This is one of my favorite basketball games of all time. We got creamed on the court. But we had a great victory in the stands. I was preoccupied for most of the game by keeping my eye on #10, who happens to be my third-born grandson. He is an energetic player who gets great delight from simply charging up and down the court. That night he set a couple of great screens (or picks, as he told me they are sometimes called). He is also prone to pat the opposing player on the back and say, “Are you okay, Buddy?” if the kid falls down. The crowd loves him.

But, just before the game ended, one of Jesse’s teammates swished a great shot from almost the three point line. It was perfect, and the crowd roared as if the shot had won the game. This player doesn’t see a lot of court time, and he is exactly the opposite of Jesse. He keeps a game face on all the time, and never draws any attention to himself. (He did break almost half a smile on this shot.)

While we were cheering, I glanced up in the stands, and that is when I saw the victory. His dad was standing on a bench, arms crossed and face beaming. He isn’t very demonstrative, either, but the pride and pleasure in his smile was obvious. Then it hit me. He could be in jail tonight. In fact, he had been in jail when his son was small.

Then I looked around the crowd and saw two more dads with similar pasts. I saw other parents who were former addicts and others who had struggled with life-controlling issues.. I watched the team line up for hand shakes and felt overwhelmed by the revelation. We looked like a regular group of fans suffering in the stands through an elementary basketball game. But, in truth, we are a clan of broken people put back together by the mercy of God. And, because of His mercy, we are watching our kids play basketball instead of withering in a jail cell.

We are winning.