Once traded to the Angels, DeCinces falls over another kind of trade

DeCinces, while leading the Angels in home runs in 1986.

DeCinces, while leading the Angels in home runs in 1986.

Once upon a time, Doug DeCinces was known as the third baseman who bridged the gap (the words of the Society for American Baseball Research) between Orioles franchise icons. He succeeded Brooks Robinson until he was dealt to the Angels when the Orioles needed to make room for a franchise icon-in-waiting, Cal Ripken, Jr.

For a change, the Red Sox and the Orioles didn’t play beanball Thursday

Machado Thursday, hitting the third of his monstrous Fenway bombs this week . . .

Machado Thursday, hitting the third of his monstrous Fenway bombs this week . . .

Just when you thought there could be nothing more shocking, stupid, or staggering coming out of Fenway Park, the Red Sox and the Orioles had do go and do something completely unexpected Thursday night. They went out and played a baseball game. Just baseball. Nobody tried yet again to re-enact The Wild Ones.

Enough is enough?

Holbrook (34) facing Gausman (center right, just ejected), Joseph (36), and oncoming manager Buck Showalter, after Bogaerts got a slightly surprising plunk in the second.

Holbrook (34) facing Gausman (center right, just ejected), Joseph (36), and oncoming manager Buck Showalter, after Bogaerts got a slightly surprising plunk in the second.

The good news from Boston Wednesday: Manny Machado got to play a game against the Red Sox without one pitch sailing anywhere near him other than around the plate. The bad news: Orioles starter Kevin Gausman couldn’t resist opening the second inning by throwing the first pitch at Red Sox shortstop Xander Bogaerts’s hind quarters.

Now the Red Sox look like idiots, not Idiots

Plate umpire D.J. Rayburn gives the warnings emphatically, to the Red Sox and the Orioles, after the would-be kneecapping of Manny Machado by Chris Sale in the first inning. (Boston Globe photo.)

Plate umpire D.J. Reyburn gives the warnings emphatically, to the Red Sox and the Orioles, after the would-be kneecapping of Manny Machado by Chris Sale in the first inning. (Boston Globe photo.)

Someone needs to read these Red Sox the riot act. Or, at least, Tuesday night starting pitcher Chris Sale. First, Sale joined Fenway Park fans in showing Adam Jones of the Orioles some respect his first time up, in the top of the first, after Monday’s disgrace. Then, when Manny Machado batted right after Jones, same inning, Sale tried to kneecap Machado with a pitch.

Adam Jones vs. the fools in the Fens

Jones, making a running catch during Monday night's game, fumed over racial taunts and a bag of peanuts thrown at him during the game.

Jones, making a running catch during Monday night’s game, fumed over racial taunts and a bag of peanuts thrown at him during the game.

It’s safe to say people expected a little heat between the Red Sox and the Orioles at Fenway Park this week, considering the doings of two weekends ago. But I’m not sure what happened during Monday night’s skirmish—which the Orioles won, 5-2—was quite what they had in mind.

Machado, Pedroia, and respect won and lost

Matt Barnes attempting to decapitate Manny Machado Sunday . . .

Matt Barnes attempting to decapitate Manny Machado Sunday for a hard but not dirty slide Friday night . . .

I wonder if anyone noticed something during the Red Sox-Orioles series ender Sunday. Not Red Sox reliever Matt Barnes trying to decapitate Orioles third baseman Manny Machado in the eighth inning, but the way the Orioles handled the would-be brain scrambler.

They did nothing.

Machado, who isn’t exactly a shrinking violet when it comes to confronting pitchers he thinks get out of line with him, didn’t move a muscle toward Barnes.

Ding, dong, the Miami witch is dead—but almost had the Orioles

Loria, prepared to sell the Marlins, once bid to buy the Orioles.

Loria, prepared to sell the Marlins, once bid to buy the Orioles.

You may or may not remember this, but the first time baseball heard of Jeffrey Loria in earnest, it had to do with the Orioles, in the early to mid 1990s, when then-owner Eli Jacobs decided he had no choice but to sell the team in order to raise cash. John Helyar in The Lords of The Realm told the unlikely story, worth revisiting in light of the news that Loria wants to sell the Marlins and stands to make billions from the sale, as if to prove failure is profit.

Buck Showalter didn’t do Tuesday what he did do in July

Buck Showalter, after refusing to do Tuesday what he did in July cost him and his Orioles a season . . .Charlie Dressen (Ralph Branca over Carl Erskine, 1951), phone home. Casey Stengel (Jim Coates and Ralph Terry over Luis Arroyo, 1960), there’s a call for you on line 60. Mike Matheny (Michael Wacha over Trevor Rosenthal, 2014), come out from under the rug.

All is forgiven. Buck Showalter died for your sins Tuesday night and slaughtered the Orioles’ season while he was at it.

Showalter wasn’t even close to the first manager ever to make the wrong bullpen decision in a postseason win-or-be-gone game. But he may yet prove the most ignominious. Especially because the decision he refused to make Tuesday night was one he made on 31 July—and got the result he could have gotten Tuesday making the same move.

Showalter’s vapour lets the Jays have a blast

Encarnacion, dropping his bat from a high hand, acknowledging he knows what he's just hit is sending the Blue Jays to an ALDS . . .

Encarnacion, dropping his bat from a high hand, acknowledging he knows what he’s just hit is sending the Blue Jays to an ALDS . . .

You can ask yourselves which is going to hurt for the longest time. Will it be Ubaldo Jimenez, after surrendering a wild card game-winning three-run homer on the first pitch to Edwin Encarnacion in the bottom of the eleventh Tuesday night? Or will it be Buck Showalter, after he’s roasted all the way around the Beltway for leaving Jimenez in rather than bringing in Zach Britton.

Dealing the last wild cards, and hearing the last of a lyricist

What does it say that Vin Scully was shown the love even by the Giants' home audience?

What does it say that Vin Scully was shown the love even by the Giants’ home audience?

Vin Scully ended his broadcasting career in the home ballpark of the Dodgers’ age-old rivals, receiving an affectionate pre-game visit from Willie Mays, awash in a sea of placards (THANK YOU VIN) and maybe the only known standing ovation ever afforded a Dodger in San Francisco. His final words were as gracious as you might have expected from this excessively modest man who always seemed to believe his gift from God was merely something on loan.