I remember going up to Carlisle for a league match circa 1974. The entertainment began in the Manchester Arms near Vicky station, a place I won't try to describe as the oldies remember it and the youngsters would never believe it.
On the way back, a lad was playing 'The Sash My Father Wore' using a table as a drum until a copper stopped him. The party broke up with a rousing chorus of 'I want a wee, wee, mammy,' by hundreds of throats as we walked through Victoria to go our various ways.
The actual match was shite.