There’s something about the way young Costa Rican Carlos Muñoz surfs that exudes an infectious joy. Maybe it’s the smile that spreads across his face on cue after every wave, and the glistening white teeth it reveals. It could be his languid carriage, or turns like the two he knocks out at the end of the first minute, or the feeling you get that even he doesn’t know what he’s going to do next. Or perhaps it’s his money-maker — that magnificent crop of hair, and the way he shakes it like a soggy dog shakes itself dry; the way it bounces happily up and down when he walks, and struggles to keep up with him when he spins through the air and races through turns. Whatever the fuck it is, we thoroughly approve.