LAKEWOOD — Bruins by birth and brothers forever, Wyatt and Walker Rudden celebrated their last game together on a baseball diamond with dueling backflips.

“A backflip,” Walker told me, “is something cool that not everybody can do.”

Nobody does backflips and baseball with more flair than the Rudden boys.

Cherry Creek High also did what it does best Saturday, when the Bruins won the 249th state championship in school history.

With Wyatt on the mound as Creek’s starting pitcher and his kid brother behind him at second base, the Bruins beat Regis Jesuit 8-1 at Keli McGregor Field to take home the Class 5A trophy for the second year in a row.

Before the trophy presentation, however, the Rudden brothers put a loud and proud exclamation point on the victory by gathering two of their acrobatic teammates behind third base.

With Wyatt barking the countdown to lift-off, this quartet of Bruins jumped for joy and stuck the landing on backflips that would make Olympic gold medalist Simone Biles proud.

“That’s a trick we have in our bag. We always do backflips after a win,” said Wyatt, proud of a celebration that has become a Bruins trademark.

“My brother and I learned to do backflips during the COVID year back in 2020. I think it was a result of being overly bored. So we’d get out of the house to get some fresh air and learn a new trick.”

Born 16 months apart and as close as two brothers can be without being twins, Wyatt and Walker both came out of the womb with baseball and the Bruins in their DNA.

Their father was a prep star on the diamond for legendary Creek coach Marc Johnson, who retired in 2024 after winning the last of his nine state championships.

“My brother and I do everything together. We spend every day together, play sports together, hang out together, our rooms at home are right next to each other,” said Walker, who broke into the starting lineup during the course of a season that saw the Bruins win 23 of 29 games.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re super different people. And we butt heads sometimes. But he’s like a built-in best friend. I’m super lucky to have somebody in my life who pushes me to be better. For as long as I can remember, he has brought me with him everywhere he goes, even when he didn’t really want me to be tagging along.”

After squeezing the sparks out of two tense victories, each by a single run, against Regis earlier this season, Creek blew open the championship game with three tallies in the bottom of the third inning.

The boom-goes-the-dynamite noise was an explosion off the bat of designated hitter Lucas Schultz, who smashed a ground-rule double that bounced over the left field fence on a single bound.

As Schultz pumped his fists for joy while standing on second base, the outcome was not yet decided, but the party certainly was on.

And this party was straight fire, ignited by Wyatt.

When he picks up the baseball and toes the rubber, Wyatt brings the heat on his fastball with the ferocity of a tackle by Hall of Fame linebacker Randy Gradishar.

“He’s a nice, friendly, cool guy. But on the field, when the game starts, he flips a switch and goes after hitters. He doesn’t care who you are or what you’re about,” Walker said. “(My brother) just goes and shoves it down your throat every single game. And I love it.”

Truth be told, Wyatt regularly painted himself into a corner with six walks in five innings against Regis. But he laughed at the trouble, allowing only a single run on three hits.

The Raiders mounted what would prove to be their last serious chance of a game-changing rally in the top of the fifth.

Trailing 5-1, Regis loaded the bases with one out against Wyatt.

“I had to battle throughout the whole game,” he said. “So in key moments, I had to bring my best stuff and bear down.”

Bear down? This guy is a Bruin who roars like a Grizzly.

Refusing to blink with the bases jammed, Wyatt overwhelmed pinch hitter Deion Cesario-Scott on a four-pitch strikeout.

Then, after he induced a harmless ground ball to the right side of the infield to end the inning, Wyatt strutted off the mound, cupping his hand to an ear pointed at a suddenly silent Regis dugout.

“This is so cool,” Wyatt said. “Playing baseball with my brother one last time for the state championship, I can’t think of a better way to end it.”

For those of you keeping score at home with your heart, that final pitch of Wyatt’s work in the championship game was fielded with the sure hands of his kid brother, who confidently flipped the baseball to the shortstop for the force out.

“His last pitch in high school was a ground ball to me,” said Walker, eyes dancing as he relived the moment. “It’s something I will remember forever.”