There were a few of the Tigers used to come in. There was an older guy “The Sheriff” or “John Boy” as he took to calling himself. Slept rough mostly, used to come in, well on wi whatever concoction they were drinking at the time; it was hairspray mixed wi lemonade for a time. The Sheriff was an old time gang man I was told. The younger guys were Jungle Boy, Gak (who was a conductor on the buses), Podge (my memory is vague about the names) and plenty others. One of them paid for pints once wi a big handful of single shillings, no doubt the takings of someone’s meter. They were a mix of Celtic and Rangers supporters though that never was the cause of trouble. I did see one of them head butt another one day but it was taken in good spirit. There were others there that were into other activities that they talked freely about. Naming no names.
These young Tigers got in a fight one evening wi the bottle works guys; it stretched from one end of the bar to the other. I saw Peter McDermott, who used to hawk the occasional steak pie or bag of apples, hit a guy over the head wi one of the chairs. I saw guys picking glass out their hair, having been hit over the head wi a pint tumbler. Even at the height of the brawl, customers were asking for a replacement pint owing to their table being cowped. I never knew why the fight started, or if there was a winner, but none of us stepped out of the bar to interfere. The police eventually drifted in after things had settled down.
A couple of polis would come in after closing and get a hauf and a hauf pint on the house. Half way through an evening, one of the barmen, who I won’t name, goes off wi the days takings while the manager is playing darts wi the customers. Whit a palaver, the polis arrive and we all get searched, though everybody knoes who done it.
I hardly was back in the Drum since then. I decided to take another degree at Strathclyde and it didn’t fit with student life, just to visit my grandfather there, and around the time of his funeral.
