have basked in a nation's gaze.
Bisciotti thanked Brigance and Bob Kraft, owner of the vanquished Patriots, then said: "I'm just speechless. I'm going to let [coach] John [Harbaugh] talk about these players. It's just special."
And that was that.
"The public Steve is so consistent with the private Steve," says Bisciotti's friend and adviser Ron Shapiro. "He's always talking about others. As excited as he is, I have heard him use the word 'I' so infrequently in the last few weeks."
There's little question that Bisciotti, 52, is relishing his first run to the Super Bowl as the Ravens' principal owner, say friends and team executives. It's the culmination of so much that he's done, from signing long-term deals with the team's key players to selecting the unsung Harbaugh as his coach. The ride is even sweeter because of the ending it will give the retiring Ray Lewis, to whom the owner has grown close.
In his 13 years as minority and then majority owner of the Ravens, he has rarely granted more than a few interviews a year. As the media glare turns toward him in the days leading up to the Super Bowl in New Orleans, those who know him say they would be shocked if the bright lights brought out a flashier, more self-aggrandizing Bisciotti.
"I've seen that man change less as his star has risen than almost any other figure I've been around," says Shapiro, a longtime Baltimore sports agent who has worked with Cal Ripken and other Hall-of-Famers.
Bisciotti, with a net worth of $1.6 billion according to Forbes, built his fortune in near anonymity, never leaving his hometown of Severna Park. He has filled his box at M&T Bank Stadium with family and close friends rather than starlets and tycoons, and he regularly asks television producers not to train their cameras on him during games.
He is often described as one of the best owners in the NFL in large part because he doesn't assert his personality or opinions over those of Harbaugh or general manager Ozzie Newsome.
"No. 1, he is a very humble person," Newsome says. "He's not afraid to challenge the issues, but he's a very good listener. … He enjoys it, but he also believes one thing — that he hires people to do their job. Let them do their job."
With the seconds ticking down on the Ravens' win over the Patriots, Bisciotti really did seem as happy for Harbaugh and Newsome as for himself, says team president Dick Cass, who has run the organization's business side since 2004.
"He just appreciates how hard they work and how hard it is to win even one game in the NFL," says Cass, who sat beside Bisciotti during the AFC championship. "But he's enjoying this tremendously. It's really a validation of how he's run the team."
'The right way'
Bisciotti is a local guy through and through. As kids, he and his siblings collected autographs from Baltimore Colts players at the team's training camp in Westminster. He graduated from Severna Park High School and what is now Salisbury University, a C student who nonetheless learned a work ethic from his mother, a young widow raising a family of four.
He and his cousin, Jim Davis, started their company, Aerotek, from the basement of an Annapolis townhouse and built it into one of the world's largest private staffing firms.
Though Bisciotti was a low-key success story, barely written about even in local publications, he was thrilled when his wealth allowed him to buy a 49-percent stake in the Ravens, one of the area's most cherished public institutions. He began a four-year apprenticeship under the late Art Modell, one of the league's most experienced owners. And Bisciotti consciously remained in the background as the Ravens delivered Modell his first and only Super Bowl victory in 2001.
"He said, 'I will not take any part of the stage from Art,' " Shapiro recalls. "So he was really restraining himself at a time of great excitement."