MEMBERS TEED OFF

The signs materialized early this summer, under the oil paintings outside the pro shop, on the grand piano alongside the Happy Hour hors d’oeuvres. They were understated. At Riviera Country Club, all signs are understated. “R.C.C. Members,” the placards reminded all who passed through the sumptuous Pacific Palisades golf course, “Sunday, August 13, the entire clubhouse and golf facility will be closed all day for a special event.”

The “event” remained nameless, because no one needed to name it. Eighty-five thousand dollars to join, $590-a-month individual dues, $300-a-quarter food minimum--people make it their business to know what’s going on.

“Democrats!” a veteran duffer groused, surveying the links from the terrace.

“Taking over the place!” nodded his graying golf partner.

“Kicking the members out for their convention!” a third added, shoving back in disgust Tuesday afternoon from his postgame fruit plate. “It’s all about money now.”

And they say that all the drama has been leached from political conventions. In fact, a convention-week fund-raiser here has stirred up all sorts of sound and fury, not to mention assorted claims of arm-twisting and partisan intrigue. The Governor Gray Davis Governor’s Cup Tournament is expected to raise up to $500,000 for the California Democratic Party and to kick off the Democratic National Convention in high style. At Riviera, where it is to be held, however, members are fuming that political fixers have hijacked their club with the blessing of the establishment’s Japanese owners. Fat-cat spat or object lesson in global economics, all sides have framed the tale as a sign of the political times.

What’s stipulated is that, on Aug. 13--and over the objections of Riviera’s 600-plus dues payers--the golf facilities, off a western stretch of Sunset Boulevard, will be completely closed to members for the first Sunday in club history. No showing up at the driving range. No mixed couples at brunch time. No free passes of the sort members get when the club gets taken over for, say, the Nissan Open or the PGA Championship. Not even if you’re Sly Stallone or Peter Falk or--well, not O.J. anymore, but one of the many other luminaries who pay to roam the links at Riviera. Instead, according to Michihiro “Mike” Chikubu, the club’s managing director, the course will be taken over by fund-raisers for the state Democratic Party, from the breathtaking ocean view to the Ben Hogan statue overlooking the 18th fairway.

Garry South, senior political advisor to Gov. Davis, said 144 governors, members of Congress, political names and show business people are expected. The ante is $15,000 for a foursome, or $100,000 for a full sponsorship, which includes branding opportunities, blocks of tickets, free golf bags and, generally speaking, South said, “pretty much anything they want.” Club members couldn’t be admitted, both he and Chikubu said, because only 144 golfers can play at a time in “shotgun” tournaments, where everyone tees off simultaneously, and it had to be on a Sunday so as not to interfere with official convention business.

Chikubu said that, in granting the Democrats this unorthodox accommodation, he realized that the club management would be stirring up 600 of the most ardent golfers on the West Coast. This could be done with impunity, however, because Riviera, which was bought in 1989 by a Japanese real estate developer, is a non-equity club. This means that--despite initiation fees the size of a condo mortgage and dues the size of a car payment--members have scant legal say in club business and can’t share ownership.

Member after member, for example, refused to speak for the record because of a clause in the club bylaws that permits the owners to expel anyone unilaterally. The expulsion of O.J. Simpson after his arrest (at the behest of the members) was the most famous instance. But the case most often cited by members interviewed this week was that of a onetime greens committee chairman who, in 1996, complained to Golf World magazine about the club’s maintenance practices. He was suspended after the comments came out, sued the club, lost and ended up being kicked out permanently.

A 20-member Board of Governors has traditionally represented the members with management, and its chairman, Robert L. Esensten, said that when the board was told of the fund-raiser, it asked that management reconsider. It refused. Chikubu says the decision was economic. Riviera plans $1 million worth of work next year on, among other things, the course’s renowned No. 8 hole, and dues--which rose this week--can be increased only so much before the club loses members, he said.

“The members are shocked, and I understand,” he said, leaning forward, his face tender with compassion. But between greens fees and banquet charges, he expects the Governor’s Cup to net Riviera more than $100,000, almost twice what he’d get for a typical tournament.

But at least 10 club members--speaking, as noted above, on condition of anonymity--say that Democrats were actually accommodated by Michael R. Yamaki, a Los Angeles criminal defense lawyer and Democratic insider who, as a sideline, has advised Riviera and its owner, Noburu Watanabe, for years. Yamaki, whose “M. Yamaki” parking spot at Riviera is only a slot farther from the front door than the spot for the absentee owner, “N. Watanabe,” was tapped by Davis to be the governor’s appointments secretary in 1998.

“Michael essentially makes the decisions [for Riviera’s owners] and he works for the governor and he said, basically, that this was going to happen,” said one member who was involved in the discussions.

Added another, in a separate interview: “Mike Yamaki delivered Riviera, which makes him the man.”

Yamaki, according to the governor’s office, is out of the country and could not be reached for comment. However, Chikubu denied that the governor’s key aide and the Watanabe family’s longtime advisor “delivered” anything.

“Mr. Watanabe was honored to host this convention, because it is news all over the world,” Chikubu said. “It is because of Michael Yamaki’s position that people point to him. But that is only rumor. Practically speaking, I am the man. And Democrat, Republican--it makes no difference. The second time Mr. Clinton tried to play here, I said no to him because of crowds and short notice. Later I found out he got in anyway as a guest of a member. But politics is not it. I accepted only for business purposes.”

South, the governor’s political advisor, says that Yamaki brought up the idea after he had been approached by a tournament promoter. The promoter had a friend at Riviera. “He [Yamaki] just said, ‘If you’re interested, here’s the name of the guy to follow up with,’ and that was it,” South said.

The promoter was underbid, and at least one Democratic source blamed the discontent at Riviera on rabble-rousing by his friends. But both club management and Esensten say a majority--not just a handful--of members were upset, and chiefly because their privileges were being revoked on one of the week’s most popular golfing days.

In any case, South said, Riviera should be grateful for the business.

“We didn’t ask to put this convention in L.A.,” he said. “It was put here by the [Democratic National Committee] with the active proselytization of the Republican Mayor Richard Riordan. Last time I checked, a year had 52 Sundays. I don’t think a day’s inconvenience is an undue sacrifice for $130 million in economic activity.”

Maybe not, said a longtime Riviera member, a businessman who concedes that he “will make money off this convention.” But what does it mean when the party of welfare moms and blue-collar workers is battling country clubbers so its leaders can challenge each other to $15,000 rounds of golf?

“If they have this little regard for the members of the Riviera Country Club,” the businessman--a Republican--wickedly wondered, “how much regard do you suppose they have for the real little guy?”