TORONTO — It was cold and windy Saturday night as darkness descended on Exhibition Stadium. Close to 70,000 fans stood cheering as the legendary rock band, The Who, brought its lengthy and exciting concert to a fitting close.

The band had played hard for over two hours, including a climactic encore set of old favorites, and the well-known and well-loved members gathered without instruments to take their final bows and mumble some final farewells.

“We love ya,” said guitarist Pete Townshend, “see ya real soon.”

It was a fairly standard parting comment, especially for someone showing appreciation that so many would endure so much just to see and hear the band.

But this is supposed to be the band’s farewell tour and as such, its last show in Toronto. And it may have been reflex action on Townshend’s part, as he certainly sounded like he meant it, with particular emphasis on the “real soon.”

How soon?

How about December. Original plans called for the band to play a final concert at Maple Leaf Gardens on Dec. 16 with live simulcasts to other cities much as the Rolling Stones did in Hampton, Virginia.

Don’t be surprised if it happens to work out much like it was originally planned.

So why submit more than 65,000 fans to some of the worst conditions for attending a rock concert? How else can you play to so many — and gross so much — in one day.

As set up Saturday, Exhibition Stadium was far from ideal. The massive stage formed a horseshoe with the two main grandstands forming the arms on each side and the stage facing the open end. Thus the band was forced to play to the thousands crammed dangerously tightly together at field level while those with reserved seating on each side were left with poor sightlines and uneven sound that frequently left most words undecipherable.

At field level, the sight and sound levels were better but the choices quite limited: risk being crushed anywhere within 50 or 60 yards of the stage or stand on tip toes and use binoculars from even further back.

Throw in a constant, bone-chilling wind, and it really became difficult to focus on any intensity or consistency with what was being offered.

After opening act Joe Jackson’s set was sabotaged and cut short by an undeserved constant shower of debris, the Who took to the stage 15 minutes ahead of time and rushed through three quick classics — My Generation, Can’t Explain and Substitute. The performance was so quick and perfunctory, one can only assume it was an attempt at getting the introductions out of the way quickly — a way to let those at the far end of the stadium know that these thumb-sized figures on the distant stage were indeed members of the headline act.

Looking rather clean-cut and spiffy with his short blonde hair and large light-blue sportscoat, lead singer (glamor boy-sex symbol) Roger Daltrey wasted little time in unleashing his trademark trick, whipping the microphone and cord about like some speed-crazed slingshot.

With his teddy boy haircut, loose leather jacket and baggy pinstriped trousers, Townshend actually looked in rougher shape then before he cleaned up his alcohol problem. At times he almost looked unsure of himself, as if he was learning his stage moves all over again. But this guitar hero responded with some his trademarks as well — windmill chording and rough approximations of once-famous leaps.

Both became instant cues for massive cheering and, coupled with the crowd’s tendency to actively cheer only the best-known favorites, added to the nagging feeling that here was a crowd applauding what once was rather than what was being done right then and there.

Bassist John Entwhistle was as stoic as ever, looking dapper in tan leather jacket, tight trousers and high-heeled boots. It was his birthday, allegedly his 38th, but he looked considerably older than his more likely true age of around 40 or 41. He helped sing his new song Dangerous but looked anything but dangerous.

In fact the entire band seemed tamed by the elements and environment.

The real cause for concern was the dangerous crush of bodies at the foot of the stage. The crowd here was so tightly packed and unable to move in any direction that those in trouble literally crawled across a solid sea of heads and shoulders to the safety of the security people who were constantly hauling out bodies like rescuers battling a human quicksand.

Fear flickered across Daltrey’s face as he no doubt recalled the senselessness of 11 Who fans crushed to death in Cincinnati and he and Townshend took turns encouraging the crowd to move back for its own safety.

The band mixed older material (Goodbye Sister Disco) and newer material (It’s Hard) with only moderate success. The playing was strong but a touch too perfunctory and the wind frequently robbed the sound of much power or strength.

… and so does Roger Daltrey

Even a strong rendition of Eminence Front, one of the better songs on the band’s new album, failed to captivate the majority of the crowd still busy just being there.

Things picked up considerably with two instantly familiar classics — Behind Blue Eyes and Baba O’Riley. For the latter, nearly everyone joined the band in screaming out the legendary lines about teenage wasteland, climaxing with: “They’re all wasted.”

They weren’t but some were and many more were willing to pretend. Many exaggerated their degree of incapacitation (by drugs or alcohol) to help celebrate the event but it was a tamer crowd than the Rolling Stones attract.

Still medical and security forces were kept busy dealing with the standard problems. About 40 people were treated for cuts, sprains and alcohol-related problems. Twentynine people were arrested on drug and/or alcohol-related charges but only one person was arrested for assault.

As darkness and the temperatures continued to fall, the stage lights came on and Daltrey and Townshend stripped down for battle. Just watching the wind whip and billow their short-sleeved shirts made one feel even colder back in the stands.

At any concert this size, there’s a certain detachment that only the broadest gestures can bridge. Thus lesser-known tunes brought mostly mild response and it wasn’t until the band whipped into some universal favorites — Who Are You, Pinball Wizard, See Me, Hear Me Feel Me and Long Live Rock — that the entire crowd was united in a thundering response, fists punching the air and screams of delight tearing forth from tortured lungs.

The band climaxed in a blaze of lights with perhaps it’s most crowd-pleasing anthem, Won’t Get Fooled Again.

The eventual encore consisted of Athena from the new album and two old classics, Magic Bus and Summertime Blues with the crowd joining in loudly on all three.

And standing with close to 70,000 equally excited souls, one had to admit that stadium concerts may be an abomination but it’s sure great to see a band like The Who in action again.

It wasn’t a definitive Who performance though the band played extremely well with drummer Kenny Jones being particularly effective and exciting.

It wasn’t quite the event a Stones stadium show can be but then it was a lot more consistent than anything the Stones manage in that other wind tunnel of a stadium outside Buffalo.

And even with so much of the power dissipated by the strong, steady wind blowing right into the performers’ faces, it was still some of the greatest rock ever recorded.

— CP photos Pete Townshend gets kicks…

Joe Jackson leaves early in hail of audience debris

TORONTO — Opening for The Who Saturday in front of close to 70,000 people at Exhibition Stadium was certainly no picnic for Joe Jackson and his new band.

Ironically, not so long ago at this very same stadium, another band — Joan Jett and The Blackhearts — encountered a similar fate for a similar reason.

Both were probably the right bands at the right place but at the wrong time.

Jackson’s more intelligent, multifacted style of music would probably gone over quite well with a crowd sensitive enough to appreciate the music offered at the last Police Picnic — the more modern sounds of the Police, Talking Heads and A Flock Of Seagulls.

Jett’s brand of simplistic heavy rock would probably have gone over quite well with the impatient boors at the Who concert who eventually drove Jackson and company off stage just 40 minutes into a opening set that could have run a full hour or more.

The pity was Jackson and company were performing extremely well to the delight of most in the huge crowd. But down front, the hecklers let loose with debris — crushed drink cups, fresh fruit, hard Frisbees and other assorted missiles.

Jackson played it cool, casually dodging what he could without losing his place in the song. Once while seated sipping beer during an instrumental break, he even hoisted his glass in their direction to salute a near miss.

When the missiles became a threat to the two female musicians in Jackson’s band, he responded verbally: “If you must throw things, okay, just remember I’m the guy that wrote all this stuff so don’t throw things at the ladies, throw them at me.”

Even during a striking a capella rendition of Jackson’s first hit single, Is She Really Going Out With Him, the debris kept coming. So Jackson had the crowd in front raise that rude old one-finger salute so he could take a picture to mark this auspicious occasion.

Shortly after the band left the stage for good, to the delight of some but the dismay of many.

If Jackson and his band play so marvelously under these conditions, one expects tonight’s show at the NAC should be even more stunning.