A little more than five years ago, Jeremy Lin, then a guard for the New York Knicks, had one of the most remarkable weeks that the N.B.A. has ever seen. An undrafted player who had received, up to that point, little playing time, Lin was inserted into the starting lineup in a moment of franchise desperation and immediately began scoring more than twenty points a game, leading the struggling Knicks on an unlikely winning streak. In the third of his starts, Lin scored thirty-eight points in a win over Kobe Bryant and the Los Angeles Lakers that aired on national television. “With 38 Points, the Legend Grows,” the Times declared. “Linsanity” had taken hold.

Joe Lin, Jeremy’s younger brother, caught the last few minutes of that game on a TV in his dorm room, in Clinton, New York. He had just finished his own game, as a freshman guard for Hamilton College. A few days later, Joe and a handful of his Hamilton teammates put the Knicks game against the Toronto Raptors on a projector during study hall, and Joe watched Jeremy hit the game-winning shot. Over the next few weeks, as Jeremy landed on the covers of Sports Illustrated and Time, Joe was figuring out his own future, switching from shooting guard to point guard and declaring a major in economics while taking art classes to sustain his interest in painting and illustration.

Since then, Jeremy has played for the Houston Rockets, the Los Angeles Lakers, the Charlotte Hornets, and the Brooklyn Nets, signing, over that stretch, three contracts worth roughly thirty-eight million dollars. Joe, too, has continued to pursue his basketball dreams. The summer after his junior year, he travelled to Taiwan with his brother for Jeremy’s annual Asia tour, a three-week event that Jeremy launched after that magical season with the Knicks. On the trip, Joe got the chance to play against professional teams in Taiwan, and he caught the attention of the Fubon Braves, a semi-pro team in Taiwan’s Super Basketball League. Joe had thought that after college he might study graphic design, or open a restaurant, or become a professional gamer. Instead, in the summer of 2015, shortly after graduating, he signed a contract to play professional basketball in Taiwan.

In his two seasons with the Braves, Joe has learned to adjust once again. “The playing style is very different,” he told me recently, adding, “It’s very fast paced. It’s been a bit of a transition process.” In his first season, he scored twelve points a game; this past year, he played in thirty games and averaged eleven points and four assists, then averaged fifteen points in three playoff games. These are serviceable numbers, but Joe won’t be joining his brother in the N.B.A. anytime soon. Still, he’s intent on making the most of his window of opportunity to play basketball. He has his sights set on perhaps getting a shot in the Chinese Basketball Association, on the mainland.

Joe, Jeremy, and their older brother, Josh, were all introduced to basketball by their father, Gie-Ming, who started watching basketball in 1971, as a college student in Taiwan. At the time, Taiwan did not broadcast N.B.A. games, but Gie-Ming would catch the highlight packages. Later, he studied videos of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Adrian Dantley to improve his hook shot, which he tried out in pickup games at local gyms. In 1977, he moved to Virginia to attend Old Dominion University, where he met his wife, Shirley.

Joe remembers his dad emphasizing the importance of developing a hook shot when he played with his brothers as a kid. The three of them played Twenty-one and HORSE at street-ball courts and at open gyms. After youth group at church, they would play basketball until two in the morning. Josh, who is now a pediatric dentistry resident at U.C.L.A., told me that the brothers spent nearly all of their time together. If they weren’t playing basketball, they were playing the Defense of the Ancients, a multi-player online game, or one of various Super Mario games on the Nintendo. “We were each other’s best friends,” Josh said.

“I just assumed every sibling relationship was like ours,” Jeremy told me. “As I got older, I started to see some of my friends and family, and I realized ours is definitely different.”

In Joe’s first year overseas, his mother moved to Taiwan to stay with him, attending almost all of his games in person. This season, she has returned home to the states, and Gie-Ming has taken her place in Taiwan. Shirley listed leadership, physical strength, and three-point shooting as the things that she thought Joe could improve. Gie-Ming told me that he wants Joe to be quicker on catch-and-shoots, to use more off-ball screens to find open shots, and, most important, to develop “a mid-range hook shot with either hand.”

The brothers still organize video-game dates, sometimes playing Defense of the Ancients for entire days when their schedules manage to line up. Other days, they have Bible-study sessions together. Last summer, they took a trip to Iceland, and Josh is planning to visit Joe in Taiwan in late March. During the past N.B.A. season, Jeremy missed more than forty games due to injury, and the extended rest allowed him to spend more time watching and studying his younger brother’s play. Jeremy regularly put together game clips to review with Joe over Skype. He also counsels his younger brother about off-the-court matters. “I want him to be able to grow spiritually, to be able to resist the temptation and pressure of being a public figure,” he said.

Gie-Ming, having successfully passed his passion for basketball on to his three sons, is a proud father. “The efforts were not in vain,” he told me. In Taiwan, he said, academics were emphasized at the expense of sports, and he saw the same attitude among many of the Chinese families he knew in California. Co-workers would wonder why Gie-Ming was investing so much time in his sons’ pursuit of basketball when it seemed that, for Asian-American kids, it would never lead anywhere. “The public perception of Chinese and Asian families is that they are good at academics but not good at sports,” he said. “We have two sons playing professional basketball. One is unlikely in an Asian family. Two is almost unimaginable.”