At 32, Riley is at the center of one of college football's boldest and most fascinating reinventions: the Oklahoma offense. He has been called a whiz kid, an innovator, the future of FBS and the last hope for the Bob Stoops era, and the faithful haven't been timid in letting the boy genius know the expectations in Norman. At a Meet the Sooners event before the season, Riley, a polite, self-effacing northwest Texas native who looks as if he could be (and, according to his adoring old high school teachers, should be) teaching Math 225 in the building next door, was approached by an elderly woman in a scarlet OU T-shirt. "How are you doing, ma'am?" Riley asked. "I'll be doing just fine," she snapped back, "if you run the damn ball this year."
