Let’s cut through the introductory pontificating and get right to work. Here is my 2016 Hall of Fame ballot.

Jeff Bagwell

Given the whispers that surround Bagwell and have kept him out of Cooperstown for five years, here are my parameters regarding illegal performance-enhancing drugs: If Major League Baseball suspended a player for an on-field transgression, I consider that damaging, although not disqualifying, to his candidacy. Barring such discipline, it’s irrelevant. So it’s not a matter of whether I think or don’t think Bagwell used illegal PEDs. I simply don’t care. And his offensive numbers (.948 OPS and 149 OPS+) speak for themselves.

Barry Bonds

Same deal here. I’m not naïve about how Bonds put up those late-career numbers. But I’m not going to penalize Bonds for making the decisions he did — the same decisions that countless of his contemporaries made — during a time when he mostly faced no real danger of consequences. He is arguably the greatest hitter in the game’s history.

Roger Clemens

Yup, there are a lot of these guys wearing the same monkey on their backs. Clemens served as the star of the Mitchell Report, a collection of dated allegations designed by Bud Selig to get Congress off the game’s back. And it did just that, so kudos to Selig. To use it as evidence against Clemens’ Hall of Fame case, though? All you need to know is that the only penalty MLB could exact against The Rocket, one of the five best pitchers ever, is the negative publicity from the report.

Ken Griffey Jr.

Will he break Tom Seaver’s record of 98.84 percent support? I’m betting yes, for two reasons: 1. The elimination of about 90 voters who hadn’t covered the game for 10 or more years seems to have removed much crankiness from the electorate; and 2. Griffey, who possesses no known ties to illegal PEDs, looks even better thanks to his less shiny contemporaries like Bonds. In any case, Junior’s overall accomplishments make him a slam dunk.

Edgar Martinez

Griffey’s longtime Mariners teammate might be the best designated hitter ever. His fantastic contributions at the plate (147 OPS+, plus .873 OPS in 34 postseason games) override his lack of contributions defensively.

Mike Mussina

I am stumped as to why he dramatically trails, say, last year’s inductee John Smoltz. Maybe the 3.68 ERA? That’s mitigated by his 123 ERA+, all of it (3,562²/₃ innings) compiled in the dangerous American League.

Mike Piazza

It looks like he’s going to overcome his case of Bagwell-itis. Or does Bagwell have Piazza-itis? Either way, whatever unnatural help the best-hitting catcher ever might have utilized along the way doesn’t matter without an MLB conviction.

Curt Schilling

Like Mussina, he watched Smoltz leap ahead of him on questionable grounds. His ratio of 3,116 strikeouts against 711 walks in 3,261 innings is ridiculously good.

Alan Trammell

This marks his 15th and final chance on the writers’ ballot. Both he and his double-play partner Lou Whitaker, who received just 2.9 percent of the vote in 2001, falling off the radar, deserve Hall membership. Trammell excelled offensively (for his premium position — a 110 OPS+) and defensively.

Larry Walker

A monster with the bat, even when you subtract points for the time he spent at hitter-friendly Coors Field. He even stole 230 bases to complement his power (.565 slugging percentage) and on-base skills (.400 on-base percentage).

Close calls

Tim Raines is my 11th choice. I’ve voted for Mark McGwire in the past, and I’d vote for Gary Sheffield in the future. Sammy Sosa’s 2003 suspension for a corked bat works against him. It’s hard to support closers Trevor Hoffman, Lee Smith and Billy Wagner with the current logjam. Mad respect (but no votes) for the careers of Jim Edmonds, Nomar Garciaparra, Jeff Kent and Fred McGriff.