Roger Daltrey (left) and bandmates Pete Townshend (right), John Entwistle and drummer Zak Starkey returned for another Who reunion at Nissan Pavilion on Wednesday.

There was a time when teenage boys stood in front of the bedroom mirror emulating Pete Townshend’s windmill flailings and Roger Daltrey’s leonine posing.

God bless rock ’n’ roll for giving them The Who — and for bringing the venerable Brits back to the stage after approximately 673 supposed farewell tours.

There is no reason for the band to retire yet.

Not when Townshend’s zippy fretwork lays waste to any of today’s upstarts, Daltrey’s admirable abs provide their own show and John Entwistle rubs his bass so precisely it speaks.

Factor in relative whippersnapper Zak Starkey (Ringo Starr’s son), whose effortless drumming could make Keith Moon stand up and cheer from the grave, and the realization is complete.

This is why legends are legends.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying myself. It makes me strangely miserable to admit that,” a grinning Townshend begrudgingly announced halfway through The Who’s two-hour-plus set Wednesday at Nissan Pavilion.

So the ol’ dog with the Silly Putty face now worries about breaking his nicotine patch addiction instead of how much cocaine he can inhale. He’s even cooler straight.

And Daltrey, wrapping himself in his microphone cord for the opening “I Can’t Explain,” is the British Bruce Springsteen, snarling and popping neck veins as if his vocal cords were much younger than 54.

Though Daltrey’s range isn’t what it used to be, straining slightly on “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere” and the melancholic “Behind Blue Eyes,” Townshend’s upper register compensated on those cagey high-end melodies.

But while Daltrey commanded the front line, Townshend ruled the show. His shirt half-unbuttoned from the bottom from his frantic playing, Townshend’s arms attacked his guitar like a spinning clock hand, delving into the seesaw chords of “Baba O’Riley” while flashing green lights pulsed to the song’s time changes.

Even the ever-phlegmatic Entwistle, a man on which nothing moves but his fingers, broke his frozen form to introduce the rousing “My Wife.” Later, during an extended “5:15,” Entwistle unleashed a bass solo so thrilling and complex that Townshend was moved to bow at the feet of one of the greatest living players of the instrument.

On this limited tour, which commenced June 25 in Chicago, The Who is sharing road crew and staging with Jimmy Page and the Black Crowes (who performed last night at Nissan). It isn’t ornate — lots of metal scaffolding and a geometrically shaped backdrop — but it sufficed for a show rightly focused on music.

Buoyed by Starkey’s fluid fills and longtime keyboardist John “Rabbit” Bundrick’s swirling Hammond organ, songs such as “Magic Bus” and “You Better You Bet” gushed with snaky energy and riled-up funk grooves not heard from the band in eons.

By the time “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and “My Generation” pounded through and Townshend took a few shaky jumps on worn knees, the mostly boomer crowd was up on its feet, clapping as if it were 1969 again.

And in many of their minds, including the band’s, it was.

* Contact Melissa Ruggieri at (804) 649-6120 or mruggieri@timesdispatch.com