CSI Substack: Chance Murdered in Broad Daylight. Possible Motive Identified.

Perp Leaves Clues in Super Bowl Saga : "Follow the Safeties, Count the 12s, and Beware of Statistical Corpses"—King County P.D.

May 13, 2025

This post is the second in a series that begins here.

Our second case study continues.

In our first post, we showed that thirty straight Super Bowls combine to form a cluster of three meaningful macro patterns—whose combined improbability is less than 1 in 3.6 trillion. For comparison, p = 0.05 (or 1 in 20) is the formal scientific threshold for rejecting randomness.

What we’ve uncovered isn’t just a statistical anomaly. It’s a scientifically defined statistical miracle— a data set that proves non-randomness in a setting that mainstream thinkers and academics alike strongly believe must be governed by chance only.

A wrong conclusion, in other words, as our trusty A.I. peer reviewer, Co-Pilot, agrees. This Super Bowl data set doesn’t just obliterate the chance interpretation. In doing so, it leaves a permanent, irreparable dent in classical science itself.

🕵️‍♂️ The Case Files (Detective Edition)

So, despite our deeply rooted cultural bias—both inside and outside academia—we’ve uncovered data that soundly defeats chance a second time, even in domains where we’ve all been conditioned to believe outcomes must always be random.

With chance, and the theories that rely on it, off the table, it becomes not only legitimate but necessary to consider other possibilities. And as it turns out, one alternative explanation speaks directly to our shared mental wiring—that we appear to be considering some kind of 30-year plan.

Next, let’s look at this non-random data set as if we were:

1️⃣ Actual detectives, or

2️⃣ Couch potatoes watching a really compelling true-crime show, CSI Substack, perhaps.

Here’s the expandable murder board, so to speak. Somewhat apt, since since chance has just received a second death penalty.

The Case of the 30 Straight Super Bowls

In this episode, the perpetrator decides to go big.

Real big.

The perp uses no fewer than 30 straight editions of America’s most-watched annual event—the Super Bowl—to thoroughly and publicly demolish the null hypothesis, in terms that speak to how our brains are wired when we think as detectives... or sofa surfers.

Let’s switch it up.

Imagine a small town where someone paints “SB” on the door of city hall on a specific date. The janitor scrubs it off. Then—same thing, same date, the next year. And again. Early on, nobody catches the pattern. “Kids, probably,” they say. But eventually someone notices: it’s always the same date. This adds another layer of order to intent to the common outcome, of seeing SB (instead of consecutive wins et cetera).

Soon, as that date rolls around, the town starts to buzz. “Will the SB Striker hit again?” And every year, like clockwork—they do. Same day, same letters. Never caught. The date becomes the anchor, a second calling card to go with the recurring outcome, SB. This keeps up for over a quarter-century.

Then, in years 28, 29, and 30... the perp adds “SB-12.” After that? Silence. No more strikes.

End of analogy.

A very similar thing has happened under America’s collective nose, through something other than, and much, much bigger than paint and a small town door.

I do not insist that the Super Bowl meta sync is a plan, however. That would be unscientific. We must always be open to there possibly being other ways of explaining data, other than what may seem to be obvious.

What I can insist on, is that this pattern very strongly resembles a plan, in ways that trigger how our brains are fundamentally wired. That’s a crucial detail. I’m not talking about how my brain is wired. I’m talking about our collective brain, or what that other Carl, Jung, may have called the collective conscious.

Noteworthy vs. Relevant

At a glance, this meta pattern seems to be purely noteworthy. In this way it contrasts to our first case study, where the Tim Tebow “316” story is centered on the clear relevance of John 3:16.

As far as the Super Bowl meta sync is concerned, the real-life facts are as follows.

First, the NFC wins thirteen straight Super Bowls.

Then, starting with the very next one, the NFC wins fourteen straight coin tosses.

And then three consecutive Super Bowls safeties whose rarity, when the 12s are noted, surpasses the first two streaks in terms of improbability.

Three distinct and noteworthy sub-patterns emerged. Put them together, and it’s no longer just “interesting”—it’s statistically alarming.

For appearing at the very end of a 30-year string, the ordinal placement of the 12s seems to invite careful consideration. As such placement certainly would in the case of our small town analogy, where 12s are added to SB in the final three instances.

That said, the Super Bowl safeties’ 12s don’t seem to carry any clearly relevant meaning. They certainly add another layer of improbability, and one that looks quite fishy, when one considers the rarity of three straight safeties and the two streaks that immediately preceded them.

And so we should ask, Are these 12s are being called to our collective attention?

We’d certainly think this way—instantly—if these results had a simple, prosaic explanation. In fact, most of us would laugh off any suggestion that the 12s were being deliberately brought to our attention.

Let’s take a closer look at the safeties.

The 12-Based Super Bowl Safety Trio

The first safety in this remarkable streak comes in Super Bowl 46—and it doesn’t exactly sneak in the back door. It begins with none other than Tom Brady, the most successful Super Bowl quarterback of all time. At the time, Brady was not only wearing jersey number 12, he was also in his 12th NFL season.

As we noted earlier, when it comes to macro syncs, details must be “significant” to the local group—in this case, NFL fans. Both of Brady’s twelves clearly meet that test.

The second safety arrives in Super Bowl 47 and carries its own significant 12. This time, it’s about the clock: the play began with exactly 12 seconds remaining in the game.

Then comes the third act. Our final consecutive safety occurs exactly 12 seconds into Super Bowl 48. And once again, our perp doubles down: it was scored by Knowshon Moreno, the 12th overall pick in his NFL draft class.

Here are the safety plays for those who may want to look.

Making sense of 12:

This whole business of 12s starts to make a lot of sense, in terms of how we are wired to think, when one considers the final safety. A very cogent argument can be made that the the trio of 12-based safety plays was meant to foreshadow the Seattle Seahawks’ victory in Super Bowl 48. In a scenario where such intent was reinforced by the earlier streaks whose combined rarity is one Super Bowl every 134 million years.

Here’s all you need to know, Substackers:

The National Football League’s Seattle Seahawks are extremely well known for their affinity with the number 12. This is not some subjective interpretation by an individual trying to make a case. It is another objective fact.

As many NFL fans know,

those Seattle people:

have a thing.

about.

12.

A big-time thing.

We’re talking full-on number worship.

For around a half-century now Seahawks fans have been calling themselves the 12th Man (or now, more legally precise: “The 12s”). The Seahawks retired the number 12 in 1984, in honor of their fans. Seahawks nation has built an entire cultural identity around this very particular number—complete with flags, tattoos, and an emotional frequency that can register on the Richter scale during home games.

This whole 12-thing has long since bled into every level of public life in Washington State—school boards, PTA bake sales, frat parties. To suggest that this 12-related connection, between 12 and Seattle Seahawk football, is contrived or subjective flies in the face of what is obvious to all. You can’t get elected to anything north of Tacoma without pledging allegiance to “the 12s.” If you’re ever thinking of running for mayor of Seattle, consider changing your last name to something 12-adjacent. Think Tammy Twelverson. Or Dave Duzin. All levels of society have been affected:

In terms of our taxonomy, this connection between the Seahawks and the number 12 is an objectively meaningful group-level relevant association. This is not subjective. It’s not about some Substacker reaching for straws to make a case.

As with the best group-level data, common agreement can be reasonably imposed. It is literally unreasonable to suggest that the Seahawks fan base doesn’t have a thing about the number 12. It’s almost as unreasonable to suggest that they might not. The evidence is so publicly available that fence-sitters who try the latter forfeit their seat at the grown-up table—on the grounds of excessive laziness.

Excessive Crowd Noise and the Twelves’ Monday Night Football Miss

Here’s a little backstory that many Twelves proudly remember like the gospel. And yet, those who recite it have been missing a key detail—one I’ll now share.

A little over a decade ago, as NFL fans may recall, there was this friendly little arms race happening between Kansas City and Seattle fans. The goal? To set (and re-set) the Guinness World Record for crowd noise.

Enter: Monday Night Football. December 2, 2013. Seahawks vs. Saints, and the 12th Man was in full vocal stampede mode.

That night, in front of millions of live viewers across the nation, the Seahawks’ faithful set a new world record for stadium noise—137.6 decibels.

It was loud. It was proud—a declaration of identity, of shared purpose, and twelvy things.

Side Bar: In our first case study, we noted how Tim Tebow’s 316 passing yards in a Denver-Pittsburgh game got people reminiscing about an earlier time when Tebow famously wore John 3:16 on his face. A similar numerical coincidence emerged in this Monday Night Football game—though in a far more discreet fashion. New Orleans Saints quarterback Drew Brees finished the night with exactly 144 passing yards.

On what just happened to be Seattle’s 144th birthday.

That’s right—Seattle was officially incorporated on December 2, 1869, and this unexpected alignment adds yet another objectively significant connection to the mix.

What perfect, almost poetic timing. And when considering the improbability—that necessary second condition—144-year anniversaries only come along once every 52,595 days, give or take a day for leap years.

There is more

While the 12th Man was busy reclaiming the Loudness Throne from Kansas City—which I hear Chiefs Nation has claimed back—the very city where you shattered the world record was exactly 12 × 12 × 12 months old.

The cat’s out of the bag now, Seattle.

This story went down two months before the completion of our 30-year Super Bowl meta sync. During what was, and still is, the only regular season when the Seattle Seahawks and the Twelves won a Super Bowl.

Note how this trifecta of 12s echoes that 12-based Super Bowl safety trio that capped off our Super Bowl meta sync.

There’s a really important second takeaway here.

Macro syncs and meta syncs aren’t just occasionally noteworthy or group-relevant (or both)—they also show up in religious and non-religious ways. Our first case study was a textbook example of the former. This one? Clearly the latter. So far, anyway.

When we think like detectives, it really does look as if the 30-straight Super Bowl sync was meant to address Seattle’s affinity for 12 and their one Super Bowl victory. At the very least, the three 12-based safeties seem to strongly hint at that—speaking not only to our mental wiring, but doing so in a way that’s underscored by what went down on Seattle’s 12 x 12 x 12th birthday.

This is the other side of synchronicity that must be considered. The best syncs, I’ve found, reveal more than just data that defies chance and shatters the expectations of classical science—by science’s own rules. They often take on the appearance of great art, like scripts that not even Hollywood could make up.

Speaking of great art, there’s actually much more to this Super Bowl meta sync.

We’ll discuss that in our next post.