Shawn couldn't believe he was here. It had cost him almost every dollar he had, just to buy these plane tickets. But he had to go to the Superbowl. Not just because it was Feeny's assignment, although that's the way it started. But because Shawn was a kid from a trailer park. He'd always been second-class. Sure, Topanga and the Matthews had treated him OK, but he knew the truth. People from trailer parks just didn't go far in life. Up till now, Shawn had been OK with that. But somehow, up on that billboard, as he'd nearly frozen to death in an attempt to win tickets, he'd come to a realization.
He could only be second-class if he accepted that. But if he pushed himself a little bit more, then maybe, just maybe, he could escape that. The point was, he had to try. It even sort of made him understand his dad a bit more. Shawn had thought his dad was crazy when he left, traipsing all over the country after his wife. But Shawn thought he understood now. His dad could've either accepted that the love of his life was gone, or go after her. And Chet Hunter had gone after her. Same as his son was doing now with the Superbowl.
The plane had landed in San Diego before reality began to hit him. Sure, he'd gotten here, but now he had no plan. Usually, Cory was there to offer advice at just the right moment. But right now, Cory was three thousand miles away, in Philadelphia. Shawn Hunter was on his own. Luckily, growing up poor had its advantages. One of them being that it made a person a bit more resourceful than normal. Where Cory had had loving parents always around to offer whatever help they could, Shawn had learned early on that he had to count on himself. It also didn't hurt that a few of his relatives had a slightly shakier relationship with the law than most. Ticket scalping was illegal. Everyone knew that. But still, people did it all the time. Shawn managed to scrape together cab fare to the stadium. Now he really was almost out of money. But he had faith.
When he arrived at the football stadium, it was already crowded, although the game wasn't until tomorrow. He looked around, wondering what he should do next.
But he didn't wonder for long. A man walked up to Shawn wearing a beat-up denim jacket and an old T-shirt. Immediately Shawn was reminded of his dad. "Hey, kid, you looking for a ticket?"
"Yeah, I am," Shawn said, unable to believe his luck.
"Good, 'cause I got one." The man held up the small, yet incredibly valuable piece of paper.
"How much do you want?" Shawn reached into his pocket, pulling out the small wad of bills that remained.
"Keep your money." The man pushed Shawn's hand away. "I was gonna go to this game with my kid, but my wife left me yesterday. Took my son with her. I got no use for the ticket now. I just had a feeling there would be someone here who'd want it." He handed over the ticket.
Shawn couldn't believe it. He actually held a ticket to the Superbowl in his hand. If only Feeny could see this, he thought."This is incredible," he said under his breath.
"Here," the man said, reaching into his pocket again. "Take my ticket, too. I don't want to go to this game alone. Sell it to someone else here, make yourself a couple bucks."
"Are you sure? This thing's worth a lot of money."
"I never had much use for money. I know what's like to have to do without, and I got a feeling you do, too."
Shawn nodded solemnly. "Thanks. I came here on a whim, I had no idea how I was going to pull this off. This is like a miracle."
The man shrugged. "Glad somebody still believes in miracles. I used to, from the day my kid was born. But I guess miracles don't last."
Shawn looked this stranger in the eye. "My teacher taught me something recently. He taught me that nothing's impossible. Not even for a kid from a trailer park. If you want something, you just have to go after it. Otherwise, you'll never know."
"I don't know about that. My wife was pretty mad when she left."
"Two days ago, I would've said there was no way I'd get to the Superbowl, but here I stand, with two tickets in my hand. You never know," Shawn said.
The man thought of his son. The boy was somewhere out there, maybe all the way across the country by now. But there was something about this strange boy's expression, something that made him seem sincere, like he really knew what he was talking about. Maybe for him, those tickets were a miracle. Then he thought of something else. If he gave up now, he might never get to see his only son grow up. That was heartbreaking. But if what this kid was saying was true, then maybe it was worth a shot. "Well, I guess I could make a couple of calls," he finally said.
Shawn smiled. "That's the spirit. Just keep trying."
The man extended his hand. "Thanks, son. I mean it. By the way, name's Chet."
Shawn's eyebrows raised immediately. "Interesting name. I'm Shawn. And good luck to you." He accepted the handshake.
"Thanks. Enjoy the game." With that, Chet walked away.
Shawn watched the man go, unable to believe the number of coincidences in that short conversation. But it only proved Mr. Feeny's point. Nothing was impossible, and Shawn had the tickets to prove it.
The End