According to the official figures, there were 3,681 people inside Rodney Parade last Saturday. Only 167 were Carlisle supporters, meaning the Newport contingent weighed in at 95.5 per cent of the attendance.

That is a strong proportion of supporters with whom to celebrate should you, as the home side, score a last-minute winner. You pretty much have your pick of the ground.

All that joy to share. And with whom did Newport’s players share it? The 4.5 per cent.

Now, this is not to take a giant brush, lift the rug and sweep beneath it any of the unpleasant scenes that involved people who were not on the pitch when George Nurse scored his 96th-minute goal. It should be possible for the ball to hit the net in any situation without blows being traded between fans and stewards.

Whether some United fans were too vigorous in their behaviour, or those charged with keeping order also went in too keenly, it should never get that far. Emotions can run high, tensions can fray, impulse can momentarily take charge – but come on. It was a goal, so what? We should all be able to take it.

At the same time, though: whatever happened to celebrating with your own? Why not go for that, instead of making a beeline to the opposition?

When did players’ instincts shift in the direction of provocation. and gloating, rather than simply the joy of a moment?

Newport’s winner, if you were in the home numbers, was one of those football happenings that pushes you to the furthest edges of elation. It was as unexpected as it was spectacular, and few of us watching could have known how it felt to spank one into the top corner to win a game at that level. Even Nurse didn’t, until that point: it was the 20-year-old Bristol City loanee’s first EFL goal. Not many would remain entirely controlled at such a time.

Initially it seemed like only delirious momentum took him and his capering team-mates in that direction of the pitch, rather than a wish to goad. Once there, though, there was a knee-slide and arms-outstretched pose in front of the United fans.

Others in amber galloped towards the Carlisle travellers, Josh Sheehan in particular bouncing their way, facing them as he roared. It is this, it seems, which preceded the converging of stewards at the front of the stand and some Cumbrians appearing to get violently embroiled.

Again: the blame game is tiresome. But also again: why even go there in the first place? Unless something in particular had been said or aimed from those seats to Mike Flynn’s players during the game’s long goalless period – and nothing anecdotally has emerged as yet – why this wish to mock the vanquished?

Is it not a bit, well, small?

There are no doubt examples of Carlisle players doing similar, let’s not pretend otherwise. There are also, naturally, times when supporters, having given it out, have to take it. Often the balance seems weighted in favour of those abusing from the safety of numbers, and the moment a targeted player responds, outrage is unconfined.

Infamously, Emmanuel Adebayor bounded the length of the pitch at Manchester City upon scoring against Arsenal in 2009. As he posed in front of the livid away end, plastic chairs and all sorts rained onto the pitch.

It was later reported that the striker had been the subject of songs that were derisive, and worse, from some of those behind that goal: claims his mother was a prostitute, for instance. “If you were to abuse a man in the street for over an hour, he would react – and it would be a worse reaction than a goal celebration,” Adebayor later said, not unreasonably.

Still, he had to suck up a £25,000 fine and a suspended two-match ban. An FA commission acknowledged the provocation he had faced, but added players “have a responsibility to conduct themselves in a proper manner and that such celebrations...have the potential to cause a serious public order incident.”

That is the more extreme case. Lower down the scale, we can remember others, such as Brad Potts sliding in front of the Pioneer Stand’s disabled area after scoring for Blackpool at Brunton Park. Earlier, he had been jeered by some home fans. Celebrating that way was stupid, but there was at least small mitigation.

Give it, take it, whatever. A memorable moment from longer ago was of United leaving the pitch after a 2-1 win at Barnet, and Chris Lumsdon making a “going down” gesture to the main home stand. Needle between the Blues and the Bees had been a couple of years in the making. That exchange of views was perfectly understandable.

What United’s supporters had done to Newport’s players is, though, a mystery. On the crowd incident itself, neither club has commented, yet it cannot be wrong to wish such episodes could be avoided, and to ask what can be done by way of prevention.

It comes down, as usual, to individual restraint. There is no basic need or justification for getting out of your seat and making as though you want to lamp an opposing player even when he has just ruined your afternoon.

Nor is there anything useful to be gained by taunting in the first place, when there are no apparent grounds to be retaliating.

Celebration of the week, hands down, was that of Newcastle’s Matty Longstaff, someone else who had brilliantly scored his first professional goal. Everything about his beaming expression in front of thousands of his own fans suggested the fulfilment of a dream and the ecstasy of a moment.

Surely that’s how it should be? Surely, in those seconds, it’s all you would want or need?