He shows off a paunch as if mocking younger opponents, and further embarrasses them by gliding past with a short burst of speed.
Armed with only an ordinary frame he supports his defenders ably as a midfield shield and then sucks in enough air to pump his legs and offer himself as an option in attack.
His eyes continue to be able to spot teammates near and farther afield, the left foot is wielded like a sorcerer's wand to send lasers to seek them out.
Ryan Giggs is 40 today and he continues to be very much at home at his workplace.
He rarely cuts furrows down the wings these days, against Bayer Leverkusen yesterday he conducted a football lesson operating at the heart of the Manchester United midfield.
He cushioned passes effortlessly and never lost his cool even in the tightest of spaces.
He always seemed to have time to find a teammate.
He hardly wasted a pass, like a puppet master he pulled United's strings and at the end Leverkusen could only stand and admire.
Rooney played the set-up man adroitly, Kagawa was effervescent, but Giggs was United's launchpad as the English champions finally looked like their old selves.
Giggs made his league debut for United on March 2, 1991, and for more than two decades he has lit up football fields not only in Europe but also in Asia and Australia, and in South America, North America and Africa.
He defies belief.
In an era where a powerfully built footballer blessed with pace will almost certainly be the apple of a coach's eye, Giggs' ability to flourish at the highest level of the sport is beautifully unsettling.
At the start of his career he tied the legs of defenders in knots when he tore down the wings.