He got called up to make his first big league start in late 1980, but for the next 2 1/2 seasons, he was stuck. Boddicker became such a familiar figure around Rochester he joked that a mayoral run seemed in the cards.
That's how it went in an organization where every rotation spot was held by an established standout. "It was hard to be bitter under the circumstances," he said.
Even when Boddicker was called up in May 1983 because of Palmer's bad neck, general manager Hank Peters told him not to give up his Triple-A apartment.
After all, Palmer's injury seemed minor and Flanagan was rolling along at 6-0, throwing better than he had since his Cy Young Award season in 1979. "It seemed like one of those years when everything was falling into place for me," he said.
Then, Flanagan's spike caught in the mound at Memorial Stadium, and his knee popped in and out. The previously indestructible left-hander had to begin a 12-week stint on the disabled list. Enter Boddicker.
Veteran teammates couldn't believe the new starter's focus, his ability to drop a perfect 3-2 breaking ball on the most dangerous hitter, his ruthlessness when he nosed ahead in the late innings.
Boddicker, in turn, couldn't believe how well he was treated. Flanagan cracked him up with the driest sense of humor he had encountered. The veterans always seemed loose, whether in the eighth inning of a tie game or at a day-off picnic at Ken Singleton's house.
And their store of knowledge? Incredible. For every hitter, the Orioles had a codified plan of attack. Ted Simmons? He could still murder fastballs. Rod Carew? Throw him slow, slower and slowest.
"They really made it very simple for me," Boddicker said.
As the season rolled on, the rookie got better and better. He saved his signature game for the ALCS, the night after Scott McGregor lost a nailbiter in Game 1 against the White Sox. Flanagan remembered pulling into the parking lot behind Boddicker that day and watching the rookie unfold himself from the back of a cramped Nissan hatchback.
Despite his humble ride, Boddicker was regal on the mound that day, duping the burly Sox with his fastball, curve and foshball (a split-finger changeup). Asked about his 14-strikout masterpiece, Boddicker typically took little credit.
"I remember that Durwood Merrill was behind the plate," he said. "And he had a very large strike zone."
