BOULDER — Maybe this is how Colorado Buffaloes star Laviska Shenault Jr., who doesn’t say boo, can force his way into the Heisman Trophy conversation.

“Viska? This is kind of a crazy comparison, but he’s kind of just like LeBron,” CU quarterback Steven Montez said Tuesday.

Say what? Laviska = LeBron. Now there’s some big talk.

But, yes, Montez went there, because like LeBron James, Shenault has an uncanny knack to constantly surpass his own incomparable athletic feats. “He just keeps getting better every week. And I think that’s the scariest thing about it,” Montez said. “Because what do you think he’s going to do this week?”

Well, I’m here to tell you, Shenault is not LeBron James. But, in all likelihood, Shenault is a future first-round choice in the NFL draft. Is that being too bold?

When former CU coach Gary Barnett claimed earlier this season that Shenault was the best player to wear a Buffs helmet in 20 years, I also believed it was probably kind-hearted exaggeration.

But what Shenault has done on the college football field is as jaw-dropping impressive as anyone on the Heisman Watch compiled by the cool kids at ESPN, and that includes Alabama quarterback Tua Tagovailoa, who has compiled big, fat statistics primarily off cupcakes coach Nick Saban ordered from the 50-percent-off rack. Arkansas State? The Louisiana Ragin’ Cajuns? Are those football teams or puff pastries?

Now, I’ve got a Heisman ballot and am not afraid to use it to fight the power of conventional wisdom. (For example: When hundreds of Heisman “experts” handed Jason White of Oklahoma the trophy in 2003, I was one of five knuckleheads who listed Ben Roethlisberger from Miami-Ohio atop my ballot.)

But here’s the deal: Shenault and the Buffaloes are headed to Hollywood. Is Shenault ready for his close-up? For the movers-and-shakers of college football to give serious consideration to this upstart CU team or its electric young star, the Buffs absolutely must beat Southern Cal in the Coliseum.

Fair or not, Shenault has the next two weekends, when CU plays back-to-back road games at USC and Washington, to make enough noise to become more than a blip on the Heisman watch radar. He’s good at scoring touchdowns, having already found the end zone 10 times in five games. But toot his own horn? Shenault doesn’t even own a trumpet.

“He’s a quiet guy,” Colorado coach Mike MacIntyre said.

That might be an understatement. If Shenault, the sophomore receiver who is reason No. 1 the Buffaloes are undefeated and ranked among the top 25 in the polls, were any more humble, he could be mistaken for a football hermit.

“I’m just going to keep being me,” said Shenault, shrugging his shoulders, without an additional meaningful word of explanation.

What’s more, the Heisman electorate seldom acknowledges the position played by Shenault. No wide receiver has won the Heisman since 1991, when Desmond Howard played for Michigan. In this century, the lone receivers to finish among the top three in Heisman voting were Pittsburgh’s Larry Fitzgerald (second, 2003) and Alabama’s Amari Cooper (third, 2014).

Shenault, however, is starting to get recognized for more than his ability to catch the football. USA Today last week gave Shenault some sweet pub, and ESPN GameDay visited Boulder this week, attracting the attention of A-list reporter Gene Wojciechowski, because Shenault has a compelling past, full of triumph over tragedy. Everyone who has known Shenault’s name since his days at DeSoto High School know the most essential part of his name is the Jr. at the end.

Laviska Sr. died in an automobile accident in 2009 along a Texas highway, while his then 10-year-old son sat in the front seat. The kid started growing his dreadlocks after the tragedy, and the trademark hair is not only a physical manifestation of undying love for a late parent, but also tangible motivation to make the most of every day.

“We all have a dog mindset,” Shenault said, “a want-to-win mindset.”

The Buffaloes’ motto for 2018 is: Nothing to say, a lot to prove.

I don’t know if those words were conceived with Shenault in mind. But nobody amplifies those words louder than Shenault. He’s one stealthy cat. And aren’t the quiet ones always the most dangerous?