Brian Schmitz of the Orlando Sentinel reports: Tracy McGrady returned to the Magic's practice Monday from Atlanta, where doctors worked on his aching sacroiliac. He hopes to play Wednesday night against the Indiana Pacers and be able to bend over backward to carry his team.

Merry Christmas, Tracy. True, this isn't what you signed up for. No Grant Hill again. No inside game again. No shot at contending again.

But it actually could be worse. Far worse.

McGrady could be praying -- and playing -- for the Miami Heat. Avoiding them has added years to his young life, because Pat Riley's practices were cruel and unusual when he was winning.

Free agency in the summer of 1999 broke right for McGrady and all wrong for the Heat. Tracy took a recruiting trip to South Florida at the behest of Alonzo Mourning. But he eventually landed in Orlando, leaving Miami to sign two busts to be named later in this column.

Imagine where the Magic would be if T-Mac had fallen under Riley's spell? Can you say expansion team?

Imagine where Miami would be today if McGrady had been lured by Riley? The Heat would have been a team with a future, not the farce that they are now.

Instead of getting McGrady, Riley proved the general manager side of his brain just doesn't work as well as the coaching side. Mr. GQ's IQ has been questioned. He sent Jamal Mashburn, Tim Hardaway and P.J. Brown packing. He then signed Brian Grant and Eddie Jones each to $80 million contracts, and they are unmistakable busts.

The Heat are a hideous 5-20 according to Atlantic Division standings that appear upside down. Only the Chicago Bulls stand between the Heat being the worst team -- and Jay Leno fodder.

They have the league's worst offense. The Heat scored 56 in an entire game last week on a night when Duke might have had to spot them points.

If there is any chemistry, it is nonflammable. And Mourning, betrayed by his kidneys, has lost his ferociousness.

Known for his legendary games of mind control, either Riley can't raise the dead or the Heat just stopped listening. It has been a rough year for winning institutions: Yankees, Nebraska, Notre Dame, Riley.

He has always carried himself with a regal arrogance, but he is getting his comeuppance. And few violins are playing for him in the NBA.

Riley looks like we have never seen him look. He appears gray and ghostly, aging overnight, like a dairy product. He has taken on the persona of a desperate, beaten man, realizing he has failed to deliver.

South Florida wonders if Riley will last the season or if he'll retire by fax, as he did in New York. Maybe he'll just call from Jimmy Johnson's fishing boat.

With or without him, the Heat must do what the Magic did three seasons ago. Tear it down and build it back up. Suffer through a lean year or two. What's the difference? Nobody in Miami noticed when they were good.

Sounds like sacrilege, but if possible, the Heat need to deal Mourning to a contender so he might get a title shot. They need to deal Grant and/or Jones to clear salary-cap room, which could climb to $30 million for 2003.

Then the Heat can start over. The only thing they're doing now is making woebegone Orlando and Tracy McGrady not feel so bad this holiday season.