I’ve always been drawn to the seedy world inhabited by private eyes. Cracking cases, following unsavory characters to the horse races, drinking during the day, the life of a hard-boiled detective possessed a rare blend of degenerate and dignity that appealed to me. Unfortunately, that dream never morphed into reality, mostly because I don’t look good in a trench coat and am routinely confused by puzzles and general trickery. Maybe I’ll never solve a murder or get to say the world ‘dame’ while pretending I like cigars, but there’s one mystery I’m more than equipped to solve: The confounding case of how Shawn Hunter got into Super Bowl 32.

This perplexing pop culture quandary emanates from the Season 5 episode of Boy Meets World titled “The Eskimo,” which is now streaming on Hulu. This memorable offering centered around beloved ’90s father figure Mr. Feeny giving noted mischief-maker Shawn Hunter a seemingly impossible assignment:

Classic Feeny. Against all odds, Shawn almost wins a pair of tickets by being the last remaining contestant to withstand the freezing Pennsylvania cold atop a billboard. Unfortunately, the last participant standing in Shawn’s way is an Eskimo eating an ice cream cone. Defeated, Shawn gives up as he comes to the realization that there’ll always be an Eskimo standing in his way.

Eventually, young Mr. Hunter realizes that nothing his impossible. He decides he’s going to the Super Bowl, tickets be damned. During the closing credits, it’s revealed that Shawn had somehow made it from Philadelphia to San Diego and found his way into the sold-out game. He even held up a sign that said, “Hey, Feeny. Nothing’s impossible.” He should have added a “Mr.” to that sign because, you know, respect, but still, it was pretty dope.

Boy Meets World, however, never explicitly explained how Shawn got into the game. The internet has been an inferno of speculation about this topic for over twenty years.

Sick burn, Don’tWantToSeeYourCat.

Much like Shawn Hunter, I attempted to achieve the impossible by solving this 20-year mystery, but I encountered more than my fair share of Eskimos. First, I emailed twelve different PR reps attempting to contact Jeff Menell, the writer of the episode, or Michael Jacobs, the creator of Boy Meets World. I was unsuccessful. Odd that a group of insanely busy professionals didn’t want to make time to chit-chat with a total stranger about a 20-year old sitcom episode, right? The world is a crazy place.

Like any good detective worth their salt, I decided to take a different approach. A more direct path to success:

No response. It probably didn’t help that my previous tweet was “Win a Date with Tad Hamilton is a good movie.” Live, learn, etc.

I was in a real pickle. My article was due in the morning and I had nothing. If I couldn’t find someone from the show to give me answers, I decided I’d reach out to an expert in the field of subterfuge to potentially explain how Shawn could have pulled off this feat: a magician. Armed with a devil-may-care attitude and desperation, I googled the term “magician contact?” which is what I assume Olivia Benson would do. That led me to a fellow by the name of Magic Mike Jacobson,* who according to his website is an award-winning magician and not a stripper. If anyone could help shed some light on how a person could sneak into one of most secure locations in the United States, it would be an award-winning magician, right?

Wrong. They say a magician never reveals his secrets, and evidently one of those secrets is RESPONDING TO EMAILS.

I was out of options. After vowing to never again put my fate in the unscrupulous hands of a magician, I decided to email a New York City dermatologist who happened to share the same name as the creator of Boy Meets World to get his take on this mystery. That way, I thought, like a stone-cold dummy, I could say that even though I didn’t get a comment from thee Michael Jacobs, I did receive a comment from a Michael Jacobs. In retrospect, this was the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life… and I once went crowd-surfing at a Bowling For Soup concert. But before I could hit send and annoy a “Board Certified dermatologist with extensive experience in office practice, research, and education,” an email from Michael Jacobs (BMW creator not doctor) arrived in my inbox. A kind soul forwarded my email to him, and just like Mr. Feeny leaning over the fence to impart some sage wisdom to Cory Matthews, he gave me the answer I’d been seeking.

“’The Eskimo’ is one of my favorite episodes of the series,” Jacobs wrote. “Feeny’s students believing the second half of high school senior year should coast by. There is nothing left to teach them. So Feeny goes past the bonds of their friendship to instruct them to trust themselves as individuals. Do the impossible or why bother? So, although it doesn’t matter how it was done, just that Shawn made the attempt and defeated his own inner Eskimo, let me tell you what I always thought he did. No secret that Shawn’s relatives are on the shady side, so certainly one of them could’ve come up with an upper deck end zone seat, but Shawn had better than that. How? Well, don’t forget, a year earlier, Shawn was in the good graces of the mob. I always figured he called Mr. Fontaine and Mr. Martini (Buddy Hackett and Soupy Sales) and they put their boy right on the fifty yard line. So, in the end, the lesson is that if you put your mind to it, nothing is impossible. It also doesn’t hurt to be connected.”

The mob! Of course Shawn used his mob connections to snag a Super Bowl ticket. That’s just classic Hunter. I had done it. I heroically solved the case that’s bedeviled some of the most brilliant minds in the world. I had become both the Woodward and Bernstein of pop culture journalism. But there was a problem. Mr. Feeny said two tickets. Shawn’s assignment wasn’t to go to the game, it was to come up with two Super Bowl tickets. I once again reached out to my new best friend and possible mentor to ask if Shawn had procured a second ticket, and wouldn’t ya know it? He did.

“Turns out that the radio station put the Eskimo in the end zone and Shawn, seeing him there, gave him his second ticket on the 50 yard line,” Jacobs told me. “The Eskimo, impressed, bought Shawn an ice cream cone.”

Case closed.

Cory Matthews may have met the world, but today, we all became further acquainted with a plucky star-spangled hero I like to call the truth. Class dismissed.

*UPDATE: After I published this article, Magic Mike Jacobson responded to my request with a helpful and humorous email. I recommend him for most if not all of your magician needs.

Watch "The Eskimo" on Hulu