Sunshine Series has nice ring

If you look in the distance, just over the horizon where sun-kissed blue skies meet sunburned gray beards, you can see a hint of the improbable and the unthinkable coming into your living rooms this October:

A Florida Marlins-Tampa Bay Rays World Series.

South Florida, once home of spring training, could soon be the twin site of the Fall Classic – call it the Sunshine Series, a.k.a. the Subway Series South, the first meeting of post-Bud-Selig-era expansion teams on baseball’s biggest stage.

What, you’d rather see an all-Chicago finale in October? Weather could push Game 7 of a Windy City World Series to Memorial Day 2009.

The Marlins and Rays are children of the 1990s. Before either one of them was in diapers, Roger Clemens had already won three Cy Young awards, struck out 20 batters in a single game and taken Mindy McCready to Dairy Queen.

Can you name their managers? Neither can I.

In fact, until 48 hours ago, I could not name three players on either Florida’s or Tampa Bay’s roster. Heck, until 48 minutes ago, I didn’t know Tampa Bay had a baseball team.

But what matters to me – and a nation of baseball fans suffering from Red Sox-Yankees fatigue – is that the Rays, currently in second place in the American League East, might deny New York or Boston a postseason spot. And, to a lesser extent, we’re also happy that the Marlins, in second place in the National League East, might keep the Mets or Braves out of the playoffs.

I want to see a Red Sox-Mets World Series in the autumn like Robert Downey Jr. wants to see his parole officer in Cannes.

Plus, ever since my parents started wintering at Century Village in Deerfield Beach, Fla. – where everyone is up by 6:15 a.m. and everyone is done with dinner by 4:45 p.m. – I pretty much feel like a honorary South Florida resident, so how can’t I root for a Marlins-Rays showdown?

(Note to Century Village visitors: Like many retired Florida motorists, when my father drives, he simply makes educated guesses about traffic signals. I often close my eyes when he’s behind the wheel, but then I realize, that makes two of us. He also invokes his first rule of the road, from the old days in the Bronx: Make the other guy brake.)

(Note to Dad: If you introduce me to one more guy named Irv, I’m handing the remote over to Mom and hiding your teeth in the flaxseed.)

By the way, have you seen the seventh-inning stretch at Marlins and Rays games? Nobody gets up. Why? Nobody can get up.

The Marlins are moving into a new stadium in 2011. It will feature a retractable roof and shuffleboard courts.

The Rays and Marlins both draw small crowds; in Miami, in particular, they blame humidity and thunderstorms. Oh, please, the ballpark’s not in the Brazilian rainforest. Not to mention, if they changed the start time of all night games to 4:05 p.m. and called it an “Early Bird,” I believe they would sell out.

What’s remarkable about the Marlins is, in their 15-year existence, they have won more World Series – two – than any N.L. team in that time. They have more World Series titles than the Padres, Astros, Brewers, Rockies, Mariners and Rangers combined. In 2003, when the Marlins won the NLCS over the Cubs – does 1908 ring a bell? – and then beat the Yankees in the World Series, it was better than great sex for many of us; well, I assume it was better than great sex.

What’s remarkable about the Rays is how bad they’ve been in their first 10 seasons. Tampa Bay has finished last every year of its existence except 2004, when it finished next-to-last; naturally, the Rays never have reached the World Series. If you live in Tampa Bay, the World Series is something you might see on TV, unless you have my father’s cable package, which includes only Spanish-language stations and Larry King.

I want to go to a Marlins-Rays World Series. Warm weather, plentiful citrus, plus anytime I’m in Florida, I’m thinking Applebee’s!

Ask The Slouch

Q. Omar Minaya said it would’ve been disrespectful to fire Mets manager Willie Randolph while he was in uniform, so he waited to do it away from the ballpark. If you had kept your wedding tuxedo(s) on, would you have avoided being let go? (Thomas M. Strike; Washington, D.C.)

A. Dressed to the nines or dressed in my birthday suit, I was a goner.

Q. I did a Google search of your name. Did you know that there are people that don’t like you? (Mike Hinkson; Cooperstown, Pa.)

A. For Google you need this? Half the people in my family don’t like me.

Q. Has the current Mrs. Slouch, Toni, charged you a fee for boarding your third marriage with extra baggage? (Steve Nagy; San Francisco)

A. Tragically (for her), she’s the one paying the price.

Q. Do you think Tiger Woods could have won the U.S. Open if his knee injury had been as bad as Paul Pierce’s? (Andy Wise; Alexandria, Va.)

A. Pay the man, Shirley.