Yet more cruelty on Ipswich, for whom Premier League reality once again bit brutally. Belief can only be bruised by repeated reverses and bitter blows such as Bournemouth’s late equaliser through Enes Unal and then Dango Ouattara’s winner, the latter coming five minutes beyond the 90.

The ride to get to the Premier League was the fun part. Perhaps these expe­riences will curb the ­idealism of Kieran McKenna’s approach. His side’s latest late collapse suggests something needs to change. “We need to own mistakes,” he said. “It’s not just luck. The margins for making a mistake are very small.”

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Bournemouth had held Ipswich’s hand to the fire in dominating possession and opportunities in search of an equaliser of Conor Chaplin’s first-half strike. Once it came, they did not let up. As Ipswich wobbled with disappointment, Bournemouth coolly, almost surgically cut through blue shirts, and Ouattara reduced Portman Road to an anguished hush.

Thrilling to the last, here was a further demonstration that the provincial outposts of the Premier League in late 2024 boast players of huge talent. Fine football, too, as prescribed by progressive coaches. Ipswich and Bournemouth went at each other from the get-go, ­caution thrown to the winds of Storm ­Darragh, risk‑heavy football played at warp speed.

With risk comes probable pain, and Ipswich’s lack of game management cost them a major coup, as well as their long awaited first home win of the season. Bournemouth – a smaller, less historic club with their current ­reputation for taking down big dogs – are almost precisely what Ipswich aspire to be. A third win in succession took Andoni Iraola’s team up to eighth. Europe may eventually beckon. “We value the 24 points,” Iraola said, in deflection. “I don’t think we have to look at the ­standings, it’s too early.”

Beginning with a strange, unexplained opening-seconds clash between Justin Kluivert and Sam Morsy, it was set fair to be hard‑fought. The pace barely dropped from that moment. ­Bournemouth began the brighter amid the gloom of sour weather conditions but the home fans were lifted whenever Leif Davis went on a trademark overlap. It was from the opposite flank, and a cross from Omari Hutchinson that ­Cameron Burgess nodded over Ipswich’s first chance.

Their goal was not long in coming. When the ball dropped to ­Burgess from Davis’ long throw, when most players’ instinct would be to shoot, the centre-back coolly laid it up ­for Chaplin to guide home. Soon after, Burgess nodded in, only for Delap’s second-row rugby-style jostling at a corner to be ruled illegal, a decision McKenna felt unfair.

Iraola was then booked as the contest was heated by Marcus Tavernier looking to be tripped in chasing down a loose ball in the Ipswich box. This time, VAR ruled in Ipswich’s favour but ­tempers were boiling in the stands and on the field. A breathless first half closed with Bournemouth penning Ipswich in their own half while only able to create a series of snatched half-chances.

Such a pattern continued from the start of the second half though repeated Hail Mary runs into enemy territory from Liam Delap and Davis relieved the pressure on the Ipswich defence. Whether Iraola’s team, whose better days have often come via the counter, are comfortable in being asked to pick through an opponent was the question being asked, and eventually answered. They stuck to the process and reaped their rewards when reinforcements arrived.

Ipswich had their chances to stave off any revival. Sammie Szmodics forced Kepa Arrizabalaga into a save, the rebound agonisingly ­diverting beyond Delap. Iraola removed the disappointing ­Evanilson and Tavernier, whose first‑half miss of Milos Kerkez’s cross had set the tone for wayward ­finishing, with the craft of David Brooks and the muscle of Philip Billing. The game would be decided by Iraola’s changes, four of his subs featuring in Bournemouth’s goals. “We were almost in desperation mode at that point,” their manager said. “We needed fresh players. Lucky for us they make the difference.”

As the match reached its crucial moments, Chaplin scooped wide when his second goal beckoned. Burgess, once of Scunthorpe and Accrington, was at that point headed for man of the match status. He read Antoine Semenyo’s mind when an overload beckoned. Home support surged with a mixture of belief and anxiety and then triumph whenever a Bournemouth attack broke down.

Then came disaster and pessimism. Their goalkeeper Arijanet Muric’s rush of blood in charging towards Semenyo opened up the goalmouth, a desperate Burgess could not clear the ball and Unal, one of those substitutes, was on hand. It was Brooks’s shot that dropped into Ouattara’s path for the clincher.

As full time sounded, McKenna stood stock still, cutting a lonesome figure before eventually moving to applaud Ipswich fans. His appreciation was loudly returned. “It’s no time to feel sorry for ourselves,” he said, even if that would have been perfectly understandable.