GOLFWATCH OUT TO PLEASE PLUTOCRATS.

Byline: KEVIN MODESTI

Golf has always been, in an ironic sort of way, our most egalitarian spectator sport.

I say ironic because playing the game is largely the privilege of people with time and money to burn, not 9-to-5 wage earners. It happens mostly at country clubs, where an errant tee shot might break up the Debutante Ball.

Yet the experience of watching golf - by attending a PGA tournament - is about as exclusive as Woodstock.

You'll find the cashmere types strolling gracefully betwixt the fairways at the local PGA Tour stop. But you'll also see, standing right next to the rich guys, a couple of sweaty college kids in worn sneakers with beer cans in their hands.

Getting past the gates costs less than the cheapest Lakers tickets. And as long as you don't sprint naked through a bunker, belch during Freddie Couples' backswing or take the tournament sponsor's name in vain, you pretty much have the run of the course.

It's like the left-field pavilion at Dodger Stadium, all general admission. And if you want a close-up view of a particular golfer or a particular green, you have to earn it. You get to that hole a few minutes early and you stake out your spot behind the ropes.

If Mr. and Mrs. Howell don't like it, they can go sit in the sponsor's tent, sip Chablis and curse the poor.

Well, as eminently fair as this sounds, apparently it was too good to last.

In a sign that golf has risen, or sunk, to the economic level of basketball, football, baseball and hockey, rich folks will be able to buy front-row seats to the Nissan Open when Tiger Woods and the pro golf tour comes to Riviera Country Club in Pacific Palisades this week.

I'm looking at a press packet announcing something called GolfWatch, advertised as ``the ultimate spectator experience.'' It will be offered not only at Riviera but also at PGA events in New York, Denver and Houston this year.

``This is golf's version of the NBA courtside seats,'' Jack Vickers - whose ``vision'' is credited for GolfWatch's creation - is quoted saying.

This is what we're told about it:

It will cost $1,500 a person for the length of the tournament, a mere $300 a day.

Among the benefits will be ``preferred viewing'' areas at the greens, and ``express walking lanes'' for those who don't want to risk contact with the common folk.

Also, GolfWatch fans will be admitted to tents where they'll have better food and drink, closed-circuit television, telephones and fax machines.

Also, these special fans will be offered concierge service to help them make, for instance, post-golf dinner reservations.

The GolfWatch creators promise this won't ``diminish the golf experience for the rest of the gallery.'' That is, the premium-ticket holders won't be standing in front of the hoi polloi, blocking our view.

They will, though, be taking space they ought to be willing to fight for.

Those ``Oasis'' watering holes on the course are just one of the perks.

``The `Home Pavilion' near the clubhouse will serve as an on-site hospitality headquarters,'' the announcement says. ``GolfWatch guests will be greeted upon entrance and familiarized with the services and the express walking lanes.''

Mr. Howell, that's the express walking lane. Sorry, but you'll have to do your own walking.

The press packet includes an artist's conception of how this will work. It shows a man and woman - he in a leisure suit, she in a pant suit and bonnet - and their ponytailed daughter. They look like they're at the zoo. I'm not sure who the animals are. The players, perhaps. You and me, maybe.

The announcement goes on: ``It is at the Home Pavilion that guests will be provided specially designed fairway folding seats and umbrellas, if rain is forecast.''

And combs, I hope, if wind is forecast.

Apparently, GolfWatch is intended mostly for corporate types looking for a way to entertain clients. I say apparently, because I'm not sure if that's what it means when it says, ``This program is a turnkey client entertainment/- hospitality offering.''

Charming.

The promoters compare GolfWatch to courtside seats and stadium skyboxes. ``A premium ticket's true value is in its perceived exclusivity,'' they say. ``It allows holders to feel distinguished and highly regarded.''

They're allowed to feel that way if they want. Personally, I have higher regard for the guys in the worn sneakers who elbow their way through 18 holes fueled by hot dogs and beer.