No wonder Dick Baker, the tournament director of the Nike South Carolina Classic, felt somewhat dyspeptic last week about the fact that his golf tournament occupied the same dates on the calendar as the Masters. After all, it's no coincidence that neither the Senior PGA Tour nor the LPGA tour dared to schedule an event last week. So what exactly was the Nike tour thinking when it rescheduled its annual stop in Florence, S.C., just 130 miles from Augusta National, from May to Masters week? "My initial reaction to the plan was a major case of heartburn," Baker admits. "Let's just say we weren't worried about stealing away thunder from the Masters. Some people were afraid we might throw a party and nobody would show up."

The South Carolina Classic's most obvious concern was that the entire golf world would be overcome by the spell that briefly befuddled Tim Simpson. A native of Atlanta, Simpson found himself driving east on I-20 last Wednesday afternoon when a strong gravitational pull grabbed him. "I got near Augusta National, and all of a sudden my Suburban wanted to exit right there at Washington Road," said Simpson, one of 21 former Masters invitees in the Nike field. "It was a weird feeling to stay in the left lane and keep on driving to play in the South Carolina Classic."

The Classic's organizers must have questioned their sense as well when, on the day the tournament started, there wasn't a single mention of their event in The State, South Carolina's largest newspaper. (There were, however, three full stories on the Masters.) "I guess it's like the Doobie Brothers opening for the Beatles," said Greg Twiggs, a Masters participant in '89 who finished tied for 25th in Florence. "This tournament is a good event, but it pales in the face of history."

In an attempt to attract a gallery - any gallery - to the Country Club of South Carolina, the Classic promised up-to-the-minute Masters updates on the course's five electronic leader boards. Tee times in the Classic concluded before network coverage of the Masters began, and fans were encouraged to stay at the club and watch the Masters on four big-screen televisions in a courtesy tent behind the clubhouse or on monitors in each of the 10 corporate boxes around the 18th green.

Mark Lye was about the closest thing to a Masters champion in Florence. In '84 at Augusta, Lye held the lead at the start of the final round but fell to sixth place. The only green jacket he owns today is the aqua windbreaker he wears as a color commentator for The Golf Channel. "O.K., so it's not the green jacket," Lye said. "But in some ways it's better. Mine, you can actually wear off the course, and it's waterproof."

Such is the new feisty attitude of the Nike tour, which has been enervated recently by the impact of its alumni on the PGA Tour. In fact, Nike tour expatriates won four of the last five events leading up to the Masters. Paul Stankowski's victory at the BellSouth Classic on April 7 occurred just one week after he won the Nike Louisiana Open. Tommy Tolles, a winner on the Nike tour in both 1993 and '94, ranks fifth on the PGA Tour money list. Another Nike export, Scott McCarron, who got his invite to the Masters by winning in New Orleans, tied for 10th in his first appearance at Augusta.

All this positive publicity translated into surprising success for the Classic. The event drew a tournament-record 14,000 fans for the week, and the exclusivity of Augusta's guest list helped produce the Classic's strongest-ever field. The winner was Dave Rummells, who is fittingly a refugee from the PGA Tour. (Tataurangi, a former PGA Tour player from New Zealand, tied for 40th.)

Still, neither Rummells nor any other player at the Classic wants to come back to Florence next year. They all have loftier aspirations. As a mischievous teen Hugh Royer III sneaked onto the Augusta National course through a gap in the fence beside the 11th hole. Like all his Nike brethren, Royer believes that he will someday enter those hallowed grounds as a Masters competitor rather than as a trespasser. On Thursday evening he joined several dozen players in a bass-fishing tournament, angling to pocket an extra 250 bucks, the prize for catching the largest bass. "It's no secret that everyone here would rather be playing down the road in Augusta," said Royer. "We're all dreaming of the moment we land the big one."