My grandfather used to tell me the real luck of the Irish was when a barrel of Guinness sometimes mysteriously fell off the delivery wagon when the driver stopped for a pint at Paddy Burkes Pub.
I'll tell you something which was truly terrifying, and I am in no way condoning drinking and driving, but just recording what used to happen in a different time.
My parents kept a pub in Oxford with the traditional beer cellar and we used to have deliveries from the brewery a couple of times a week.
The draymen would arrive in their lorry early, haul the empty casks up out of the cellar and then roll the full ones down on rails slowing it with a rope. They would all then have 15 minutes break in the bar and it was traditional to give them a couple of pints (drivers included.) They would then go on to their next drop and would, I guess do 6 or 8 more drops.
So two pints at each might mean 12 or 16 pints in a working day, driver included.
It was very hard physical work, so they would burn quite a bit of it off, but even so.