Ange Postecoglou can appear taciturn and largely emotionless. But behind the public persona is a more complex character whose identity has been forged by a fascinating backstory, one intertwined with – and shaped by – the colourful National Soccer League and the associated immigrant experience.

To say Postecoglou’s start in senior football was notable is an understatement. It is, however, the kind of anecdote that seemingly only “old soccer” could produce. The visit of perennial champions Sydney City to Middle Park was always a highlight on the South Melbourne fixture list. Taking on and overcoming the bone-rattling take-no-prisoners style of Eddie Thomson’s all-star side was not a task for the faint-hearted. One blood and thunder challenge, albeit one no different to countless others, left Socceroo Alan Davidson – father of Australia’s current left-back Jason – on the ground having swallowed his tongue. Tragedy was only avoided as a fan hurdled the waist-high fence, alerting the bench to the figure of a by now shaking Davidson. Davidson was carted off to hospital and the 18-year-old Postecoglou thrown into the skirmish to survive or perish. A boy became a man.

It was a unique way to make the transition from worshipping along with thousands of other Greek-Australians in the stadium's old, tin-shed grandstand, to being one of the feted few chosen to play. It could, though, have been a different scenario. Only a few years earlier Postecoglou was shunning the game he loved in an effort to fit in with a monocultural Australia. To be a soccer fan was almost to be part of a subculture; one on the fringe of society. In Johnny Warren’s parlance, this was the era of “sheilas, wogs and poofters”.

Born in Athens, Postecoglou’s family joined the burgeoning Greek diaspora in Melbourne when he was five. He may not have understood growing up in what was then the world’s second-largest Greek city, but Postecoglou now readily admits that his character developed firstly as a slightly marginalised immigrant kid, and then later in life as a soccer zealot in a world of non-believers.

“Many of my most memorable times [as a child] were football related,” Postecoglou says. “My dad first took me down to South Melbourne when I was eight and I joined the club when I was nine. Those are the strongest memories of my youth. It was a big part of my childhood.

“For us Middle Park became almost the social hub for Greek-Australian migrants. It almost became our church and it is significant that it was a Sunday because it was a place where we found community.

“It was a unique atmosphere, a sense of community, a passionate vocal crowd, and it made a strong impression on me as a young kid.”

For a while Postecoglou partly shunned his natural passion, playing Aussie Rules and supporting Carlton. Eating funny food and referencing the likes of Atti Abonyi or Eddie Krncevic brought little kudos in the schoolyard, in an era without wall-to-wall football on TV. “There was a while there when I didn’t love soccer, I loved [Australian Rules] football,” says Postecoglou. “It was a way of fitting in. You want to fit in and not be the kid with a long surname that doesn’t fit in. Sport is the common denominator. I think that experience taught me resilience and a real determination for what I want to do because my love for the game was tested.

“It has become my career and that was something completely unfathomable when the sport was a second-tier sport at best. That has given me a really strong belief in the game, shaped by those experiences about the beauty of the game when so many were blinded to it because it was something that wasn’t Australian for so long.”

In the long-term such experiences merely served to harden his passion for football. It means Postecoglou, like others of his generation, has a strong appreciation of the warp-speed growth in the game over the past decade.

“The game was poorly run and administered, and for many it was seen as a foreign thing that wasn’t Australian and had nothing to do with society,” said Postecoglou. “That was really tough if people weren’t accepting of something you really loved and wanted to talk about. It almost became a taboo subject at times.

“There was a very real point when I thought the game was going to die. I still get nervous when people talk about turning the corner because I have seen so many false dawns. I remember when we went national in 1977 before AFL and NRL. We thought that was the turning point.

“I know now that it is part of our society and is not seen as un-Australian anymore. The A-League has played a big part in that. It [football] is definitely part of the Australian landscape and growing.”

While Postecoglou rightly points to the A-League as pivotal in the growth of football in Australia he, with typical understatement, is reluctant to talk about his own role. Yet his contribution has been hugely significant. He is the only coach to consistently taste success either side of the game’s schism that resulted in the end of the NSL in 2004 and the birth of the A-League a year later. He won two championships at the helm of his beloved South Melbourne – the first at just 32 – and two more with Brisbane Roar in the A-League, a tally unsurpassed by any coach in the 37 years of national competition.

More telling, perhaps, is Postecoglou’s role in almost single-handedly altering the football philosophy in Australia. Under Postecoglou, Brisbane were transformed into a team that played a modern high-tempo possession-based attacking game. They were immediately successful and almost overnight the discourse across the league, and even in grassroots football, shifted to “playing the right way”. History will undoubtedly cast Postecoglou at the forefront of this rapid-fire evolution.

The game’s current management, to their credit, recognised the pendulum swing and, after several years of privately having a policy of ‘locals need not apply’, Postecoglou was appointed to the national team role last October. He brought with him a heartfelt pride in the local game, and therefore the Socceroo shirt. It was something that was, by definition, missing under the previous reigns of Holger Osieck, Pim Verbeek and Guus Hiddink.

Postecoglou was choking back tears when the 1974 World Cup Socceroos met the current team in a social function in Sydney late last year. Not a man given to overt displays of emotion, the sight was undoubtedly a new experience to witness even for those who had known Postecoglou for a long time.

“I don’t think we have done our history well as a code,” Postecoglou says in tone that suggest it is a subject of exasperation. “There were times when we seemed to have tried to bury our history as a dirty little secret. Ultimately we are all here because of pioneers of the past. I remember watching the likes of Jimmy Mackay and Jimmy Armstrong playing for South Melbourne in the early 70s and it had a significant impact on me as a person.”

Now Postecoglou has the opportunity to make his mark in the annals of Australian sport with a tenure that spans two World Cup campaigns. And he says he is ready to make his mark.

“I think I was born to coach rather than play,” Postecoglou says. “I’m probably a little unusual in that sense. I have found my coaching career a lot more fulfilling than my playing career, even though I ticked many boxes as a player. To be honest I never thought I would reach those heights [international football] in my playing career. Not that I wasn’t ambitious, but I thought it was a bridge too far and I had realised goals by playing for South Melbourne and winning championships [Postecoglou won four caps for Australia].

“I tell players all the time that when you get to the end of your career you will most likely get two questions: ‘did you win anything’ and ‘did you play for Australia’. It is nice to say yes to both and it probably carries more significance for me now than it did then.”