When saying you're sorry isn't good enough

This is one of the reasons why I entitled this little enterprise "Midwestern Sensibility Views." Us folks in flyover country know a copout when we see one ... and we don't like to allow people to get away with it.

Which is why many people in my neck of the woods are snickering at Mark McGwire suddenly admitting what everybody had suspected for more than a decade -- that he used steroids during his halcyon home run days in the 90s.

You may recall that McGwire basically took the 5th amendment in front of a Senate committee investigating steroids. That may have got him off the hook there but the folks who vote for the Baseball Hall of Fame took notice. As a result, he has never come close to induction into the hallways of Cooperstown.

Now that he has admitted his sins, his fans in St. Louis and elsewhere are reacting that this should change everything.

Sorry, it doesn't work that way.

Confession may be good for the soul but a sin is still a sin. And there is no denying that anything McGwire achieved in his career has a stigma attached to it. As a result, it is now impossible to say whether his career figure of 583 home runs is more impressive than, say, Harmon Killebrew (573) or Willie McCovey (521) , two strongmen who, by all reports, did it the old fashioned way. (Milkshakes, hamburgers and perhaps a few beers.) It doesn't elevate you back in status. It just clarifies the situation.

Carl Pavano, a victim of McGwire's while pitching for Montreal, came out yesterday and said he should be in the Hall Of Fame now, In essence, Pavano said the past is the past and all previous mistakes can be forgiven. This might be the way it works in the non-real world. But in the hardscrabble world of the Midwest, we tend to look at things differently. True, a lot of mistakes are just that. They can be corrected, forgiven and we move on.

But some - ranging from the real world violence of shooting somebody in the back to the play world status of a baseball player shooting up to be able to hit a 95 mph fastball - are past that range.

And it helps if you own up to your screwup right away ... instead of 10 years later when your brother is about to come out with a book that basically nails you to the wall.

McGwire was a good player who decided he needed an edge to become better than good. For more than decade, he ducked and weaved his way around the truth. It is more than fair to give him good marks for finally coming out and admitting it. But it doesn't excuse him. He has a scarlet letter of his own making. Where I live, you don't get those sort of things easily because we like to give the benefit of the doubt as much as possible.

It doesn't mean he can't be forgiven. But it can't be forgotten. Like Pete Rose (who was banned for his gambling exploits), McGwire deserves to stay on the outside looking in forever.