You want evidence that the luxury tax is, uh, taxing? Look no further than southern Florida, where the once free-spending, anything-goes Miami Heat have suddenly become paradigms of fiscal restraint.

	Mourning should see a bunch of new teammates this season.

Owner Micky Arison has laid down the law: he's not paying a luxury tax and that means that coach/president Pat Riley is trying to reconfigure a team which had the third best record in the Eastern Conference last season along with one of its most bloated payrolls. (We'll forget, for the time being, that they were vaporized by the Hornets in the playoffs.)

What does this mean? The Heat entered this off-season with five free agents who played meaningful minutes on last year's team: Tim Hardaway, Anthony Mason, Dan Majerle, Anthony Carter and Bruce Bowen. Of that fab five, only Carter is certain to be back.

Hardaway? Gone. Mason? Gone. Majerle? Already gone, to Phoenix. Bowen? Already gone, to the Spurs.

Last year, the Heat had a whopping payroll which, under any other, non-luxury tax scenario, would still be thus. The running joke around the NBA in the Riley regime was that he had no idea what his basketball budget was. But, he added, he would know exactly what it was when the Heat won a championship.

Last year looked like it might be that year until Alonzo Mourning went down with his kidney woes. He came back, but it was too little and too late. The Heat were bludgeoned in the playoffs by Charlotte and Riley went on a long vacation to try and sort it out. He's still trying and he's been back from vacation for two months.

	Mason

Mason may end up becoming the Poster Boy for the Luxury Tax Summer. Last year, he was an All-Star and he was playing for a team which historically took care of its players. (Anthony Carter just discovered that little perk with his three-year, $10.8 million deal.) Mason made around $5.5 million and was looking for that one, last, big hit. That was then and this is now.

His agent, Don Cronson, has already said there's no way his client will return to Miami and Riley, who grew weary of Mason, isn't all that interested in a sign and trade unless he can take back significantly less money. That would mean dealing only with an under-the-cap team, none of which apparently has much interest in the high-maintenance Mason, who is 33.

Hardaway is in the same predicament. He made $12 million last year, kind of an Arison parachute. He's got bad wheels, he turns 35 on Sept. 1, and, well, no one is beating down his door, either.

	Grant

	Jones

Three of Riley's players -- Mourning, Eddie Jones and Brian Grant -- account for about $41 million in payroll. Carter and the fringe guys account for about $6 million. Most feel the luxury tax threshold will be between $53 and $54 million. That means Riley has $6 million to play with in free agency, which, in September, might be enough. Right now, it's not, apparently even for Bowen, who is a better-than-average defender and an outright liability on offense.

But the tightened purse strings are only a part of the story. There's also a large cloud of uncertainty that hangs over the Heat in the person of Mourning. Who can say if he'll play next year? If he does, how long will he last and how good will he be? Maybe that's why Patrick Ewing, who is one of Mourning's closest friends, chose instead to play for Orlando. Maybe he knows something the rest of us don't. Maybe that's why Mitch Richmond and Samaki Walker decided to go west, even though Richmond is a southern Florida native and has often spoke wistfully about playing in Miami.

"They have some issues with Alonzo," Majerle told reporters in Phoenix after signing with the Suns. "They don't know whether he's going to come back, so understandingly (sic) they didn't know really which way they really wanted to go."

They still may not know. Already, it seems that Riley has lost three starters from last year's team with, as of yet, no compensation. But he also is willing to put his money on Mourning, Grant and Jones and dare anyone else in the East to beat him. Basically, that's all he can do right now. Most people will tell you that there are half a dozen CBA players as good as Carter, but that doesn't matter to Riley. He knows Carter and what he can and can't do. In this case, familiarity breeds relaxation.

He'll surround his stars with fringe players, coach his you-know-what off, and figure that that just might do it. In the Eastern Conference, it might. But, looking at the denuded Heat in late July, they look like they'll be fighting for a playoff berth instead of a run to the title.

We might have envisioned a situation in which Miami would fall back into the pack due to injuries or illness. It is hard to envision a situation in which Miami becomes mediocre because of money concerns and the inability of Riley to convince free agents to come play for him in a warm weather haven.

But that is exactly what's happening. Riley's aura apparently no longer holds sway with veterans; Ewing, Richmond and Walker all said, 'no thanks' and went elsewhere, as did Majerle. Maybe the prospect of all those tough practices doesn't sit well with the 30-somethings who are looking for work. Ewing certainly knows what it's all about and he opted for the kindler, gentler Doc Rivers.

But it's not just that. The luxury tax has turned Miami from being one of the elite places to play to being just another NBA team with a few high-priced stars and some flotsam and jetsam. Their free agents aren't welcome back, at least not at the price the Heat is willing to pay. In the past, that price was, well, priceless. Now, Miami is like just about everyone else, watching the bottom line as much, if not more so, than the wins and losses.

Peter May, who covers the NBA for the Boston Globe, is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.