Flashing footwork, clever passing, vigorous tackling, spectacular goalkeeping, and a huge "mid-week" crowd roused to a great pitch of excitement. These were some of the features of a hectic game at Claremont Road, on Monday, between Hampstead and Barnet, both making a desperate bid for championship honours in the Athenian League.

At the end of a dramatic struggle the visitors emerged triumphant. But it might well have been otherwise, and the merits of the margin of three goals to one will certainly be disputed as hotly as the cup final touch-line incident.

Possibly it was the presence of a pessimist on the popular side which turned the scales against Hampstead just when they seemed to have the game within their grasp. This "Jonah" of the match stood with an umbrella open for an hour-and-a-half, although the rain scurried off as soon as the players ran on to the field.

Every time the home side wanted to advance in the second half, when they were kicking towards the housing estate, they had to pass the "brolly," and it seemed as if this sinister black object cast a spell upon them and put them out of their stride. There were also, of course, Hughes and Garrett, a very formidable pair of backs, who stood out like a wall between the ball and Jones in the framework behind.

All the pretty scheming of Evans and company could not unsettle this stolid barrier, and another, and, perhaps, more troublesome obstacle because of his agility, was the enterprising McGowan, playing a fine part, particularly with his head, at centre-half in the visitors' defence.

For the first half-an-hour Hampstead played as though they had been spending a week in brine baths preparing for the fray. Evans and Minter gave Jones quite a frantic time in goal soon after the kick-off and many well-directed shots were, somehow, kept out. Once, during this period, it was sheer perverseness which frustrated the home eleven. Butland fastened on to the ball about 20 yards out and put the full weight of his sturdy figure behind a first-time drive. Hughes was not prepared for it, but his head got in the way and saved a certain goal.

At the interval neither side had scored, but the 200 supporters who had accompanied Barnet were none too happy over their team's prospects. Hampstead had certainly been in the ascendancy for the greater part of the tussle and were merely unlucky over their inability to ram home their advantage.

What happened in the visiting dressing room during the five minutes' rest is not known, but the result of the discussion was that Barnet came back grimly determined not to be trifled with any longer. After that they moved like real champions and very quickly had the Hampstead defence in a tangle. The first goal came when the game had been resumed for eight minutes and it was one of that unsatisfactory kind that usually succeed where better efforts have failed. Constable found himself in a gap quite a good distance from the target. He took a pot shot and the ball travelled waist high to Smith. There was a cheer as the goalkeeper stopped it, but the noise turned to a gasp of dismay when he let the ball slip from his hands and roll into the net. No one seemed more surprised at the outcome of this endeavour than the forward who set the ball in motion.

Then there was a rare spurt by Hampstead, and for the next ten minutes they were training every muscle for the equaliser. Evans had a splendid chance of finishing off a piece of skilful manoeuvring, but while he was waiting, as if to calculate which foot would do better service, a defender stepped in and robbed him.

It was Hughes who finally presented Hampstead with the much-desired goal. One of the few mistakes he made was to handle the ball, blatantly, several yards outside the penalty area. Butland, who took the free-kick, curled the ball over the other players, but Lloyd, the smallest man on the field, managed to reach it with his head and nod it into the net.

This was an excellent piece of work thoroughly deserving of the applause it received, but if it had a heartening effect at all it was on the wrong side.

From this point onwards Barnet played in text-book style and only two minutes had elapsed when Sutton put over a high pass which Morris neatly converted. Hampstead made spasmodic attempts after this to recover their fortunes, but all their hopes were dashed eight minutes later when Morris again scored, this time from a perfect centre by Pullen.