Renck: Larry Walker, Barry Bonds not worthy of Hall of Fame vote … yet

Barry Bonds is the best hitter I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t his power, though, that was breathtaking. It was his bat speed. Once, as he was tilting the sport on its head, he hit a home run against the Rockies on an inside pitch that would have thumped him in the chest had he not swung. It seemed physically impossible to get his hands to the ball. And yet he did, launching the fastball over the right-field fence at AT&T Park.

Former Rockies outfielder Larry Walker is the best player I’ve ever covered. He had more tools than Lowe’s, winning batting crowns, saving runs defensively and running the bases with his head on a swivel, always knowing when to shift gears.

I didn’t vote for either player on my Hall of Fame ballot this year.

Both omissions were for entirely different reasons, highlighting what has become a nuanced, complicated and moral debate for Hall of Fame voters. Nearly 600 writers are eligible to vote, with a player needing 75 percent approval from the electorate to gain entrance into Cooperstown. Some have abstained completely this year, protesting the Hall of Fame’s lack of guidance on how to deal with players suspected of using performance enhancing drugs. Others will turn in a blank ballot as a form of protest, which penalizes both clean and dirty players.

Writers I respect immensely have categorized 1985-2001 as a Steroid Era and have chosen to vote for the best players during that span simply on their statistical merits, citing baseball’s lack of testing for PEDs.

At the risk of hypocrisy, Bonds was a Hall of Famer — if the “Game of Shadows” timeline is followed — before he began using PEDs following the 1998 season. Bonds, in grand jury testimony, said he never knowingly took the cream and the clear, even as mountains of evidence from the BALCO raid suggested otherwise.

I find granting Bonds a pass for his behavior impossible, for now. Perhaps, after tabling it another year, my stance will change. But he was a cheat. As was Roger Clemens, according to eyewitness testimony of his trainer as well as his former best friend, Andy Pettitte. Understand, Joe DiMaggio wasn’t a first-ballot Hall of Famer. I am not banishing Bonds and Clemens from my ballot forever — assuming they don’t make it this year — but deferring for perspective.

To absolve them is uncomfortable, after discussing the issue with current Hall of Famers and those players who agonized and paid the price for playing clean. One former Rockie told me of how he required medication for depression because he could not bring himself to use steroids. He watched a former good friend benefit greatly from steroids, but he could not take that step, shortening his own career, he believed, and greatly impacting his power numbers and paycheck.

This isn’t a character issue, it’s a competitive issue. Steroids gave players a huge boost in both performance and their ability to recover more quickly. If it didn’t help, then why won’t guys admit they did it? Because they knew it was wrong, knew they were getting an advantage akin to Ben Johnson running in the Olympics against Carl Lewis.

Don’t tell me everyone was doing it. I don’t believe that.

I firmly believe there were clean players during The Steroid Era. Former Texas Rangers pitcher Rick Helling spoke up multiple times in union meetings demanding that the players’ union address the issue. There were reporters who directly asked players if they were cheating. I did. But denials ended much of the pursuit, since these stories require hard evidence, not suspicion.

Hall of Famers from Andre Dawson to Goose Gossage talk about not wanting those who willingly cheated the game in the Hall of Fame. I listen, and understand their anger and stance.

Yes, it’s a slippery slope, trying to determine who did and who didn’t use PEDs. My line is drawn on those who were caught or snowed by an avalanche of evidence against them. So, I’m not voting for sluggers Rafael Palmeiro, Sammy Sosa or Mark McGwire.

Walker’s omission has nothing to do with PEDs. He just didn’t play enough or care enough. His statistics come up slightly short, and his absence from games by choice, not injury (like missing nearly a week one season to prepare for lasik surgery), was an annual issue. Had he played more, his numbers would have required admission into the Hall.

That leaves my ballot in alphabetical order: Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Edgar Martinez, Jack Morris, Mike Piazza, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling and Alan Trammell.

There are others who are deserving, players whom history might look on more kindly through a wider lens. These are my eight. It was enough. This time.