2025 Athletics Walk-off Diamondbacks for 55+ Arizona MSBL Title
Arizona MSBL, 55+ Division
‘A’s Walk Off Diamondbacks in Game Three Thriller, while Hinckley Dominates and Sachwitz Delivers Series-Clincher’
Thursday, September 11 – Salt River Field – After a dispiriting 12–9 loss on Monday night in game two of the best of three finals, a game in which nothing seemed to click, Player-Manager Michael DiMino and his Athletics returned home and finally reached the summit with a spine tingling, comeback, walk-off 8–7 victory over the two-time defending Diamondbacks. Before seven devoted fans, fourteen teammates moved in a singular, almost miraculous rhythm. They combined skill, moxie, and resolve in a performance that was as much about unity as it was about talent, carrying themselves to a title that will resonate through the history of the club for generations.
For three days, the team endured the peddlers of pessimism in the local and national press, each word another shovel of dirt on their grave. But the joke was on them. This A’s club was different. They had roared through the season undefeated with seventeen wins and two more in the playoffs, a gritty band of dirt dogs bound by pre-game wiffle ball and post-game “Dude Time” skull sessions that would have made Branch Rickey proud. And when it came down to a single game for the championship, these fourteen knew exactly what they were capable of.
Rainouts had reshuffled the postseason, leaving the A’s short-handed as other obligations collided with the delayed schedule. DiMino and his trusted bench coach, Chris Means, spent long hours consulting with the analytics department, plotting every permutation to get the team’s best offense, defense, and pitching on the field. Thankfully, the dugout was filled with players who were anything but ordinary, Swiss Army knives of skill and versatility, ready to take on whatever role was asked of them and execute it with precision.
Brian Hinckley drew the pitching assignment in the decisive game and, in the clubhouse beforehand, pledged to his teammates that he would give them everything he had, even, he joked, his last breath on the mound if that’s what it took. The Diamondbacks wasted no time reminding everyone why they had worn the crown the past two seasons. After a strikeout to open the game, they strung together five hits around an error and a hit batsman, pushing across four runs before Hinckley finally ended the rally by blowing three fastballs past the final hitter. When the A’s went quietly in the bottom half, it seemed a long night might be ahead.
But Hinckley steadied himself. In the second, he struck out the leadoff man, then leapt from the mound to field two grounders for quick outs. Leading off the bottom of the inning, he laced a clean single, though the A’s couldn’t move him along as the next three hitters went down in order.
Hinckley opened the third by ranging off the mound to field a grounder for the first out. A single, a hit batter, and a groundout then put two runners in scoring position, and when a two-strike foul popup fell untouched, the inning teetered. Hinckley never blinked. He gripped the ball, snapped off a slider, and fanned the Diamondbacks’ fifth hitter on the next pitch to strand the threat and pick up his team.
The A’s carried that resilience straight into the bottom half. Old Folks Gary May led off with a hard grounder that was bobbled at short, and he hustled his way safely to first. Ricky Urias followed by driving a pitch to the fence deep into left, racing into third with a stand-up triple that finally put the A’s on the board. Jeff Gilbert then lined a single into right-center to cut the deficit in half. Kirk Bridges added a single to right, and after an out, Doug Harmon and Pepi delivered back-to-back RBI hits to complete the comeback and tie the game at four.
By the fourth, Hinckley was pitching like a man chasing destiny. He mowed down the Diamondbacks in order, twice darting off the mound to snare grounders and fire to first as if the ball were magnetized to his glove. And then the A’s struck. David Wasinger reached on an error, stole second, and set the stage for Scott Sachwitz, the heart patient turned comeback story who was activated just that morning. Sachwitz lined a single to center that brought the dugout to its feet and gave the A’s their first lead of the night, 5–4. When May dropped down a sacrifice bunt to move him up, Urias drilled another clutch hit, cashing in Sachwitz and sending the crowd into a frenzy as the scoreboard flipped to 6–4.
Hinckley answered in the fifth with more tenacity. He handled a pop-up himself for the first out, and when the next batter ripped a triple, the Diamondbacks seemed poised to strike. But Hinckley wriggled free again, inducing a short fly to Gilbert in left, issuing a careful walk, then blowing away the next hitter with high heat to strand two and leave the defending champs shaking their heads. The A’s nearly tacked on in the bottom half, rallying with two outs as Hinckley smoked a double to deep center field, Ted Calvert worked a walk, and Wasinger poked a single to load the bases. But the big hit didn’t come, and the margin held steady at two.
Still clinging to a two-run cushion, the A’s found themselves in the fire again in the sixth. The Diamondbacks opened with back-to-back singles, and a stolen base put runners on second and third with nobody out and the heart of the order digging in. Hinckley refused to blink. He struck out the first man, and DiMino ordered an intentional walk to load the bases, playing for a double play. With the season hanging in the balance, Hinckley coaxed a harmless pop to short, then sprang off the mound to snare a dribbler in front of the plate, rifling a throw to first to snuff out the rally. The crowd exhaled, the A’s dugout erupted, and Hinckley walked off the mound pumping his fist.
The A’s bats, however, stayed quiet, going down in order in the bottom half as the slow-moving game ticked into the seventh, every out now feeling like a heavyweight’s body blow.
The seventh brought more danger, and again the Diamondbacks looked ready to break through. A leadoff single followed by a muffed grounder at first put runners on the corners with nobody out. But Hinckley wasn’t budging. He bowed his neck, fanned the next two hitters with pure fire, then coaxed a harmless grounder to short to escape once more. Houdini in cleats.
The A’s immediately tried to press the edge. Bridges singled to open the bottom half and was erased on a fielder’s choice, but DiMino stole second, then advanced to third on a passed ball. Harmon worked a determined walk, only to be rung up on a razor-thin pickoff call that sent the home crowd into a full-throated chorus of boos directed at the base umpire and questioning his eyesight. Pepi dug in and chopped a bouncer to short. When the ball was bobbled, he turned on the jets, beating the throw by half a step as DiMino crossed the plate with an insurance run. The A’s moved to the eighth ahead 7–4, the title suddenly within their grasp.
With curfew looming, the umpires announced that the eighth could be the final frame, no matter the outcome. A drained Hinckley surrendered a two-strike triple and then a run-scoring single, forcing DiMino to wave for Bob Larson out of the bullpen. What followed was chaos straight from a sandlot fire drill. Catcher May gave way to Calvert who strapped on the gear behind the plate after playing third, Wasinger slid from shortstop over to third, and Hinckley walked from the pitcher’s mound out to short. Larson walked the first hitter and with runners at first and second, he struck out the next two, seemingly steadying the ship. Then came a hit batter to load the bases and more controversy as the base ump inserted himself again, calling a balk that trimmed the lead to one. An intentional pass to the Diamondbacks’ three-hole hitter was followed by another walk, forcing in the tying run. And when the next batter lashed a liner toward the right side, it looked certain to break the A’s. But DiMino, positioned perfectly, speared it out of the air, ending the threat and preserving a 7–7 tie. Due to the length of the top of the inning, the umpires announced officially that the game, per curfew rules, would end with the bottom half. It was the A’s last chance.
Calvert opened with a shot to right, caught for the first out. Wasinger followed with a single, setting the stage for Sachwitz. For a club that preaches signs and execution over and over, many times the players freelance, much to the consternation of its Skipper. Tonight alone, they have missed the hit and run sign four different times. But this time Sachwitz, the grizzled veteran, would make sure. He called time, walked over to third base coach Mike “Roman” Sever, the rehabbing offensive captain, and confirmed they were on the same page. Sever, sly as ever, had the Diamondbacks convinced the bunt was coming. On the first pitch, Wasinger broke for second. Instead of squaring, Sachwitz uncoiled and ripped a liner down the left-field line. The A’s bench craned for the umpire’s call, and when the arm pointed fair, pandemonium broke loose. The ball rattled into the corner as Wasinger flew around the bases, never slowing until he crossed the plate with the winning run.
Sachwitz coasted into second, his head humbly bowed, as his teammates charged from the dugout. They mobbed him and Wasinger in a joyous scrum, the championship theirs at last. The roar echoed into the night. The kind of celebration not seen in these parts since Arizona first earned statehood in 1912.
The Athletics are 2025 League Champions, and what a way to win it. What a game. Superlatives and oddities spilled out all night. With a thin roster and players shuffled into spots they’d barely touched all year, the defense was tested from the first pitch. Fortunately, when your pitcher is doing just about everything himself, that helps.
Hinckley threw seven gritty, electric innings, recording 21 outs. Of those, eight came by strikeout, six were grounders he fielded personally, and one was a popup he snagged off the mound, 15 outs handled by Hinckley alone. Add in the two strikeouts from Larson in relief, and 17 of the night’s 24 outs were made by the pitching staff, an astonishing tally. The outfield trio of Gilbert, Means, and Urias? They were asked to handle exactly one fly ball all game, which Gilbert secured easily in the fifth. Otherwise, they collected hits without allowing any extra bases, hit their cutoffs, and Means directed traffic like an air-traffic controller in center perfectly positioning his wingmen.
The infield barely broke a sweat. Calvert saw one grounder at third and turned it into an out himself. DiMino speared the bases-loaded liner to save the eighth. Bridges and Pepi had only three ground balls to handle at first, besides catching perfect throws. Wasinger was the busiest of the bunch, with two popups and a grounder. Behind the plate, May worked the first seven innings, expertly guiding Hinckley through jams, even blocking balls with little more than bare skin. Calvert then strapped on the gear in the eighth, catching Larson’s strikeouts without a hitch. Three errors were scattered across the game, but no passed balls, no wild pitches, and just one run gifted. All told, the Diamondbacks stranded 16 runners across eight innings, a testament to the A’s mix-and-match defense and sheer stubbornness from the mound.
Hinckley’s night was a marvel. Yes, he surrendered 13 hits, but he walked only two, fanned eight, and time after time clawed out of trouble with big pitches and bigger heart. Larson entered in the eighth with the go ahead run looming, punched out two, stranded the bases loaded, and “vultured” the official win, his seventh of the season counting playoffs, triggering a tidy $10,000 performance clause in his contract.
And the offense? It was a true band of brothers. DiMino scored a big run and swiped a bag. Harmon chipped in a hit, a walk, and an RBI. Pep delivered an RBI single. Hinckley doubled and added two hits of his own. Calvert drew a timely walk. Wasinger collected two hits, scored twice, stole two bags, and touched the plate with the series-winner. Sachwitz, the comeback story of the year, had two hits, two RBI, and the game-winning double. May hustled to reach on an error and later scored, plus dropped a key sacrifice bunt. Urias got the rally rolling with a thundering RBI triple, then singled home another and scored himself. Gilbert added an RBI single, a walk, a stolen base, and a run. Bridges chipped in two hits and crossed the plate once. Sever ran the third-base coaching box like a seasoned general, flashing crisp signals and keeping his cool while his players treated the game like a suggestion box.
Every one of the 14 players in the A’s dugout had a hand in this championship clincher. A patchwork lineup, a ballsy pitching performance, and just enough timely hitting. It all added up to the DiMino-men’s first league championship!
Athletics Free Press – 2025 World Champion Athletics
After the obligatory photos, back-slapping, and general grab-ass, the A’s bolted to “Dude Time”, ready to celebrate like a team that had just survived a war. DiMino, of course, was off to make a McDonald’s run, returning triumphantly with double cheeseburgers and fries, while the rest of the team circled up, cautiously nibbling chocolate chip cookies baked by their season-ticket holder, pretending to savor something “healthy” while waiting for the real feast. When DiMino finally dumped three enormous bags of burgers and fries on the table, the party truly erupted.
Just three nights earlier, after the Game Two defeat, the team had confidently predicted they’d be back in 72 hours for the “real fun.” And here they were. All but two of the night’s heroes were present: Hinckley had ducked out for a pre-sunrise flight to Europe, graciously cleared by his better half so he could play the championship game, and Urias was off handling media interviews, taking one for the team so the rest of his teammates could enjoy uninterrupted revelry.
The next several hours were a blur of food, drink, and storytelling. Every tall tale grew taller with each toast as the A’s relived a season of 20 wins, one loss, and a tie. For veterans like DiMino, Means, and Gilbert, mainstays of the ballclub for over a decade, the championship was the perfect payoff for years of blood, sweat, and long bus rides.
By 2:30 a.m., the team was still jabbering, still toasting, still turning every slow roller from the season into a line drive off the outfield fence, or a 600-foot moonshot, signaling it was finally time to call it a night. What a group, what a season. As the team likes to remind each other, these are the best times of our lives: old guys playing baseball on perfectly manicured fields, teammates who care and fight for one another, and nights like this when winning feels like everything.
Next up is counting down the days until the end-of-month team party at DiMino’s, tournament baseball for most of the crew, and then a long pause until spring. 2025 League Champions — it has a very nice ring to it.