There’s an intense passion behind everything Simon Mitchell chooses to devote his time.

Whether it’s his beautiful family, basketball, or the hard-edged music that has helped shape the man he is today, the South East Melbourne coach immerses himself.

The heavy metal mentor wears his heart on his sleeve during Phoenix games. He typically sports a steely look on his face as he paces the sidelines, but that quickly gives way to emotion as he rides the bumps with his players, never scared to confront them if they blow an assignment — or a ref who gets on his wrong side.

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But bring up his family — wife and former WNBL star Kerryn and children Frankie, 10, Spencer, 12, and Mackenzie, 17 — or music, and his hardened veneer quickly comes down.

The 49-year-old is an encyclopaedia of metal music and its offshoot genres, musing about everything from his first gig — Dire Straits in 1986 at the old Melbourne Entertainment Centre “which is now Collingwood Football Club’s pool” — to his hatred of nu metal, to his first stage dive — at a Nirvana concert.

Horror movies and Kiss

Mitchell, like most other kids of his generation, would head to the local video shop each week with his family and get the 10 for $7 rental deal. “I’d sneak a couple of horror movies in there”.

That interest in shock cinema led to the discovery of iconic rock band Kiss.

“They combined everything for me: They looked cool when you’re a kid,” he laughed.

“They were performers. They had the big light show. They had the fire everywhere. Serpents on stage. And their music was awesome.”

That set him on a path of exploration and discovery which has grown into a lifelong love of music with edge.

Since that Dire Straits concert, where he was entranced by the talents of the legendary Mark Knopfler, he estimates he’s been to “hundreds” of gigs.

He’d be able to tell you the exact number if he wanted to, because he’s kept the ticket stub from every show.

Simon Mitchell's favourite gigs

Hoops or music?

When a young Mitchell wasn’t playing ball in the backyard or on court, the guitar-mad teen was in the garage at his Watsonia home with his mates, jamming.

A faint dream of a music career quickly faded when he was blown away by legendary riff master Yngwie Malmsteen at the Palace in St Kilda.

“I had my ribs crushed at that show,” he laughs.

“The (Steve) Vais and (Joe) Satrianis on the back of Malmsteen and the Paul Gilberts of the world, they were just at a level that you were like, ‘I could never get there, that’s beyond me. I can’t play like that, I’ll stick with basketball’.”

Basketball might have played out, too, had his body not failed him during a college stint in the US.

Brett Brown might be best known to hoops fans as Ben Simmons’ first coach when he arrived at Philadelphia 76ers. But the Maine native, who coached the Australian Boomers as well as teams in the NBL, also guided Mitchell’s junior career with Melbourne Tigers and then Bulleen, before helping him secure a college shot in his home state.

“It was very different back then, it wasn’t like you were shifting VHS tapes across the globe or scouts were coming out to see you play like they do now,” Mitchell said.

“It was all done on word of mouth.

“Brett Brown spoke to the coaches and said, ‘Look, I’ve got this kid, he’d love to go to college, he’ll kill it, give him a shot’.

“And they took a chance on a scholarship for an international kid, unsighted.”

He arrived in 1992 and led the University of Maine at Presque Isle to a pair of top-20 national rankings for the first time in its history.

But a bad back, two surgically repaired ankles and compartment syndrome would lead to him giving up the game — at 23 — and going into coaching.

“I struggled for a while, I probably got on the sauce a little too much afterward,” he said.

“But at the end of the day, I got into coaching because I saw that as a pathway to stay in the sport and still climb levels.

“I didn’t have a shot at the top while playing, so I was done.

“It’s ambition, which is what drove me, and it still does.”

Remember the GFC?

Mitchell’s path to South East Melbourne is one of both determination and uncertainty.

On his return from the US, he went home to coach Diamond Valley.

In 2007, then-Tigers assistant Dean Vickerman took a job with Singapore Slingers — back when the NBL got funky — and Mitchell stepped into his role.

The Tigers would make the NBL finals in his first season and then win it all the next, led by Aussie hoops legend Chris Anstey.

But the global financial crisis hit, scuttling Mitchell’s finance business and making it unviable to continue coaching.

Just married and with a young child at home and another on the way, he made the hard decision to give up the Tigers’ job.

“I took a job full time with ING Bank. Four weeks and one day into my career with ING, they shut down their business,” he said.

“So I got a payout — by one day — and that sustained us for the rest of the year.

“But there were no jobs in finance for at least 18 months.”

So basketball it was.

He snapped up an admin job at Sandringham basketball — with future Melbourne United chief executive Vince Crivelli — before moving to Knox as head of basketball and then to Frankston, where his children were playing.

This experience in grassroots hoops proved to be a key attraction for South East Melbourne, years later.

Phoenix wanted to plant roots in the local basketball community — Mitchell already had them.

The United years

Before South East Melbourne was even a thought, Mitchell went through all the ups and downs at another ‘new’ franchise — Melbourne United.

His first day on the job at the rebranded team, the club controversially parted ways with his friend Anstey — one game into the new season.

“I got a call from Chris to come down and help out,” he recalls.

“I went to their first game and they lost by 30 to Cairns.

“I spoke to Vince after the game and said, ‘I’m in’, to help Chris. I was heartbroken for him.”

The next morning, unbeknown to Mitchell, Anstey had been given his marching orders.

“I walk in and there’s D-Mac (Darryl McDonald). We are mates. He played on those Tigers teams when I was assistant.

“We’re chatting and, after about six or seven minutes, I thought to myself, ‘He’s talking like he’s the coach’.

“I had no idea he’d been appointed the coach.

“I felt like I was the meat in the sandwich, because I was mates with Vince and Chris.”

The new club struggled for identity and on-court success until Vickerman and former AFL player Trent Hotton arrived, guiding it to victory against Adelaide in the 2018 NBL grand final.

“It’s been undersold how important Trent was to that championship,” Mitchell said.

“He was the head of culture and he came in and just swept the floor and said, ‘This is our direction, this is how we do things now’.

“He and Vicko helped build what United is today.”

The next season, Mitchell was called up by Phoenix a week into the season.

“Phoenix did it the right way, asked the club, ‘Would you guys be OK, we’re interested in Simon’,” he said.

“That’s how it all came about … And now we don’t like each other.”

‘Grumpy old bastard’

As we continue on this musical opus, Mitchell speaks with reverence of the great Mark Lanegan, of Screaming Trees fame, who died this month

He’s animated as he reels off the names. Queens of the Stone Age, The Cure (not their synth stuff) and even the likes of Bob Dylan and Canadian folk songstress Sarah McLachlan.

Throw in some Black Sabbath, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam and Jane’s Addiction, too: “As long as it is rooted in guitar or had real songwriting, I am up to trying it.”

There’s an energy and a purity about the music. An authenticity that takes him back to his youth. Away from life’s stresses.

Simon Mitchell's favourite songs

He delves into black metal no one’s heard of, like “Agalloch, out of Portland, Oregon, or Khorada”, who helped him finally appreciate the brilliance of Canadian legends Rush.

“They’ve just taken a different path, more authentic, not replicating their idols.”

That’s where the “grumpy old bastard” comes out — even if he is careful how he labels music that might not be to his taste.

“One thing, as an old man — and I own my age now — I love to find new bands, but it’s so hard because they just don’t measure up,” he said.

“There’s a lot of s--- out there but, at the same time, there are people out there who appreciate it.

“I don’t like The Eagles, but I’m not going to sit here and say they’re s---. They’re clearly great musicians and very good songwriters, it’s just not for me.”

He still buys CDs — has a massive collection — but uses streaming app Spotify “as a taste test”.

“I’m a traditionalist, so I’ll read about a band — which is what we all did it back in the day — give it a go on Spotify and, if I like it, I’ll buy it,” he said.

‘Tears welled up in my eyes’

Any metal fan of Mitchell’s vintage will remember Central Station Records in the old arcade at Flinders St Station, where Fed Square now stands.

“My favourite thing in the world as a kid, besides getting in the garage with my mates and playing (guitar), was going to a joint called Central Station records,” he said.

“My mates and I would go there and we’d get lost, spend the whole day listening to music, talking to staff, discovering the latest records and just staring at album covers.

“I remember when Metallica brought out their first album, we paid $35 for it on vinyl because it was imported.”

Metallica’s first three albums are Mitchell’s bread and butter — the more thrashy stuff, before they really entered the mainstream.

“I remember the first day I saw Master of Puppets come out (1986, he was 13), I was at a place called CC Records at Greensborough Shopping Mall,” he said.

“I lived about 5km from the mall. I had never seen a Metallica album at a record store outside of import stuff, where you had to save up for ages to buy it because it was so expensive.

“I just remember seeing Puppets for $13.99, and tears welled up in my eyes that you could buy a Metallica record without paying $35.

“So I hid the album cover behind Abba and ran home, got money ran back to the store, bought it, then ran home again to listen to it.

“I ended up doing a 15km run, which was probably good for my basketball.

“Then you’re on the phone calling your mates, ‘I just bought Metallica’s new album!’.”

He discovered Brit metal legends Judas Priest thanks to an aunt who worked at RCA Columbia Records.

“My first metal album was Sad Wings of Destiny. My aunt knew I liked hard rock and she came around our house one day and threw a heap of albums at me,” he said.

“I played it first because I loved the album cover and, to this day, it’s still my favourite of all time.”

‘There’s something in that’

Mitchell’s love for music has been passed down to his children.

“My two youngest, they have found their own stuff,” he said.

“My youngest daughter, she loves Kiss, she loves W.A.S.P., her favourite, though, is Pat Benatar.

“She heard a couple of Avril Lavigne songs and read that she listened to Pat Benatar.

“She found Aerosmith for herself. She loves Fleetwood Mac. She loves Stevie Nicks — like everyone does. Stevie was my crush when I was a kid.”

His eldest daughter is a fan of The Cure and “my son parades around the house in Skid Row T-shirts”,

“Whatever it was back then for me, it has stayed with them and they’ve found their own bands now,” he said.

“I’m just glad they’ve gone for music that’s not created in studios with one person and computers.”

Covid sucks

The only thing Mitchell hates more than missing gigs during the lockdowns of the past two years is being unable to watch his children hoop.

All three are talented ballers with bright futures, yet lockdowns and the NBL’s strict Covid restrictions has made it impossible for him to watch them.

“I haven’t seen them play in two years, it’s horrible,” he said.

“As part of the NBL restrictions, I’m not allowed in the gyms. I even have to sit in the carpark while they train.

“My eldest is really gifted, but just not that into it. She’s physically gifted and really skilled. She has time to figure it out.

“The other two are full on, they’ll both be really high-level players.”

Mitchell’s had an interesting ride with Covid. While he hasn’t contracted the virus, his son did and, as a close contact, it forced him to miss three Phoenix games — which he had to watch on the TV at home.

He’s had to get refunds for a number of gigs he’d bought tickets to before Victoria was locked down — numerous times.

“When Covid kicked in, I think I had tickets to four shows,” he said.

“(Iron) Maiden were coming out. I had tickets for Love/Hate, that got cancelled. Faith No More got cancelled, and LA Guns was cancelled.”

He’s seen Kiss six times and vowed never to do it again. But the kids want to go now and, given the upcoming world tour is set to be their last, he’ll have to bite the bullet.

“I am looking forward to live music again,” he said.

“I do worry that the bands I want to see, it won’t be economically viable for them to come — they can’t afford to take a late cancellation.

“Are the other smaller venues going to be able to support live music again? I don’t want to see too many bands at Rod Laver Arena.

“The industry just keeps taking hits.”

Simon Mitchell's favourite bands

More metal in the gym? Maybe not

Phoenix pumps up the John Cain Arena crowd before games by blaring Enter Sandman.

Mitchell would prefer earlier Metallica.

He’s glad there isn’t much metal at games: “I’d lose my train of thought and focus.”

“I remember (Dio’s) Holy Diver coming on (at a Phoenix game), and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m hearing Holy Diver at a basketball game in Australia, this is incredible’.

“The only other time I think I’ve ever heard a (metal) song whilst I’m in the gym during a time-out was The Game by Motorhead up in Illawarra.

“They played it and it pricked my attention. I don’t really like that song that much, but I worship everything Motorhead — it’s my favourite band.”

Never satisfied

Mitchell says the external expectation doesn’t match up with what he expects from his team.

In its second year of existence, the Phoenix made the NBL semi-finals and pushed eventual champions United to three games.

Most pundits thought they overachieved. Not Mitchell.

“I don’t know if I’m proud of what we’ve been able to achieve,” he said.

“People were saying last year, ‘Oh, it’s so great, you guys made semi-finals in your second year’, and I was like, ‘F---, we just lost’.

“Winning, to me, has never been something that is joyful — It’s expected.

“It’s the losing that drives you to never want to lose again.

“I struggle to celebrate the wins. I let the guys celebrate and I certainly pat them on the back after a win but I don’t enjoy the wins as much as I hate the losses.

“It’s just the way I’m wired.”

So why does he do it then?

“I want to win a championship,” he said.

“We’re not sneaking up on anyone this year. I’m sure other teams look at us and think to themselves, ‘They’re tough’.

“Losing last year in the semis just made me want to win it more, so, for me, it’s just head down, keep working, let’s get better.

“Hopefully this year it’s the year.”