#wagner's mustached bat

[readyforthegarden]

Season of the Witch - Part Six

Masterlist

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader, Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis: Danny always told you, you shouldn't play with things you don't fully understand. When trying your hand at magic, you accidentally summon something more than you bargained for. Now stuck, you try to find a way to rid yourself of him, but what if the only way of ridding yourself of him is dying?

Warnings: mentions of witchcraft, angst, spilled hot drink, smut (oral (f! receiving) 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!

WC: 3896

It was late when you woke up the next day. Sam had made breakfast, and helped himself to the shower, which was running as you passed by the bathroom door. There was a plate of Belgian waffles on the counter, steam still rising from them, the coffee fresh in the old coffee pot. By the waffles, there was a bowl of sliced strawberries and a can of non-dairy whipped cream. 

You helped yourself to the breakfast, piling your waffle with strawberries and a mountain of whipped cream, suddenly ravenous. Whether it was skill or magic, you couldn’t say, but Sam had made the most perfect waffle, fluffy and soft, moist and rich, with a hint of vanilla singing through the batter. The strawberries were the perfect sweetness, and the whipped cream fluffy and light. 

You were on your third waffle when Sam waltzed out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him. His hair was damp, already drying partially in waves that cascaded over his bare shoulders. He wore a pair of linen pants, and nothing else. 

“This is amazing,” you mumbled as you swallowed the bite you had just placed in your mouth, using your fork to point to the half-demolished waffle on the plate. Sam smiled, coming closer to the table and leaning over. 

“I’m glad you think so,” he said, batting his eyes, reaching out and using his index finger to dip into the melting whipped cream that was on your breakfast, crooking it to scoop some up. You watched as he lifted a small mound to his lips. “I would have preferred to make it from scratch, however the last time I conjured dairy it curdled on me.” The digit slid between his plush lips, and your cheeks grew hot as he looked down at you, smiling around his finger. Your mind flashed to your dream, how he had cleaned your own juices off his fingers this same way, eyes closed and humming. “Something the matter, fawn?”

“N-no!” You shook your head, appetite suddenly gone. Your eyes had stared at his lips for too long, yours tingling from the memory of his kiss in your dream. You could still feel it, the firmness of them as they parted your own and tasted you. “I need to go get dressed.” As you passed by, you swore you smelled cinnamon wafting from him. 

Once you were dressed in your work clothes, you made a beeline for the door, muttering to the supernatural man on your couch to ‘just…behave while I’m gone.’, earning a snicker as the door shut and locked behind you. 

Afternoon shifts were not your favorite. They tended to drag on, leaving you shuffling the same things around behind the counter to try and look busy between the few customers. You had rearranged the gift cards by the register for the fourth time when the bell above the door chimed. 

“Welcome, what can I get started for you?” you stopped for a second when you saw the man in front of you. He was tall, almost tall enough you had to crane your neck to see his face. He was studying the menu, and you took the time to take in his short black hair, and bright green eyes. He had a small amount of scruff along his chin, but a full mustache above his lip. When he smiled down at you, you felt your cheeks burn. 

“Can I get a large vanilla latte with a shot of espresso? And uh, an extra pump of vanilla, please?” 

“Sure thing, anything else?” You asked, glad to look away from him and to the computer screen to punch in the order. 

“Yeah, sometimes you guys have these cinnamon rolls, do you have any left?” He scanned the case to your left. You know you were out, but you could definitely whip one up for him. 

“Not out, but I can get you one.” You cleared your throat, giving him a smile. He grinned back. “Big breakfast for dinner guy?”

“You could say that,” he answered, swiping his card on the pin pad while you started his coffee. “I’m a firefighter, and I’m working nights this week. So this is technically my breakfast considering I woke up maybe half an hour ago.”

“I thought that,” you nodded at him, twisting the device for the espresso shot into the machine. “Your mustache gives you away.”

“That bad, huh?” 

“No, I like it!” you dipped your face down a bit, cheeks flaming at your admittance. You prepared his coffee and went to the back to put his cinnamon roll in the oven. When you came back, he was still standing at the register, smiling and ready to keep talking. 

“I don’t normally see you here,” he began, leaning against the counter with his hip. 

“I’m usually a morning person.” You shrugged. “I switched shifts with someone for today. Something about a kid’s soccer game.”

“Well, just my luck,” he winked. “I was hoping for something good to happen to me today before work.”

“Oh and you got stuck with me, bummer.” You chuckled. 

“The opposite, actually.” The man extended his hand towards you. “I’m Tyler, by the way.” you gave him your name as you shook his large, firm hand and he grinned at you. “I actually stopped by early, if the old guys at the firehouse see me drinking a vanilla latte instead of black coffee, they’ll never stop making fun of me. Mind if I hang around?” 

“Not at all,” you smiled, and the timer went off for the cinnamon roll. “I’ll be right back.” you heard the bell above the door chime a few times as you plated Tyler’s confection, drizzling it with icing. Grabbing a fork and napkins, you brought it to the front, to be greeted with a small line of patrons. Tyler took his treat from you, another wink as he went and sat down by the window. 

After a burst of frappuccinos and smoothies, the small rush ended and Tyler was back at the register, half the cinnamon roll still on his plate, coffee in hand. The other patrons that stayed were quietly talking to one another at tables or reading, paying you no mind. 

“You really haven’t been to the cider festival? How long have you lived here?” Tyler was astounded by your lack of community involvement, something that made you giggle. 

“Well no one has ever offered to take me.” You shrugged. “But it sounds fun.” 

“Well, what if I offered to take you?” Tyler raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. 

“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips. “I might be washing my hair that night.” He rolled his eyes, taking his fork and getting a piece of the cinnamon roll on it. 

“What if I give you a bite of this cinnamon roll? Hmm???” He waved the fork in front of your face. 

“What if I went in the back and just made my own?” you challenged. 

“You like playing hard to get, don’t you?” Tyler’s eyes twinkled. You leaned forward, giving him a smile. 

“How about I give you my number and we talk before you try and take me on a date?” Tyler grinned, holding out his arm while you grabbed a marker from your apron pocket. As you wrote out your phone number, you heard what you thought was one of the old coffee pots bubbling and making a new batch.

Suddenly the smell of coffee and vanilla was all over, splashing over your hand and onto the marker on Tyler’s arm. He hissed, pulling his arm away as you jumped in shock, grabbing rags and wiping up the mess from the counter. 

“Oh my god, I-I don’t know what happened!” Once you had most of the mess cleaned you grabbed a clean rag and shoved a scoop of ice in it, twisting it around and placing it on Tyler’s arm. “I’m so sorry Tyler.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Tyler gave you a grimace, though his eyes still sparkled a bit. “If a little latte burn is gonna take me out, I’m in the wrong profession.” you giggled, holding the ice to his arm and taking the chance to feel the muscles of his bicep where your other hand rested. “I must’ve bumped the cup too hard when I was flexing and trying to show off.” You heard a scoff from behind you and twisted your head around. A chill of anger ran down your spine, cooling your warm, blushing cheeks as Sam sat in one of the plush chairs, pretending he wasn’t watching the display between you and Tyler from the corner of his eye. 

“Do you want me to make you a new latte?” you asked. Tyler glanced at the watch on his wrist before shaking his head. 

“I should start heading out, but do you work tomorrow morning?”

“You’ll just have to stop by after your shift and see.” you smiled at him as he grinned back, handing you the makeshift ice pack and digging into his pocket to fish out his wallet again, taking out a few bills and putting them in your tip jar. He winked as he left, and once you couldn’t see him anymore, you whipped around, shooting a glare at Sam as you went and finished cleaning up the spilled coffee at the register. 

You could sense Sam as soon as he stood near the counter, but you refused to look up at him. 

“You had no right to do that, you could’ve really hurt him and me.” 

“I would never hurt you,” Sam replied shortly. “Even though I personally think you deserve a swift punishment for how you were acting.” 

“How I was-“ you finally glared up at him. He was glaring right back. 

“You were flirting like a harlot and for what?” Sam reached into the tip jar, pulling out the bills Tyler had placed there. “Six dollars? Hardly worth the effort you were putting in.” 

“And that gave you the right to scald him?!” 

“That’s not the worst burn he’s had. Or will ever have.” you shot him another look as you dumped the half drank latte into the trash. “When someone is coveting what’s mine, I have a right to do what I need.”

“Yours?” You hissed. You held up your left hand, showing off the bare fingers there. “I don’t see a ring on my finger. And I don’t plan on keeping you for very long. As soon as Danny is back, you’re going to whatever underworld you came from.” 

Sam kept your gaze, leaning over and taking your hand, bringing it to his mouth. His lips grazed your left ring finger, and when he pulled back, a brilliant, sparking ring sat upon it. A delicate gold band was home to a pear shaped marquis diamond, its facets glittering as he moved your hand back towards you. 

“There,” he looked at you. “Now you have a ring on your finger. For as long as I am on this earth, you are mine.”

“I am no one’s until I say so,” you tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it was like it was sealed to your skin. 

“Does it help to know that I am yours until that time as well?” Sam leaned over the counter, much the way Tyler did earlier, his eyes staring up at you. You stopped tugging on the jewelry, your heart flipping a bit in your chest at his murmur. 

“No,” you lied, taking your hand and hiding it behind your back. Sam simply stared at you, his face unwavering. “We are not each others, Sam. We are two ships passing in the night. A long, dragging, terrible night.” 

“Terrible huh?” Sam smirked. Impossibly so, he leaned even closer to you, his breath cascading over your face. “Didn’t sound so terrible when I passed by your bedroom door last night. Sounded like you were having some pretty sweet dreams, actually.”

“Sam,” your face reddened. 

“Imagine what I can do to you outside of your dreams,” he whispered. “I meant what I said, fawn. I can’t wait to taste more of you.” without another word, Sam leaned away, and walked to the door. “I’ll see you at home.” He tossed you a wink, much like Tyler did, and sauntered out the door. 

The hot water cascaded over your head, trickling through your hair and down your back as you stood in the shower, washing the smell of coffee away. You had been mad with Sam during the rest of your shift, closing alone and using the solitary to slam doors and toss things down harder than you normally would. 

The ring on your finger still wouldn’t budge, either. Dish soap, hand soap, some grease you found in the maintenance closet, nothing would make it budge. You could twist it around your finger, but it wouldn’t leave the spot where Sam’s lips touched.

What stupid, ridiculous man. An asinine greedy chauvinistic man. Rude and assuming. You ran through every word your brain could think of to describe the man sitting out on your couch, flicking through one of your books like nothing was wrong. You were able to dig under his skin, turning your nose up at the dinner he had cooked and crinkling the fast food bag in your hand, the burrito and tacos leaving grease stains on it. His eyes narrowed and you saw his jaw tense when they landed on the bag. He kept his distaste silent as you set the bag on the counter and headed toward the shower. 

Your stomach rumbled, and you knew it was time to get out. Taking your time to dry and lotion your body, you prolonged leaving the bathroom as long as you could, until another rumble made you feel as if you were about to pass out. Dressing in your oversized t-shirt, you finally went back out to the main room, glancing at your counter and seeing your bag still there.  

“You really are so upset with me that you’d rather stuff your face with that ridiculous cheap food than what I’ve made you?” Sam huffed from the couch as you unwrapped one of your tacos. You stared him down as you opened your mouth and crunched down on the crunchy tortilla, and kept eye contact while chewing. He rolled his eyes dramatically as you went in for a second bite. 

“Oh I’m sorry, am I supposed to be happy you tried to maim a guy who was flirting with me, staked your weird claim on me and then told me you were in my dreams last night?!”

“You should be happy that I didn’t flay his skin from his bones as he stood in front of you.” Sam stood, gritting his teeth. A spilled latte is the least of his problems.” You set down your food, hastily grabbing a napkin and wiping your fingers off. 

“You don’t get to decide who flirts with me or who I flirt with, or what accidents happen to them!” Moving towards him, you prodded a chest with your finger. 

“And I didn’t control your dream, fawn. I just happened to string together the clues when I heard you moan my name.”

“Oh bullshit” you rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Then how did you know what you said?”

“Did you ever consider you sent the dream to me?” Sam’s face was blank, causing you to pause. “You pulled me into it, little fawn. Or should I say little witch?”

“H-how?” Sam shrugged, reaching over you and picking up your fast food, dropping it back in the stained bag it came in. 

“I don’t know. I’m not versed in that magic.” he moved around the counter, making a show of tossing your food in the garbage. “My brothers may know, though I have no clue of how to communicate with them at the moment.” 

“You have brothers?” your curiosity was piqued, ignoring him tossing your food as he filled a plate with baked salmon covered in a dark sticky glaze, rice and sliced sauteed squash. It looked infinitely better than the taco you’d barely eaten, and you tried to hold back the grumble in your stomach as he handed you a fork. 

“Perhaps.” Sam watched you, glancing tellingly between you and the plate he set down in front of you. 

“Oh, I’m not touching your food until I get an apology.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “You could’ve really hurt me and Tyler and anyone else that could’ve been at the register.” Sam’s chest heaved as he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose. 

“My kind is…territorial, for lack of a better term.” he cleared his throat. “We are bonded, and for me, that comes with certain…challenges…”

“Like what?”  You let your fork tap against the salmon on your plate, but refused to dig in. 

“Jealousy, for one.” Sam huffed, as if revealing a secret you’d been prying from him for ages. “It’s not something I have control over. I would prefer not to feel it at all.”

“That would make two of us.” 

“And,” Sam began, clearing his throat multiple times, as if it pained him to speak. “If I hurt you because of this, I am sorry.” 

“Not good enough.” you sighed, setting your fork down. Sam gripped the edge of the counter, glaring at you. “No, I think if you’re that jealous, you should get on your knees and say it.” Sam stiffened, and you refused to back down from his glare. After a handful of stoic seconds, Sam pushed away from the counter and moved back around it, until he was standing in front of the stool you sat on. 

His dark eyes never wavered from yours as he lowered himself to his knees. His posture was rigid, shoulders back, chin tipped up, refusing to let the position get in the way of his pride.

“My fawn, I am truly sorry if I have hurt you with my actions.” Sam’s voice was low and smooth, his plush lips barely moving. “Please, could you find it in your heart to forgive me for my missteps?”

“Tell me Sam,” you leaned forward a bit. “What exactly made you jealous?” Sam’s lips pressed into a thin line, and your stomach bubbled with giddy excitement. It was a rare thing to be able to get under his skin, and you were going to run with it. “Was it because he was bigger than you? More muscular? The fact he could’ve lifted me over that counter and taken me to his truck? Or was it when I flirted back, and considered what we would do after he took me on a date? I bet he’s got stamina to last a long while.”

“Perhaps it’s the fact he thought your time was only worth six dollars.” Sam replied coolly. He leaned closer as you moved back. “I can tell you this much, he would never satisfy you.”

“Oh? What makes you so sure about that?” Sam’s hands lifted from his thighs to your knees, gently rubbing over the soft, smooth skin there. Your thighs tensed at the touch, and smirked up at you. 

“In my time in this realm, the men that are built like that are usually making up for something else.” Sam’s fingertips grazed the hem of your shirt, resting high on your thigh. You couldn’t help the response of your body, your legs relaxing and parting slightly, but you tried to maintain the upper hand as you felt it slowly slipping away.

“And you think you can satisfy me?”

“You seem to think so,” Sam grinned lecherously as your advantage left you. “That dream had me moaning into my pillow too, fawn, make no mistake. I’d be happy to show you what I’m capable of.”  

“I’m not sure sleeping with a demon is a very good idea.” you murmured as Sam’s hands pushed back your shirt. His eyes watched yours carefully, and seeing no protest, he slid a finger up and down the soft cotton of your panties, making you gasp quietly. 

“Who said anything about sleeping?” he smirked up at you. The next thing you knew, you were raising your hips and letting him scoot you to the edge of the stool, your legs open farther and his head dipping between them. 

His tongue wasted no time in keeping his promise. With a long, flat lick, he tasted you, and the wetness that was gathering there during your conversation. A moan left your lips, breathy and light as Sam wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding your legs in position as he suckled on your clit. Your hips bucked up into his face as Sam savored you, a low hum coming from his throat. His eyes raised to yours when your hand threaded into his hair, holding it back and watching his every move. 

“Oh!” you gasped when his teeth grazed your clit, fisting his hair tighter. “Do that again,” Sam happily obliged, and your thighs twitched by his ears in response. He began alternating between gentle nips with his teeth and soothing licks, the tension building in your stomach as your muscles tensed over and over. Your moans coaxed him on, small ‘yes yes yes’s’ falling from your mouth as he pushed his face farther into your core. 

You were on the brink of ecstasy, fully ready to give in fully to Sam and tell him he was right, but in an instant, you had the sensation you were falling, and suddenly you were in Sam’s arms, staring up at him. Your breath was still heavy, and tears pricked your eyes at the loss of your orgasm. Sam’s chin was glistening as he smirked down at you. 

“Sorry to cut this short, darling.” his eyes were hooded and you wanted nothing more than to bring his lips to yours, taste the way you tasted on his tongue. “Though it would have been a compliment, you’d take a concussion for an orgasm from me.” he watched your eyes dance from his mouth to his eyes, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue parting yours gently and allowing you to taste yourself. Reaching up, you grabbed his shirt collars, holding him to you. For support as you tried to right yourself, is what you repeated in your mind. 

Once you were sitting up again, Sam reached around you, grabbing a napkin from the counter by your plate and cleaning up his face a bit more. You tried not to look as pathetic as you felt, your lust and body screaming at you to beg him to finish the job, to take you to your bedroom, the couch, on the floor right there and make you limp for a week. 

“Thank you for the taste,” he cleared his throat, taking your hand and placing the now crumpled napkin in it. “But I think after your performance today, I’ll leave you to take care of the rest.” annoyance flared as he walked away. It wasn’t until you felt something slipping through your fingers that you realized your strong emotion caused a flame in your palm, turning the cheap paper into ash in seconds, the small granules flitting to the floor.

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @myownparadise96 @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr

@musicspeaks @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dammm1256 @jordie-gvf @demonrat444 @misshunnybee @valleydollgvf @brookes-so-done @age0fwagner @starcatcherxstevie @amethystars @jakesguitarsolo @lolidontknowwhat @lyndz2names @godly-sinsx @dannythedog @anthemheatwave @samomf @spark-my-nature @scorpiosunsammy @theindigostre4k @jjwasneverhere @couldbefalling @peaceloveunitygvf @wrldabomination @gretavfreaky @eraofstardustchords @maddie-rae @laurynnnn125 @musicislove3389

[antiqueanimals]

Grzimek's Animal Life Encyclopedia, vol. 11, Mammals II. 1972.

1.) Big naked-backed bat (Pteronotus gymnonotus)

2.) Wagner's mustached bat (Pteronotus personatus)

3.) Greater spear-nosed bat (Phyllostomus hastatus)

4.) Fringe-lipped bat (Trachops cirrhosus)

5.) Tomes's sword-nosed bat (Lonchorhina aurita)

[yahoo-big-league-stew-blog]

The 2017 Hall of Fame ballot: How we'd vote on the rest of the returnees

The Hall of Fame ballot is the deepest it’s been in years, which means several players who should be a big part of the conversation are getting overlooked almost entirely.

As you’ve seen over the past two weeks, we’ve done our best to focus on the 13 candidates we feel present the most interesting case for induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. Some of them were first-timers. Others, like Tim Raines and Lee Smith, are in their final bid on the Baseball Writers Association of America’s ballot. The common thread being that all have, or we feel will, surpass 20-percent in the ballots.

Of course, even that exercise excluded several worthy candidates. Today, we’ll give those candidates —  all of whom finished at 20 percent or below last year — some of the spotlight they deserve, while sharing our opinions of their Hall of Fame credentials.

Jeff Kent is in his fourth year on the Hall of Fame ballot. (Getty Images)

Jeff Kent The well-traveled Jeff Kent spent 17 seasons in MLB, suiting up for the Blue Jays, Mets, Indians, Giants, Astros and Dodgers. His most notable seasons were spent with the Giants, where he teamed with Barry Bonds to form one of baseball’s most feared middle of the order duos. He was voted the National League MVP in 2000, selected to the All-Star game five times, and finished his career with 2,461 hits; 377 home runs; 560 doubles; 1,518 RBI and 1,320 run scored.

2016 Result: 16.6 percent

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK No — Kent has hovered in the teens during his first three years on the ballot, and that seems low. He was arguably the game’s best second baseman from 1997 to 2004. That’s a pretty solid stretch. He may not be a Hall of Famer, but he deserves better. He and Barry Bonds once famously almost came to blows in the Giants’ dugout, and some people took Bonds’ side. That probably tells you all you need to know about why Kent doesn’t do well on the ballot.

LIZ ROSCHER No — If there were a hall of fame for awesome ’90s mustaches, Jeff Kent would get my vote. But his stats don’t quite cut it for me in the Baseball Hall of Fame

MIKE OZ No — Kent was a great player, underrated even. But his overall value falls below that of the other second baseman enshrined in Cooperstown.

MARK TOWNSEND No — It’s surprising to see Kent doing so poorly in the voting. He was a terrific player and feared hitter for many years, especially when teamed with Barry Bonds. His numbers put him right on the cusp of Hall of Fame status, but he‘s not quite there in my eyes.

Fred McGriff is in his eighth year on the ballot. (AP)

Fred McGriff McGriff played 19 seasons in the big leagues, including stints with the Blue Jays, Padres, Braves, Devil Rays (and later Rays), Cubs and Dodgers. Oddly, McGriff never spent more than five seasons with any one team, but don’t let that movement fool you. He put together a productive career, launching 493 career home runs to go with 441 doubles and 1,550 RBIs.

2016 Result: 20.9 percent

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK No — Strong, impressive career. The bar for first baseman in the Hall is incredibly high. While his numbers look great in hindsight, he went up against some ridiculous sluggers at the position during his era.

LIZ ROSCHER No — McGriff had himself a really amazing, luxurious mustache, and that needs to be recognized. But as far as actual baseball is concerned, he’s just not enough of a standout to get my vote.

MIKE OZ No — This is a tough one. Those 493 homers look awfully good, but I’m staying on the “no” side here. I don’t believe that someone needs a benchmark stat to make the Hall, but if McGriff had hit 500 homers, maybe that would have changed the opinion of him among the overall electorate. As it stands, he doesn’t quite measure up to the other first baseman in the Hall.

MARK TOWNSEND No — One of my favorites growing up for a lot of reasons. First and foremost, I loved watching him effortlessly swat baseballs 400 feet. I always felt he played first base smoothly, even without the awards to back it up. And I especially enjoyed the “Crime Dog” nickname. He’s a first ballot Hall of Very Good player.

Gary Sheffield is in his third year on the ballot. (Getty Images)

Gary Sheffield Sheffield’s case is a complicated one after being linked to BALCO in the Mitchell Report. He says he was unaware there were steroids in the cream used to heal sutures following knee surgery, but the connection remains a lingering dark cloud. As it is, Sheffield remains one of five eligible members of the 500-homer club not in the Hall. That group includes Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Rafael Palmeiro.

2016 Result: 11.6

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK No — He deserves a better look than he’s getting. A .292/.393/.514 slash line over 22 seasons in the majors is incredibly impressive. But Sheffield’s rumored connection to BALCO and his attitude during his playing days seem to be hurting his case.

LIZ ROSCHER No — He was such a great hitter. Feared, even. But the rest of his game can’t match that, which makes it hard for me to give him my vote.

MIKE OZ No — I’m “no” on Sheffield, but it’s a close one. His overall value doesn’t measure up to others at his position already in the Hall. Being in the 500-homer club is also enough to make up for that, but he’s also very one-dimensional, something that separates him from the likes of Vladimir Guerrero.

MARK TOWNSEND Yes — Sheffield was the definition of intimidation with his patented bat wiggle and menacing look. He also backed it up with great production for a surprisingly long time. I think 509 home runs speaks for themselves, but the dark cloud of PEDs allegations will always remain. I lean toward yes, but also see him as a test case for how the Hall of Fame is evolving to something more than counting stats and milestones

Sammy Sosa is in his fifth year on the ballot. (Getty Images)

Sammy Sosa Steroid speculation and monster home run numbers aside, Sosa may be best remembered for the guy getting caught with cork in his bat. Sosa’s career was as dynamic as it was bizarre, with moments ranging from his flag-waving post-911 home run to his dramatic falling out with the Cubs that still hasn’t been patched up. His retirement has been much the same way, leading him to become a mere afterthought in the Hall of Fame despite an astounding 609 career home runs.

2016 Result: 7.0 percent

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK No — From 1998 to 2002, he was among the top-three hitters in the game. He also gets unfairly dinged for his connection with steroids. Other players who have the same rumors get a pass because people believe “they were Hall of Famers before they used,” but those same people refuse to apply that logic to Sosa. Seems inconsistent to me, even if I’m unsure whether he belongs in Cooperstown.

LIZ ROSCHER No — If homers alone could get someone into the Hall of Fame, Sosa would be there. Sadly, they can’t.

MIKE OZ No — I don’t agree with the people who say that if you vote for Bonds and Clemens, you need to vote for Sosa. Even if you include the steroids-boosted numbers, he’s borderline. His JAWS score puts him below the average Hall of Famer at his position. To prove how much Bonds and Sosa aren’t the same, just look at their career WAR: 162.4 to 58.4.

MARK TOWNSEND No — You won’t find a more bizarre case on the 2017 Hall of Fame ballot, which is saying a lot. His power numbers were brilliant. His everything else wasn’t so much. But his reported failed drug test in 2003 is what makes him a definite no.

Billy Wagner is in his second year on the Hall of Fame ballot. (AP)

Billy Wagner Wagner possessed one of baseball’s most dominant arms over his near 16-year career. The flame-throwing left-hander pitched primarily for the Astros, racking up 225 saves over his first nine seasons, before moving on to the Phillies, Mets, Red Sox and Braves. He’s currently sixth on the all-time saves list with 422.

2016 Result: 10.5

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK No — It’s amazing to me that Trevor Hoffman could sneak into the Hall his second year on the ballot, but Wagner will have to fight to survive. He had a lower ERA and a better strikeout rate than Hoffman over his career. The main reason for the difference in votes seems to be save totals. Hoffman is second all-time with 601. Though Wagner is sixth on the list, he’s roughly 180 saves off Hoffman’s total. The bar for relievers getting into the Hall is high, and I’m not sure what to do with Hoffman or Wagner, but I know Wagner deserves better than this.

LIZ ROSCHER No — Definitely a guy who should be enshrined in the Hall of Very Good, though not in the Hall of Fame.

MIKE OZ No — My take on closers: They need to be truly transcendent. I think Hoffman is. I think Rivera is. Wagner? He was great, but he wasn’t quite there.

MARK TOWNSEND No — I remain stubborn with relief pitchers. I feel like Mariano Rivera is the true standard among them, and I don’t feel Wagner came close enough to that level for long enough to get over the hump.

Larry Walker is in his seventh year on the Hall of Fame ballot. (Getty Images)

Larry Walker One of baseball’s most dynamic talents during the 90s and 2000s, Walker won three batting championships, seven Gold Gloves and was voted N.L. MVP in 1997. Walker played 17 season in the majors, splitting his prime seasons with the Expos and Rockies before finishing with the Cardinals. The fact that Walker spent much of his prime hitting in Coors Field seems to have damaged his Hall of Fame chances significantly, but his .313 career average, 383 home runs and 1,311 runs batted in remain very impressive.

2016 Result: 15.5

OUR BALLOT

CHRIS CWIK Yes — Another player who should have a higher voting percentage. Walker gets dinged for playing in Coors Field for a long portion of his career. Had he played in a different market, he might get more attention now. It’s really tough to write off a guy who hit .313/.400/.565 slash line over 17 years in the majors, even if his peak seasons came in a friendly ballpark.

LIZ ROSCHER No — Injuries and life (i.e. the strike) really got in Walker’s way. He was just so good, I just wish he’d been able to do it for longer. That would have gotten him my vote.

MIKE OZ Yes — I’m amazed how much love Walker hasn’t been getting from voters. He’s not a no-doubter, but I think the numbers give him a strong case. I think the .300+/.400+/.500+ slash puts him in a nice class (only Edgar Martinez and Manny Ramirez on this ballot). Walker could be on the fringe for me on a ballot where there’s a 10-person limit, but in a simple yes-or-no format, I say yes.

MARK TOWNSEND No — This is tough because Walker will always be a sentimental favorite of mine. As great as he was and as great as his numbers are, he’s more of a what could have been guy than a Hall of Famer due to numerous injuries that sidelined or limited him.

ALSO IN THIS SERIES: • Jeff Bagwell • Barry Bonds • Roger Clemens • Vladimir Guerrero • Trevor Hoffman • Edgar Martinez • Mike Mussina • Jorge Posada • Tim Raines • Manny Ramirez • Ivan Rodriguez • Curt Schilling • Lee Smith

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Mark Townsend is a writer for Big League Stew on Yahoo Sports. Have a tip? Email him at bigleaguestew@yahoo.com or follow him on Twitter!

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