BHAFC U21s Vs Olympique Lyonnais at the American Express Elite Football Performance Centre, with Dogma’s Andrew Forsyth.

“Sorry, there’s strictly no photography anywhere in the centre.” I’m on my first visit to the American Express Elite Football Performance Centre (AEEFPC to the regulars) and things are not off to a good start.

I take out my phone, looking to get a quick photo of the glowing white sign sitting above the curved front of the building, set against the jet-black sky. It would’ve been quite arty, but you’ll just have to take my word for it.

“What about during the game?” I ask the security guard who is on me like a shot. “No, can’t do that either.”

I’ve paid a fiver to see the Albion U21 squad play in a tournament I’ve never heard of: welcome to the Premier League’s Premier League International Cup. We’re up against Olympique Lyonnais, and this evening’s match could be the final or the preliminary qualifiers for all I know.

My plan was a gritty photo story, focusing on the production line that is churning out the next generation of Albion legends. But no, I’ll just have to enjoy the game. Or maybe have a go at being a scout.

There’s a handful of people here, ushered into a white elite performance reception room with elite performance grey sofas, elite performance green carpet and a message on a large tv screen confirming that I am indeed in the elite performance centre. I can understand why the club wants to keep these cutting edge developments hush hush.

I’m 45 minutes early (parking on site, no queue) in the hope that I can savour the atmosphere before the game, only to discover that I’ll be escorted to the pitch fifteen minutes before kick-off. There’s nothing to do except help myself to the free drinks. Thanks Uncle Tony, but there’s no fresh filter coffee, only instant on offer. I’ll be raising the matter in the next fans forum.

We’re an odd bunch. Some sitting around and murmuring in small groups, and some trying to work out where the elite milk is kept.

Tonight’s crowd can be divided into equal thirds. First timers like me, looking lost and here purely out of curiosity. The second group are travelling with the away team. Perhaps a couple of parents, agents or club officials, chattering away in French. They seem excited to be here, and can only dream of facilities with elite sofas.

The third group all seem to know each other. Dressed in BHAFC scarves and hats, gathered around the printed elite team sheet, and deep in discussion. “Such and such needs to step up tonight”, “it’s great to have this lad in the side” and “there are some big names tonight and we should win this”. It’s BHAFC development squad knowledge as an elite sport, and they’re in the right place.

At some unseen signal we’re off. Walking in our groups, past at least seven immaculate pitches complete with portable floodlights (all switched on even though they’re not in use, tsk-tsk to our green claims).

The massive hangar looks most intriguing, a covered pitch for training in all weathers. Today the complex is cold, drizzly, and exposed to the wind. As we arrive at the designated pitch we’re ushered into a proper old-school footy shed-stand, capacity maybe 150.

Families to the right, fans to the left, please. There are plenty of empty seats, so if you’re not here week in week out you’re a fucking plastic. There’s an old guy with a laptop typing notes, some well-dressed people who I assume are player’s girlfriends – obviously bored out of their skulls but dutifully enduring the chill – plus some agents on their phones, making deals and pushing for moves.

The French team look a bit short. Or maybe it’s just that our players are very tall. I’m on a front row seat and the pitch is about 2m in front of me, so I can stand up to prove that Brighton are indeed massive.

There are no names on their shirts, so that team sheet is put to good use. No clock, no announcements, no catering. And no cheering, just some quiet muttering. It’s a world away from a “real” game, and I can understand why players need to be prepared for playing in front of large crowds.

Both teams are straight at it, with slick passing and good movement off the ball. Brighton are reassuringly familiar, playing the ball across the centre backs, inviting pressure before pinging it to the midfielders. It’s the De Zerbi pre-school. Our number 4, Ruairi (pronounced Ruairi) McConville is a Dunk-a-like. Big, shouty and clearly the leader on the pitch. Mark O’Mahony is a clone of Ferguson, a couple of years younger but good at holding up passes fired in his direction.

Peupion is perhaps the most recognisable, back on loan from Cheltenham Town. A career as a Jack Grealish impersonator is a good fallback for him if the football doesn’t work out. He’s quick, aggressive and loves to take on the defender. Baker-Boaitey is playing wide, and I can practically reach out and trip him up. He has a reasonable game, but my inexperienced eye can’t see why he’s the one player who has made his senior debut. I’ll defer to De Zerbi’s better judgement.

Atom does a great knee slide when he scores, which will come in handy for the end of season videos. But the one player that looks like a real prospect isn’t playing for us. Lyon’s 19-year old Moussa Kante not only sounds like the perfect Prem midfielder, he looks and plays the part. Quick, great close control, short with a low centre of gravity, he’d slot into most top flight sides. Senegal have already blooded him at International level, so it’s only a question of when.

All 22 bodies on the pitch are being put on the line. The referee is of the liberal persuasion. She didn’t come here to wave cards in the wind, there’s a game to be played. Still got both legs attached? Then play on, son. It’s refreshing to watch a game of ninety minutes with actual football played for ninety minutes.

The standard is largely impressive but with the odd comical error. Dunk-a-like plays one across the back straight to the French forward, a long pass ends up in Shoreham Harbour and the Albion keeper Cahill forgets to put his foot on the ball as a gentle back pass rolls in for Lyon’s equaliser.

But it’s a safe space, and these mistakes don’t bring howls of abuse from the supporters. It’s part and parcel at this level. Much better to get the clangers out of your system before you have an army of keyboard fans insisting you must never play for the club again.

Brighton’s Number 6 Joe Knight looks promising too. A quick Google search tells me he is 18, with ten appearances, three goals and one assist to his name already. And he looks comfortable at this higher level. All the players need time to develop the instinctive passing and movement that is De Zerbi’s model.

Behind them are years of thankless graft, putting their bodies at risk with no guarantee of a payday at the end of it all. They do have time to perfect the first touch, to see the pass and find the space. But they don’t have long.

Oh and there’s a fight after a hard tackle right at the end of the game. Brighton win 2-1 and claim top spot in the Premier League International Cup, Group B (whatever that means), and we are all escorted back to the elite performance car park.

What have i learned from my evening out watching BHAFC and OL at the AEEFPC? The coffee is rubbish, we can expect to see Mark O’Mahony on the first team bench in the very near future, actually writing down notes on which players did what during the game is a useful aspect of football scouting, and Uncle Tony should sign Moussa Kante as soon as possible.

Andrew Forsyth / @AforsythTWP

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