It is true that Ronaldo, at 33, is not the player he was. He is still perfectly sculpted, of course, a Men’s Health magazine cover made flesh, but the electric pace has fizzled a little; he does not cover quite as much ground (only one player, the Portuguese defender José Fonte, ran less than Ronaldo in a first half in which one of them scored twice).

But it is equally true to say that Ronaldo, even in his twilight, shines brighter than almost any player with whom he comes into contact. He has not so much faded as a player as evolved into something different. It is misleading to suggest that he has transformed into a striker, a penalty- area predator, because he is not really restricted by such mortal concepts as geography.

Instead, he has attained a level of such devastating efficiency that he now does not really require something so mundane as the ball. He does not need to be involved. He looks, often, like he is doing nothing, or something quite close to it — as if he is a mere passenger. It is an illusion. He is always in the cockpit.

Isco, his Real Madrid teammate, was the dominant player on the field here, the one who was most involved, who prompted and probed and prodded, and he was wearing a Spain jersey. Ronaldo has moved beyond needing to dictate games. He concerns himself only with defining them.

His free kick, needless to say, curled artfully, effortlessly, past De Gea and into the corner of Spain’s goal, as Ronaldo — despite all historical evidence to the contrary — must have known it would.

Portugal, which is now best thought of as a nation established in 1128 so that it might one day produce Cristiano Ronaldo, would have its draw. More important, the 2018 World Cup had its spark. The afterglow of a game like this can last for a couple of weeks, at least; on this stage, it can resonate around the world.