There he is, catching some of practice from the eighth row. No, there, watching from the corner. No, there, headed out the door.  With the brief exception of Tuesday night, when he accepted the NBA's Chuck Daly Award for lifetime coaching achievement, Riley has unremittingly stayed in the shadows of the Heat's run toward the latest championship he planned. The man who once gave us a philosophical gem for every occasion insists on remaining silent amid the noise. The godfather of the Heat is usually a rumor.  Even Tuesday, he did not plan to stay long in the spotlight.  "It's good to be back," he began his news conference, "for a minute."  No, Riley has been the mystical force that hovers above this great quest.  "Like the great Oz?" Kurt Rambis asked. Rambis played for Riley in the Los Angeles Lakers golden days, and now works for ESPN.  "Like Big Brother, always watching," Miami's Chris Bosh said.  "You can feel his aura through the whole organization," the Heat's Shane Battier added.  The finish line is close now, for the title Riley envisioned when he fit together LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Bosh — a three-star talent consortium that made the rest of the NBA nation gasp. Now James is doing exactly what Riley dreamed he would do, back when the Heat president tossed his championship rings on a table for James to gaze upon — and covet.  "We got very fortunate," Riley said Tuesday night, "that at the right time and at the right place, three players wanted to play together."  Riley has seven rings, by the way. Four as Lakers head coach, one as assistant, one as a player. And the seventh, coaching the team he called his favorite, the 2006 Heat.  But never as the man in the front office. Never the quiet architect. Until maybe now.  Actually, Riley might be talking to us every game day in the NBA Finals. Just watch the Heat play. That's his message. Note the defense, the relentless effort, the strong minds and no-nonsense purpose this team has that maybe last year's did not.  The Miami galaxy has always been Riley's creation, but maybe now the Heat have become truer to Riley's vision. He always understood the special challenges of an ultra-talented team, for his Lakers were a red-carpet roster.  Riley is mute to the outside world — although he has made a few bucks as a motivational speaker — and only an occasional direct presence with his players. And yet the Heat, willing listeners, seem to carry an undeniable Riley stamp.  From James: "Any insight that he gives you, he's giving it because of experience. He knows all about it."  And Udonis Haslem: "His DNA is playing hard. I remember he always told me that hard work doesn't guarantee anything, but without it, you don't have a chance."  And Erik Spoelstra, who has had to coach this three-ring circus while working in something of a seven-ring shadow: "We talk all the time. All the time. If I'm not calling him, if I'm not bumping into him at the office, I'm texting him.  "It's most relevant on a team like this. He's walked in my shoes."  And Battier: "This is an organization that's about business. It's a culture of winning, it's not a culture of excuses. That's Pat Riley in a nutshell.  "He's around. It's not like he's in there drawing up plays. He's given a few speeches this year, but not as many as you might think."  Battier mentioned the season-opener talk on Christmas. "I can't even think of the metaphors. I had them written down somewhere. There's a reason why that man gets six figures a speech. He's pretty powerful."  Rambis has admired from afar, as a former Riley soldier.  "Their growth from last season, when they probably thought it was going to be easy — I think they're all acting and reacting differently," Rambis said. "I see a completely changed LeBron James. I see a willingness to sacrifice by multiple positions. It means something to them. They hated the way they felt last year. That's the sort of mental approach that Riley has always preached. Make the sacrifices, block out peripheral opponents, do whatever it takes to win.  "His huge goal was to get players playing harder than anybody else."  Riley's bio is full of little surprises. Is he really 67? Has it really been 30 years since the dawn of his Lakers' Showtime?  Did he really once turn down a chance to play football for Bear Bryant at Alabama because he wanted to play basketball for Adolph Rupp at Kentucky — and still end up drafted in the 11th round by the Dallas Cowboys?  All true. And now this, not missing the fire of the bench, but remembering its pleasures.  "I feel it in the gut right now, like everybody else," Riley said. "But we have a very, very good young coach who's growing by leaps and bounds. I did 30 years. That's enough.  "I've still got a lot of bite left in my bark, but it's directed in another direction."  So he will sit and watch Thursday, this Hall of Famer of few public words. Pat Riley will let his team do the talking.
Pat Riley has been the mastermind behind the Miami Heat's latest success, but he has chosen to stay in the background.