The real reason why Wally is a journalist.... ] Me vote for Big Mac? Hall, no! Now writers have power: Delete him November 28, 2006 At this stage of my life, the arrival of the mailman generally means bad news, but starting Friday, I will be waiting by the mailbox like a kid on his birthday. Any day after that, my Hall of Fame ballot will arrive in the mail, and this year, I wouldn't miss filling it out for the world. Or should I say not filling it out? Cal Ripken Jr. will get a vote, and so, I believe, will Tony Gwynn. I'll vote for Jim Rice, as I always do, and maybe Jack Morris. I might even break down and vote for Don Mattingly, even though he falls just a tad short of the generally accepted standards because of his chronically cranky back. But the real reason I am looking forward to this year's ballot is more for the name I will not be writing down than for those I will. Under no circumstances will the name "Mark McGwire" appear on my Hall of Fame ballot, and I'm hoping that at least 96 percent of my comrades in the Baseball Writers Association of America think the same way. That would mean that not only would McGwire not get to take his 583 tainted home runs to Cooperstown next year, but that his name would come off the ballot, never to reappear until some future Veterans Committee, probably made up of some of the guys he shared a chemist with, try to backdoor him into the Hall. At that point, it's out of my hands. But for now, and until Newsday follows the lead of The New York Times and some other papers in prohibiting its writers from voting for the Hall of Fame, it is my obligation to do the right thing for a sport that refuses to do right by itself or its history. A general rule of thumb in voting for a Hall of Fame is the sniff test. If it doesn't smell immediately like a Cooperstown-quality career, it probably isn't. McGwire's career smells like a lot of things, none of them good. It doesn't matter to me that he never failed a drug test, because in baseball's wink-wink drug policy, there was no test to fail. Nor does it matter that at the time McGwire "admitted" to using androstenedione, the substance was not on baseball's banned list. All I know is, the guy was Dave Kingman until 1998, King Kong afterward. Anything he did from 1998 on, I have to suspect, was aided, if not caused, by performance-enhancing drugs. That doesn't smell right to me. In fact, it stinks. At the time, a lot of us suspected McGwire, but shamefully, few wrote about it, out of naivete or worse, getting caught up in baseball's manufactured feel-good Summer of '98. Some guys even wrote books about it without once mentioning the word "steroids." Those of us who did were branded party-poopers, witch-hunters, mudslingers. It is not satisfaction enough to know we were right. Now is the time to slam that pitch too many of us fouled off or looked at eight years ago. In a way, it's easy to leave McGwire off this year's ballot; it boasts so many more deserving candidates. Next year will be more of a test, when the only real new blood in the race will be David Justice, Tim Raines and Shawon Dunston, a Hall of Fame good guy. But that doesn't matter, either. I wouldn't vote for McGwire if the only other candidates on the ballot were the Seven Dwarfs. To honor McGwire is to dishonor Roger Maris and Frank Robinson and Harmon Killebrew and Ken Griffey Jr. and Mike Schmidt and Mickey Mantle and everyone else who hit their home runs using pine tar and real, not manufactured, muscle. In five or six years, it will be the same story with Barry Bonds, who already has been allowed to spit on Willie Mays and Babe Ruth and by then may even have besmirched Hank Aaron. But at least in Bonds' case, his pre-steroid era numbers are good enough to warrant serious consideration. If only I could cast half a vote for Natural Bonds and deduct half for Bionic Barry. But that's a quandary for another day. Next week, the problem will be McGwire, and for me it is no problem at all. I went into journalism with the idealistic belief that somehow I could change things, that I could expose the bad guys and elevate the good guys. Over the years, I have learned it often is just beating your fists against a steel door. However, we must continue to try. Leaving McGwire off a Hall of Fame ballot is my try. If enough guys feel the same way, that steel door will finally come down.