I'm a huge sports fan. I know that in the eternal scheme of things sports don't really matter. I don't think God cares a bit who wins any particular game. But tonight, to me, sports take on eternal significance.

You see, the doctors say my father will probably return home to his Father in Heaven tonight. Some of our happiest memories are of watching sporting events together, including watching BYU upset Oklahoma, watching Jimmer light up the college basketball world, watching his Utes reach the National Championship game in hoops, and watching the Jazz twice reach the NBA Finals.

One of my clearest memories of childhood was of him dragging me out of bed at the end of the national championship victory over Michigan so I could watch BYU win a National Championship. He told me he wanted me to see it because he was sure it would never happen again in my lifetime (I fear he'll be right).

So tonight I'm sitting in his bedroom, next to him in his hospital bed, and for one final time we're doing what we've done a thousand times before - watching sports. I love him with all of my heart, and I already miss him more than I can describe (he's slipped into a coma), but being able to watch Game 1 of the NBA Finals together somehow - which is exactly what we'd be doing if he were healthy - brings me some comfort.

I sense that somehow he knows we're together, watching sports together one final time, doing what we love together one final time, and I think that brings both of us peace and comfort.

Sports really don't matter, until they do. Until they bring fathers and sons together. Until they help bind friends and families together. Until they bring peace at the confluence of time and eternity.

It's an honor to be next to you tonight Dad. I'm your biggest fan. You'll always be #1 to me.