Major League Baseball's trade deadline closed on Monday at 6 p.m. Eastern time, ending several weeks in which every player with a functioning shoulder was described as both untouchable and available for the right offer.

Boston acquired catcher Adley Rutschman. Philadelphia added Luis Arraez. San Diego collected Robbie Ray and Casey Mize, while the Dodgers had already acquired Tarik Skubal. The deadline therefore proceeded according to baseball law: teams seeking help found players, and everyone immediately began asking what had happened to competitive balance.

The Red Sox received a three-time All-Star catcher. The Phillies received one of baseball's most dependable contact hitters. The Padres received pitching depth. The Dodgers received another reason for opponents to check the schedule, sigh, and make a sandwich instead.

A trade deadline is presented as a market, but it more closely resembles a neighbourhood moving day conducted by adults who have memorised prospect rankings. Every club believes it has improved its address while secretly wondering why the previous owner was so keen to leave.

Buyers insist the acquired player is exactly what the roster lacked. Sellers insist the prospects received are exactly what the organisation required. Both claims may be true. This has never prevented either side from explaining the trade as if they had negotiated the purchase of the moon.

The deadline also gives baseball its annual reminder that a prospect is simultaneously a future star, a deeply serious asset and a person who may be asked to relocate because two executives liked each other's spreadsheets.

Philadelphia will expect Arraez to create opportunities for Bryce Harper and Kyle Schwarber. Boston will expect Rutschman to improve a catching group that had not, until that moment, contained Adley Rutschman. These are reasonable ambitions, which is why the next six weeks will make them feel immediately dangerous.

San Diego's activity made sense for a club that had moved within a game of a wild-card place. The Padres acquired the sort of pitching depth every contender seeks in August: enough arms to make a bullpen look reassuring until the first of them develops a minor concern that requires a sentence beginning with 'tightness'.

The deadline is over now. General managers may return to ordinary life, which consists of defending the trades they have just made and receiving calls about the players they said were unavailable. Baseball has restored order. Everyone has somebody else's problem, and it now fits perfectly on the roster.