O'Leary's babies had not, yet, dug into and ground out one of their Champions League matches. Travelling, working and getting the result were signs of maturity as long as you remember that growing up is boring.
Leeds were the winners by so much that the second half was a drift. Elland Road needed what it got: six goals and a random meltdown.
After being turned by Alan Smith and pulling him down by his shirt, Paolo Maldini had to take a wet booking while wearing a face of utter embarrassment. After United's chastening week it was a welcome sign.
Step one is Alan Smith kicking Rivaldo. Step two is Olivier Dacourt kicking Rivaldo. Step three is Rivaldo is orchestrating a move, swerving around Duberry and shooting past Martyn. The game isn't ten minutes old.
The symbol of it all was Nigel Martyn, saving shots, catching crosses, and submitting himself to Leeds United's permanent pictorial history by failing to notice when his head was cut at the feet of apologetic Bernhard Winkler.
The main show came from Costas Kapitanis. The Champions League had been the Peacocks' aim for a decade, or three, and achieving it meant remembering the bad times Leeds had in Europe in the 1970s.