The curtain fell hard on this evening. A battle for the play-offs, a battle of the play-offs. A single goal to decide the night, and a red card to boot. It had plenty, but as the final whistle blew with the rain streaming down, it was Worthing that didn’t have quite enough.

And it would be decided by the dreaded one goal. Were Farnborough worthy for their victory? On the balance of play perhaps not, but the factors at hand determined the outcome: the odds are always against those with 10 against 11.

But this was supposed to be it, the pinnacle of non-league: The Saunders Transport Community Stadium playing host to the side hailing from the Sussex Transport Community Stadium, Mustard vs Ketchup; but in a fixture such as this, with both sides gliding goals into the net at will, did it live up to its initial gravitas?

No, not really. Farnborough started the sharpest: Millar Matthew-Lewis powering beyond Sam Beard, ripping the red off his shirt before tamely shooting at goal. Chris Haigh collected with relative ease.

With seven minutes played Tommy Willard limped off. The incoming Jack Bates would help control the game for a time, until he was subbed off early in the second half.

He’d have the first genuine chance of the night for the Reds, too. Spinning just outside the D, the left-footed strike collided off the defender, pirouetting away. This was Worthing’s best period in a first half that was attritional, that was quiet.

The Reds were robust: Danny Cashman combining cutely on the right-flank, but placing the perfect pass would appear taxing. Mo Faal was there, with his back to goal, linking the play, but unable to force a way through.

As the 30-minute mark passed the waves of red attack were consistent. It was scalextric football: the ball zipping about at speed, you just wouldn’t know where it was going next. Worthing were the footballing side, the better side. But every time they’d power forward, the yellow block would be deployed in full effect.

You’d be erroneous to say that Worthing weren’t the better of the two sides in that opening half. They had the chances, they had the ball. They just couldn’t convert.

And then the opener arrived. Farnborough had barely caused Chris Haigh any grievance in that first period, but the ignominy would be showering down on his shoulders deep into first half stoppage time.

Most of the ground were bemused as the ball began to nestle, for Joe Haigh’s strike squirmed through the frame, and the delayed reaction confirmed the inevitable. Worthing had gone a goal down.

Then, looking to make an instant riposte, Cashman curled a delicious ball in. Jack Turner sprung to his left, forcing it wide. The half time whistle blew. Worthing were behind. And soon they’d be a man down, and a hill to climb became a mountain to scale.

20 seconds into the second half, Worthing were reduced to 10 men. Joe Cook was already on a yellow, had been beaten for pace and the foul was adjudged to have been a second yellow. A fair decision? It’s a big call to make in such a minute. And a decision that would prove pivotal.

The 60th minute arrived. The hosts were now in possession, as Worthing began to chase. It’s a sticky position the Reds had scarcely found themselves in. They were behind on Saturday and managed to muster a point. Today wouldn’t quite go the same way.

Haigh denied Luciano D’Auria-Henry with a fine save, a magnificent save. The ball had dropped to the forward, a tad fortuitously, but Haigh was alert and alive to fling to his left, and tip it away.

Sam Packham was on now, exchanging a flurry of gorgeous passes with Joel Colbran as Mo Faal was fed. The ball was perfect, the finish was so near. The ball drifting wide, wider as it crashed into the boards behind. The scoreline remained intact.

There was plenty to dissect for the purist: some nice play out the back, a few defensive wins. Farnborough were in control of those final stages, knocking it about, making the Reds’ heads spin. The man advantage was in full effect.

Until the very last minutes, where Worthing’s pressure so nearly proved decisive. Colbran was curling in the delights, but no one was there to collect. Still the pressure rose until it the final whistle blew. The Reds had been defeated. The night over with one peep of the whistle.

10pm neared and the game was over. The Reds had fought valiantly, defiantly, but it wasn’t to be. Worthing are puffing come the full-time whistle, but this was not the night for frustration.

For there was quality, desire and heart in this showing. It just wasn’t quite enough against a team fighting for the same journey’s end. The calendar is scrambled, and Saturday beckons: a chance to right the wrongs, to push this night firmly into past. There are plenty more points to be secured.