They came in big numbers — 17-18,000 — waving Union Jacks, chanting "Whoooo, Whoooo," and saluting the storied English musicians with banners that read: "The Who Keep Rocking The World" and "The Who: Long Live Rock." And through it all, most everybody on the floor and lower levels stayed on their feet — a two-hour standing ovation.

Even though it was a tardy sellout — the last ticket was sold just hours before showtime — this, to many, was the biggest, certainly the most historic, rock 'n' roll show ever to come to the Birmingham-Jefferson Civic Center Coliseum.

It was a classic. The classic.

There've been better shows here before, and maybe larger crowds, but never an event of this magnitude: The Who, together since the '60s, making what is billed to be its last road trip.

ON THE SURFACE, at least, The Who come across as a band you come not so much to hear, but to see, and be mesmerized:

7 Vocalist Roger Daltrey 6 wearing tight jeans, sleeveless shirt and thick, golden locks 6 using his microphone chord like a lasso, whipping it with propeller-like intensity.

7 Guitarist Pete Townshend winding up his windmill guitar stroke, bouncing off the floor and kicking both legs.

7 Bright, bright lights erupting from the floor to bathe the ceiling with revolving white circles, while smaller bulbs beam their greens, reds, yellows and blues around the room.

But that's just a first impression. For all the theatrics, this was still a concert. To be heard, not seen.

THE SOUND WAS crisp, tight and 6 in typical Who fashion 6 as loud as the lights were bright.

The youth anthem "My Generation" was first out of the blocks, followed by recent cuts from the It's Hard album and old Who gems like "Love Reign O'er Me," "Long Live Rock," "Pinball Wizard" and "Won't Get Fooled Again."

The show moved like clockwork 6 starting promptly at 9:30 (after a mundane opening act called the Rockets) and finishing two hours to the minute later.

Although it followed a well-rehearsed script, it still had an electric spontaneity.

Like when bassist John Entwistle, who stood back most of the night and let Daltrey and Townshend take command, stepped forward at the end and spat out the vocals to The Beatles' "Twist and Shout." (The Who ending on a Beatles' tune?)

DURING THAT FINAL ENCORE, a team of floor patrons spelled out "Smash It, Pete" with hand-held placards 6 referring to Townshend's old habit of smashing his guitar at the end of a show.

When Entwistle finished off "Twist and Shout," and the night was done, Townshend obliged, but with a gentler touch than in the younger days. Although the wallop on the stage floor may have bruised his black Telecaster, it certainly wasn't smashing.

But the rest of the night surely was.