Watch Steve Nash warm up for an NBA game and you get the sense it’s still a game to him. He moves about the court like any ninth-grade hoops hound you ever knew ­ – almost skipping as he goes, a determined grin etched onto his face.

If you’re as old as I am, your playing days likely in the rearview, there’s a chance he reminds you of the player you once were, or aspired to be – someone whose love for the game is still unblemished, still innocent, still carefree.

That isn’t to say he doesn’t want to beat you. It isn’t to say he doesn’t understand the culture and the commercialism of the game. But you get the sense it’s still fun for him, still something of an escape.

You get the sense it’s almost as fun as the playground battles you fought as a runt, the kind you daydreamed about in math class and braved in spite of rain, snow or heat.

It’s hard not to root for the guy, in part because he has only a fraction the natural talent and physical gifts of many he plays against, particularly the thoroughbreds with whom he is regularly mentioned in MVP talk.

He’s a point guard who is not terribly quick and never has been. He’s a deft passer and talented shooter, but has never been a guy that could break ankles.

He’s never been an outstanding defender, and while he’s made his share of highlight-reel plays, his creativity is more tempered than that of many point guards he’ll someday join in the hall of fame – think Magic Johnson, Isaiah Thomas, Jason Kidd or Allen Iverson.

It’s hard not to root for Nash because he didn’t really start putting up numbers until he was 27 and didn’t reach his peak until four years later, when many point guards are in decline.

It’s hard not to root for him, because although he was overhyped during the seasons he won back-to-back MVP awards, there have always been doubters.

He was barely recruited out of high school and didn’t play in a top college program. Mark Cuban underestimated his value to the Dallas Mavericks and let him walk, only to see Nash walk all over the rest of the league the next few seasons.

It’s hard not to root for Nash because he’s a self-made superstar who doesn’t act like one, a guy who’s been to the top of the profession almost in spite of himself.

He’s a guy most people didn’t expect to make it halfway up the mountain but dwelled at the summit for a few years, looking down at all the suckers who thought he’d never get there.

It’s true that Nash was overrated for awhile – his teams didn’t win titles while he was racking up individual awards, remember – but not as much as it was tempting to think while his Phoenix Suns went into recent decline.

We watched Phoenix struggle to improve defensively and try in vain to incorporate the likes of Shaquille O’Neal. Some of the blame justifiably went to Nash.

But we’re seeing a renaissance in the desert this season, and once more seeing Nash’s greatest asset: a genius for getting the best out of teammates that would not otherwise be stars.

Best of all, we’re getting to see him do it with a love for the game that’s highly visible. Somehow the love many of us had for basketball as kids hasn’t escaped from Nash.