I’ll confess that I love a man named Luka. It’s a platonic love, but it’s a type of love all the same. Luka Dončič, whom I’ve never met, brings sunshine and joy into my life. When he performs well, my day is brighter. When he has an off night (or if, as is the case while I’m writing this, he’s nursing an ankle injury), I’m a little bluer and a little distracted. My wife and I share this affection, and I’m comfortable that she loves someone else in this way. In fact, millions do, not only Mavericks fans. Luka has a euphoria about him that is infectious. So many athletes, no matter how good, seem in it for the money. Luka is making tons of it, of course, but he has a childlike enthusiasm, a levity that is spreads to those who see him play.