(FORTUNE Magazine) – When the Augusta National Golf Club (whose august roster includes such CEOs as AT&T's Robert Allen and GE's Jack Welch) hosts its 59th Masters Tournament this April, members' blue blood will boil: Just 300 feet outside the National's own front gate, a new club has set up shop! ("Belvedere, Belvedere--more ice! Mr. Welch's julep has begun to glow!")

The interloper first called itself the Augusta Club, but Augusta National protested, and the name was changed to the Double Eagle.

Nomenclature aside, it's hard to mistake one club for the other: Augusta National is the inspiration of sports legend Bobby Jones; its clubhouse sits midst Georgia's finest dogwood and magnolia. Double Eagle is the inspiration of Intersport Television, producer of sports shows such as Dick Vitale's Slam Bam Jam. Its clubhouse--a converted Piggly Wiggly--sits midst Buicks in a shopping center across the street from Augusta National. Members of one club can reminisce about the time Arnie made a birdie on a such-and-such hole; members of the other club will have to wonder whether he didn't once buy one from their meat department.

Double Eagle claims to have sold some 15 memberships so far (at $25,000 to $35,000 each) to corporations seeking entertainment space. Augusta National confines glad-handing to its clubhouse--off-limits to everyone but members and a few guests. Thus there is pent-up demand for the amenities Double Eagle offers: a place to get in out of the rain, watch TV, send a fax, get a shoeshine, or enjoy a sit-down buf- fet meal. A maximum of 100 companies can each entertain up to ten guests every day of Masters play. (Double Eagle is closed--and stripped--after the tourney.)

Neighbors like Domino's Pizza and the Fred Astaire Dance Studio say Double Eagle is a good mall citizen. But can Augusta National and the Double Eagle coexist? According to one description, relations between the two are "cool but civil"--about what you'd expect if Barry Manilow and Van Cliburn had ever become neighbors.

- Alan Farnham