“He’s the biggest sensation we have seen in Latvia — everyone is following his success,” said Edvins Snore, a member of Parliament. “My son is 5 and he has in his bedroom now a basketball hoop. He proudly tells me that he is throwing the ball in just like Kristaps.”

The reaction in New York has been similar. Though Porzingis is having an extraordinary season, filled with the point-and-rebound triumphs that are known as double-doubles, his last few games have been slightly under par. In his almost perfect English, he has told reporters that although he was not injured, his legs were feeling tired. Still, he insisted, he has not hit the so-called rookie wall.

Image A Porzingis family portrait. From left, Ingrida, Martins, Kristaps, Janis, and Talis.

His popularity, however, remains undimmed, and that is due in no small part to the fact that the Knicks lost a franchise-record 65 games last year and are badly in need of a hero of their own. Their last would-be savior was Jeremy Lin, an unassuming point guard whose streaky play in early 2012 resulted in the untenable phenomenon called Linsanity. In mid-November, when Porzingis had his breakout game against Lin’s new team, the Charlotte Hornets, The Daily News ran a full-page photo of a pumped-up Porzingis on its front page. The headline: ZINGSANITY.

Preferring to focus on his game, Porzingis doesn’t like to talk about such things. If he is forced to, he will resort to a protective use of platitude. Asked to discuss his performance on the court, he invariably talks about “the team,” which may be admirable, but isn’t very interesting. It is much the same with his life outside of basketball. Dozens of interviews have dwelled on the fact that his favorite restaurant is the Cheesecake Factory. “They have millions of different cheesecakes,” he has said and said again.

Porzingis doesn’t actually have much of a life outside of basketball. By his own account, he wakes each day at 8 a.m., has a modest breakfast, is in the gym by 9, works out with the team at a Knicks training center in Westchester, lifts some weights, shoots a bunch of free throws and is home by 3 p.m. His agent no longer tries to advise him on where to find a decent steak. Aside from cheesecake, Porzingis mostly eats his mother’s cooking, which already is heavy on meat.

“He’s always practicing or on the road,” Janis Porzingis said. “He doesn’t go out at all. And it’s not even about whether he wants to or not — he simply can’t.”