Luka Doncic Is No Darko Milicic
"Wonder Boy" is heading to the NBA, and he's out to change how we think about European imports.
by Mina Kimes
Outside of Europe, Doncic (pronounced dawn-chich) was still an abstraction, a set of inscrutable numbers paired with a name. Then in September, he came face-to-face with Kristaps Porzingis-- and his fabled existence suddenly felt real.
Last year national teams across Europe met at EuroBasket, a tournament that draws NBA veterans back to their home countries. Doncic, then 18 years old, joined Slovenia's team, which was led by Miami Heat guard Goran Dragic. When Slovenia played Latvia in the quarterfinals, Doncic and Porzingis went shot for shot. Then, halfway through the fourth quarter, the two crossed paths -- and for a moment, time stopped. Doncic dribbled between his legs, sizing up the towering Knicks center like a mathematician staring at a problem scrawled on a blackboard. Porzingis extended one rubbery arm. After a seemingly interminable pause, Doncic, known locally as Wonder Boy, dashed past the future All-Star and made a one-handed layup, glancing back at Porzingis as he jogged away.
The arena exploded. "I wanted to kill him," Porzingis says with a laugh, adding that he was "never that consistent" at Doncic's age. "I don't know any other European kid that plays at such a high level."
Every month, throngs of scouts trek to Spain, hoping to glean new pieces of data that will help them calculate whether Doncic's worth matches his hype. "Our reports are that he's the kind of guy who's very rare," one NBA executive says.
Traffic slows as we cruise through the center of the city, and some of the pedestrians stare at Doncic's car. He points out a Five Guys, the American fast-food chain. "It's amazing," he says. Two summers ago, Doncic spent two weeks in Santa Barbara, California, at P3, a sports science and workout facility that draws many NBA stars. The town reminded him of a Spanish village, he says. On the weekends, he took trips to Los Angeles with his mother and his girlfriend, who had flown in from Slovenia, visiting Hollywood Boulevard, Rodeo Drive (he was impressed by the giant Nike store nearby) and Six Flags. "LA is amazing for me. I especially like the amazing cars," he says. "I was at Venice Beach for ... what was the serial there, Baywatch? And it was amazing."
Aside from that trip, his only exposure to the States has been through American television. After watching all 10 seasons of Friends last summer, he's working his way through How I Met Your Mother and is keen on visiting New York. "Central Park!" he says. "Drink coffee!" He knows a couple of New York Knicks: Porzingis and Willy Hernangomez, who used to play for Real Madrid (in February, he'd be traded to Charlotte). Doncic says he mostly communicates with Hernangomez while playing the video game Call of Duty.
"I tried to play Call of Duty, and I got killed in one minute," Julio says.
I ask Doncic whether he plans on adopting a nickname like Porzingis' Three Six Latvia, and he smiles mischievously. "Swaggy L," he says.
Both Julio and Alyson groan.
"Swaggy ... LD," he suggests.
After his food arrives, I ask Doncic if he ever hears from NBA fans on social media. He nods, blushing again. "Some of them write 'Tank for Luka,'" he says. "I don't know. I just laugh." When he looks at their handles, he can tell they're from cities like Chicago, Orlando, Phoenix, Dallas -- places he's never seen, much less pondered as part of his adult life. He's reluctant to talk about his future. Real Madrid's season is only halfway over, and some of the team's fans still believe he'll stay another year. "You never know what can happen in the future," Doncic says, stealing a glance at Julio, who is staring at his phone. "I want to concentrate on where I am."
While Doncic is exceptionally vibrant on the court -- his games are punctuated by raucous celebrations and passionate fits, one of which recently resulted in an expulsion -- he betrays little emotion off of it, especially when pressed to discuss his own accomplishments. He's quick to deflect serious inquiries with dry humor.
Some teams are still apprehensive about picking Europeans near the top of the draft. While few would admit to typecasting foreigners, it's undeniable that they're more familiar with college stars. One executive speculates that his peers are more afraid of picking a European bust than an American one, simply because people will make a bigger deal out of it. Another says it can be hard to persuade owners, who are quick to bring up names like Bargnani. "It's like not seeing a movie because you saw one five years ago that sucked -- and you haven't seen one since," the executive says. "If they follow college basketball, they're so much more comfortable with the known."
Ironically, Doncic might be the most known quantity in basketball. "He's been seen, studied, evaluated by everyone," says Gherardini, who jokes, "I was aware of him since he was born!" Given his age, Doncic's production is almost unprecedented; rotations in the EuroLeague run deeper than they do in the NBA, which makes it hard for young players to tally meaningful minutes. (Several executives told me that the typical EuroLeague team would crush collegiate competition.) According to ESPN's Kevin Pelton, Doncic has the highest wins above replacement player (WARP) projection of any European prospect since 2006, when data became available. Based on Pelton's calculations, which take into account age and how other European prospects' statistics have translated to NBA production, Doncic's WARP projection isn't just higher than Ricky Rubio's and Nikola Jokic's -- it's also the highest projection on record, even besting that of a young Anthony Davis
Several of the NBA executives I spoke with characterized Doncic's upbringing as an advantage. They're similarly enthused that he's spent time in locker rooms with veterans. Dragic, who lived with Doncic during Slovenia's EuroBasket run, says he was amazed by how well the younger player adjusted to his role on the team. "I was kind of skeptical at first -- how am I gonna play with Luka, we're both ball-dominant guys? But in the end, we coexisted perfectly," he says.
Like Dragic, Igor Kokoskov, the Utah Jazz assistant who coached Slovenia, marvels at Doncic's precociousness. "Leadership and presence on the court -- you can't coach it," he says. In some ways, he explains, Doncic's background has molded him into the player he is today: a teenager who sees and thinks and moves on the court like a much older man, exhibiting none of the self-doubt that normally comes with inexperience. But it's also shaped him in unknowable ways. "He kind of missed some parts of his life -- his basketball childhood," Kokoskov says. "He had to grow up fast."
Without his entourage of minders hovering over him, Doncic seems more open and relaxed. When he mentions that he closely follows the NBA, I ask him what goes through his head when he watches games, and he chuckles. "That could be me, crossed over!" He says he likes the pace of play and the prevalence of the pick-and-roll. His favorite players are LeBron James, Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving, but he's enjoyed watching Ben Simmons. "I think we are, like, similar, you know?" he says. "He can play point guard, he can play forward. He can play a lot of stuff, like LeBron."
The next few months will be a whirlwind. After the lottery on May 15, Doncic won't have time to fly to the States to do any workouts; Real Madrid's season could last into June, which means he might miss the draft. He plans to return to Santa Barbara this summer to work on his speed and explosiveness, as well as his defense. When I ask him if his mother will move to America with him, he murmurs maybe, then corrects himself and says yes. "But if she will move, we will move to different apartments," he says, sitting up a little straighter in his chair.
Your life is going to be so different in a year.
"Maybe," he says. "If everything goes righ
He insists that uncertainty doesn't frighten him. "I just want to play basketball," he says. In a few months, he'll get on a plane and fly across the world to a city he's probably never seen, stepping into a light that will grow only brighter. From that point on, everything he encounters will be strange and new -- except for the thing he treasures the most, the facet of his life that's changed the least. When I ask him why the game makes him happy, he gives me a quizzical look, and I briefly wonder whether I have to reword the question so he'll understand it. "Because I love doing it," he says. Then he finishes his coffee and rises from his chair, leaving the restaurant unnoticed, perhaps for the last time.
The NBA eagerly awaits the arrival of Luka Doncic
the same people touting him as the next big star also told me that Darko would be better than Tim Duncan
Euro cacs get on the floor with a court full of brothas and that reality sets in....
