Actually, there are two ways of reading that, because the winner won't necessarily be a hatchback or, indeed, have been born 'super'. All right, this is the first time the ΂£19,995 Ford Focus RS (surprise gutter casualty of a few warm-up scraps and current eCOTY wooden spoon holder), the ΂£22,340 VW Golf R32 and Alfa's 147 GTA (΂£23,000 est) have been in the same ring. It's the tear-up everyone's dying to see. But the idea that one car from this high-profile trio is destined to be the best sub-΂£25K performance four-seater on the planet is nothing more than a presumption.

Thing is, the Subaru Impreza Turbo - a saloon, an estate, but never a hatch - virtually invented the superhatch mindset. It was the car with rally DNA you graduated to once you'd climbed to the top of the hot hatch ladder. It represented the next level, a step-change in talent. But for the basic bug-eyed WRX (a curious regression from the previous generation model in pure driver appeal), the sudden evolutionary lunge of the superhatch threatened to turn it into a long-handled implement for cleaning floors.

That a superhatch can be described as a car of a certain size with 200bhp and a tailgate is true, but almost a side issue. The hatch bit is little more than a leftover from the days when the hot hatch was considered a pure breed with tightly defined characteristics. Consider the slippery market-sector semantics. Fact is, car makers deliberately blur the edges these days and aim to provide more inclusivity. Pretty much anything goes in pursuit of performance and cornering prowess: thumping six-cylinder engines, turbocharging, supercharging, four-wheel drive - whatever it takes. The emphasis has shifted. How you generate the necessary power and what you do with it - the dynamic architecture, if you like - has, in many ways, become the story.

Which is why Subaru asked Peter Stevens to wield the facelift knife while it simultaneously administered a mojo injection and slashed the price by a hefty ΂£1500 to match the Focus RS at ΂£19,995.

This showdown wouldn't be honest - or half as fascinating - if it didn't include Subaru's prettier, tweaked and re-energised icon. Not least because the big-brawn, all-drive R32 is just itching for some bring-it-on action and the ΂£24,770 Audi S3 quattro - now with 225bhp - has never been been found wanting when it comes to making its firepower count.

The Mini's unlikely ascent to the sphere of the fashionably urgent-yet-practical is almost as amazing as the ΂£21,500 that German BMW tuner Schnitzer's full-house take on the Cooper S will set you back. But then if ever a car needed more power to fulfil the potential of one of the great front-drive chassis, it's the Mini. As well as boosting power by 23 per cent to 200bhp, the Schnitzer conversion is pervasive and, in places, radical. Ride height, for instance, is lowered by a where'd-it-go? three inches on stiffer springs and the 205/45R-shod, five-spoke 17in alloys are Schnitzer's own. The aesthetic part of the package is extensive, encompassing not just the almost mandatory aluminium pedal set, but also a black or chrome bonnet scoop and Schnitzer-branded floor mats, handbrake grip and gearknob.

Rival BMW tuner Hartge (which offers a significantly less expensive 210bhp Cooper S conversion) might have something to say about it, but Schnitzer reckons its Cooper S is 'the most exciting Mini available'. It'll need to be. The credentials of the superhatch celebrities in this group have been well aired in evo, and they are formidable.

Least powerful but lightest of the trio is the turbocharged, four-cylinder, front-drive Focus RS. It has 212bhp and weighs just 1278kg, giving it a power-to-weight ratio of 169bhp per ton. Peak torque is a still more impressive 229lb ft, which is actually slightly more than the the 147 GTA's normally-aspirated 3.2-litre V6 has (221lb ft) and not that far short of the Golf R32's (also 3.2-litre V6) 236lb ft. In fact, with 175bhp per ton, the Schnitzer Mini bests the all-drive R32 (159bhp per ton) as well as the Focus.

Nothing here can touch the Alfa for power, though. It's no featherweight but, with 247bhp, it doesn't need to be. Its 182bhp per ton doesn't just top the superhatch league table but is also comfortably best of the group. Which means that its Vehicle Dynamic Control (VDC) - working in tandem with the ASR traction control up to 25mph, whereupon it switches itself off if you haven't done so already - has its work cut out. The system uses a combination of power-easing and gentle single-wheel braking to trim excessive yaw movements, unlike the Focus's rally-derived Quaife diff, which spreads Ford's turbo-bulked torque 'softly' between the driven wheels rather than flicking from side to side as with more conventional systems. That's the theory, anyway. What experience we already have with this duo suggests that neither solution comes close to deploying the engine's power with the effortless security of a good four-wheel-drive system. And one of them doesn't even get close.

The only other front-driver in the group, the ΂£16,995 five-door SEAT Leon Cupra R, isn't so burdened. It shares a basic platform with the Golf and S3, of course, but the output of its turbocharged 1.8-litre four (a slightly lower tune variant of the Audi's engine) checks in just below the Ford's, at 210bhp. Don't draw any hard and fast conclusions from that, mind you. Or from the idea that the Seat is ostensibly Spanish. For all its studied Mediterranean flamboyance, the Leon is roughly as Spanish as Michael Schumacher. And, as you soon discover when you thread it down a twisty B-road, similarly hard to faze.

There's plenty of challenging blacktop within easy striking distance of evo HQ, some of it ideal for sifting the great from the good from the mediocre - in particular, the B660, which combines just about every kind of bend you can think of with a variety of surfaces, from the nearly smooth to the distinctly agitated. Real world to the core. And, since this is evo's superhatch decider, we're not leaving the call to one scribbler but putting it to the vote: Richard Meaden, Peter Tomalin, Harry Metcalfe, Jethro Bovingdon and Roger Green have joined me for this two day ΃¼berstrop which, incidentally, also christens the all-new evo testing procedure developed specifically around the facilities at Jonathan Palmer's Bedford Autodrome. Believe us, the winner will be The One.

Several aspects of the Alfa could hand it victory before it's even turned a wheel in anger. One is its hormonally charged presence. It's an achingly pretty car anyway, but we hadn't quite anticipated the knee-weakening, pulse-spiking effect those swollen panels, gaping grilles and gorgeous phone dial-style alloy wheels would have in the context of a black paint job. Not to mention, of course, the neo-supercar bark of its quad-cam, 24-valve 3.2-litre V6 when given a gratuitous blip of throttle. Just knowing it has 247bhp makes you feel good. Harry, having already driven the car in the company of the Focus RS in Italy, is clearly smitten: 'I love the way the big-hearted Alfa has this feeling of excess luxury to go hand-in-hand with its speed,' he says. 'Those padded doors and overstuffed seats swathed in leather give a terrific feeling of well-being. Its bouncer-in-a-dinner-suit styling and engine note are terrific, too.'

The Focus RS also looks the business - on the outside at least. The sense of hardcore, don't-mess-with-this menace is actually achieved with admirable restraint, Ford letting the stronger jawline, perfectly flared arches and heavy-duty Brembo braking hardware - clearly visible between the spokes of its beautifully simple 18-inch alloys - do the talking. If only a comparable degree of subtlety had been lavished on the interior. 'It's trying so hard to be rally-cool,' opines an exasperated Dickie Meaden, 'but succeeds only in plumbing the depths of crass juvenility. It's awful.' He's alluding to touches like the signal-blue leather wrapped around the steering wheel rim that also makes a garish splash on the facings of the deeply bolstered, torso-hugging Sparco buckets. The alloy gearknob and handbrake grip are almost underplayed by comparison. But then there's the green button on the centre console that starts the engine. It would be pretentious in the Alfa, but the Ford's engine sounds so ordinary on ignition, the only sense of occasion pressing the button elicits is mild embarrassment.

VW's deep-core understatement would never let that happen to the perceptibly bulked-up but otherwise only mildly effervescent Golf R32. Green suggests that the look is 'a little heavy-handed' but Harry thinks it's 'clean and powerful' and particularly tasteful, comfortable and ergonomically sussed on the inside - the kind of car you could confidently recommend to a friend. Similar equivocation surrounds the design of the Impreza which, although a massive improvement on that of the outgoing model, doesn't really cut it in this company. 'Gawky and under-tyred,' as Tomalin would have it, while Green is underwhelmed by the interior which, while the slickest and most comfortable yet for an Impreza, lacks the quality so evident in the Golf and ever-classy Audi.

The Leon and Mini, come to that, too. If the meticulously-crafted Teutonic style of the Audi S3 is beginning to look a tad anodyne these days, there's more regional flavour on offer here. Green accuses the Seat's interior of being 'borderline Halford's special' which the rest of us think is a bit unkind - especially since it all works so well. Boy racer overtones, sure, but hardly running rampant as in the Focus. The Mini's interior is much stronger medicine, even without the frankly rather fussy attentions of Schnitzer. Hugely cheeky - take it or leave it.

Not as cheeky as its performance, though. That's 'cheeky' as in 'not really quick enough'. It hit 60mph in 7.3sec and 100mph in 18.7sec, taking 0.4sec and 2.6sec out of the standard Cooper S. Brawny certainly, and the track was damp. But it's not really the work of the car with the second best power-to-weight ratio in the group or one commanding a ΂£7K premium. That said, it just shades the Leon to 60mph (7.4sec) and trails only fractionally at the ton (18.4sec). But the Focus - which gives away 6bhp per ton on paper - eats it alive, recording 5.9sec and 14.9sec for the same benchmark sprints.

In fact, and slightly ludicrous as it might seem, not even the 247bhp Alfa can force its nose in front. It just about lives with the RS to 60mph (6.0sec) but, come the ton, it's trailing by over half a second, at 15.5sec. The four-wheel drive and 221bhp of the Impreza don't fare much better, the WRX lagging slightly behind at 60mph (6.1sec) and 100mph (15.7sec). Though the Japanese saloon does hold the whip-hand over its old all-drive sparring partner from Ingolstadt, the Audi S3 (6.6 and 17.5sec), and the barrel-chested 237bhp R32 from Wolfsburg (6.4 and 16.3sec).

Against the clock, the group splits fairly evenly into the fast (Mini, Leon, S3) and the furious (Impreza, 147, Focus) with the Golf being somewhere in between. On the road, though, things aren't nearly as clear-cut.

There's an obvious (almost blinding) contrast between big capacity, multi-cylinder, normally-aspirated charisma and four-pot, forced induction efficiency. And it's at this point that the Ford's fabulous performance at the test track seems curiously at odds with the subjective expectations of the hard-driving enthusiast.

First, the engine offers little in the way of aural thrills. Hard-edged and throaty is the best it can muster when trying hard. Second, when it's not trying hard - admittedly only below about 2500rpm - it's not really trying at all, and the arrival of the turbo-boosted action is sudden which, in turn, has knock-on consequences for the Quaife diff and steering.

The early miles and test track sessions generate some pungent initial observations, especially from Meaden who's at the sharp end of the figuring. He puts his finger on a kind of negative symbiosis within the Ford that will become more irksome as the test goes on. 'The Focus makes incredibly hard work of going fast on the sort of roads that it should breeze,' he comments. 'Torque-steer isn't the same as steering feel, and yet you're supposed to regard the RS's wrist-spraining antics as a dynamic badge of honour.'

He isn't impressed, but the Audi's propulsive anonymity is even harder to forgive. Dickie is full of indifference: 'Possibly the most passionless internal combustion engine ever made. I'm sure the torque curve is fat and flat but, Jeez, is it boring. Zanussi make better sounding motors.' Contributing his trademark understatement, Tomalin describes the 1.8-litre turbo unit as 'not terribly charismatic'. It's not terribly charismatic in the Leon Cupra R, either. But curiously it does sound more interesting (despite the 15bhp deficit) and is much easier to like and appreciate in the context of a ΂£17K car; the S3, remember, costs nearly ΂£8000 more. Best of the small turbo motors, without question, is the Scooby's 2-litre flat-four which is smoother, revvier and more subtly aggressive of note than ever before. Despite the latest tweaks (power and torque up by 6bhp and 6lb ft) flexibility isn't a WRX strength, added to which it's the only five-speeder in an otherwise six-speed group. But it hardly matters. So progressive and lag-free are the Impreza's turbo characteristics, so fast and sweet its gearchange and so perfectly placed its pedals, that as a fast B-road proposition it makes the Focus seem like an attention-seeking brat.

The most satisfying motors of all, though, belong to the Alfa and the Golf. Of the two, the Alfa's is the undoubted star. Apart from the stonking acceleration and mighty in-gear urgency, it's just a wonderful thing to use. Meaden's assessment doesn't stint on the hedonistic adjectives: 'It's hard to get enough of this engine. Whether you're luxuriating in the abundant low-rev response or enjoying the muscular mid-range and musical top-end, it always delivers an exotic, illicit sense of power.'

It's just a shame such a sensational (but inevitably weighty) V6 blunts turn-in and overworks the traction control (or turns the front wheels into fireworks if you switch it off). The steering's disappointingly light and feel-less, too. That said, the Alfa does feel almost absurdly rapid between the bends and, importantly, maintains a rewarding sense of poise and fluidity. Not the sharpest tool in the box, maybe, but good enough to exploit the treasures of the engine.

Short intermediate gearing and aggressive part-throttle response make the Golf feel even punchier, though the figures say otherwise. 'The gearing can seem too frantic,' says Meaden. 'But you just need to be prepared to tackle a corner in a gear higher to make it work.' And above 3000rpm it does start to sound special - not obviously V6-ee but an intriguing melange of plush and purposeful, acquiring increasing edge as it hungrily piles on the revs.

And this is when it begins to occur to you what an extraordinary device the Golf R32 is. The key is the exploitability of its performance. While the Haldex all-wheel-drive system balances the weight distribution and provides low-loss transfer for the power and torque, the springs and dampers unite in a convincing display of iron-fisted control, masking the Golf's bulk with resolute grip and surprising agility.

Jethro is slightly shocked by what it can do. He says: 'Stepping from the WRX to the R32 is very odd. You expect the Subaru to show the Golf to have nose-heavy, lumpen handling, You expect it to deliver the killer blow with more performance and more cross-country pace. But it doesn't quite work like that. The Golf feels instantly more responsive. It turns-in quickly with barely a hint of understeer and as you get hard on the power it digs in and launches you out of corners without any of the anticipated wallowy histrionics. In fact, it stays composed no matter what you throw at it. The ride is a little hardcore but the payoff is the sort of dynamic package that recent Golfs having been crying out for.'

Harry concurs: 'The R32 feels tied-down in a very un-VW-like way; that four-wheel drive adds security, meaning all the torque of the big V6 doesn't get wasted in a flurry of wheelspin as it does in the Alfa.' But he isn't so sure the Golf has the measure of the Impreza when it comes to covering typical Blighty blacktop, adding, 'The Scooby is designed to devour UK B-roads. It's exciting, flattering, flowing and so, so fast. A real surprise is how the ride has improved as well, to the point it would be easy to live with this WRX day to day.'

Tomalin is equally convinced by the Scooby's chassis. 'The very first corner that you drive hard, it feels so playful, so malleable,' he enthuses. 'You can feel every tiny change in the car's attitude as you play the throttle. And the steering's perfectly weighted.' And Bovingdon reckons the WRX re-establishes the Impreza as the ultimate all-weather machine for reasonable money.

True enough. It's obvious already that the Impreza is a car so transformed that it's probably bagged itself a place on the podium. Not if the Alfa can help it, though. And the Leon's currency is rising by the mile: so much ability, such sensible money.

Meaden is in no doubt that he prefers it to the Focus: 'The Leon deals with its power far more convincingly, despite relying on electronic traction and stability control. There's virtually no torque-steer, plenty of traction (even when systems are off), and the chassis responds to being grabbed by the scruff, with an exploitable, knife-edge quality if you're prepared to provoke it. The steering has minimal assistance and genuine feel. And the front-end delivers instantaneous turn-in. Even the tail feels part of the action, ever-mobile but rarely unruly, quelling understeer almost before it has a chance to manifest itself.'

By a large consensus - and in spite of a rather long-winded and gritty gearchange - it gets the nod over the S3, too. 'Typically Audi,' Meaden calls it - both in the positive and pejorative senses. 'It's more about grip than handling, he continues, 'and consequently secure and efficient at dismembering a B-road. It flows better than earlier S-model Audis and the damping is more rounded than I remember. But it's an instantly forgettable experience. It's also fiercely expensive in this company.' Tomalin agrees, complaining, 'You feel slightly detached, one step away from the action.' Green likes it slightly more: 'On the circuit it was really good. It doesn't have the initial dynamism of the Golf; turn-in isn't quite as focused. But it's only a shade off the mark.'

Talking of turn-in, nothing else quite measures up to the Schnitzer Cooper S. But then that would also have been the case with the standard article. In the round, the tuned car seems to raise as many questions as it answers. Meaden, for one, isn't bowled over by the performance. 'It feels (and sounds) pokier than the standard S,' he comments, 'but the performance figures are far from startling in this company. We've always marvelled at the Cooper S's ability to punch way beyond its weight. I think today it picked on the wrong blokes.'

Harry has driven the rival Hartge-converted car so knows the truth in this. He concedes that the Schnitzer feels like a Cooper S with more power and low-down torque but reckons it lacks the top-end 'fizz' that makes the Hartge car so addictive. Dickie's theory is that the bog-standard S, on 16in wheels, is optimum. He explains: 'It rides well, steers clean and keen, doesn't sound too stressed and doesn't overwhelm the front tyres when you flick off the ASR. Up the power, drop the suspension and increase the wheel size and rather than feel like more than the sum of its parts, it feels out of sorts. It's a sobering lesson in the law of diminishing returns.'

The Schnitzer car actually copes with 17s better than the standard S, but the ride suffers. Dickie compared it to a brick falling down stairs, a statement everyone who drove it at speed over what, in the other cars, was an innocuous enough depression in the tarmac, could confirm as our heads bashed the roof. Harry: 'The rear of the car soon runs out of ideas on undulations thanks to the extra-low ride height.' It has a sweet gearchange and well-spaced pedals but the Mini was the only car whose brakes came in for any real criticism, having a comparatively soft pedal feel and buckling under pressure on the circuit.

And the circuit was where the Focus did by far its best work, though even there torque-steer was an ever-present corollary of cornering under power. Simply stunning brakes, though. Masses of grip, too. So where does it all go wrong for the RS? Let's put it this way. On the B660, the Focus has all the composure of someone who's necked a bottle of Tabasco and tried to wash away the taste with a pint of Red Bull.

Dickie likens the experience to strapping yourself to a rodeo bull. 'Involving and absorbing, yes, but only because you are utterly focussed on not falling off the thing. You simply can't enjoy driving the RS fast - or even sit back and admire the admittedly tenacious traction - when you're fighting to keep the car away from the verge/hedge/ditch/on-coming traffic. If it had 300bhp I could (sort of) forgive it, but when you do manage to find a stretch of smooth road it doesn't feel fast enough to excuse the histrionics. If this is the best Ford's sharpest and most intuitive engineering brains can come up with, I despair.'

Tomalin is no less scathing: 'In the RS you discover bumps and cambers which simply don't exist in other fast cars. Combined with the comedy torque-steer, overtaking other cars feels like Russian roulette.' Green is spooked, too. 'It's not a flowing experience,' he laments, 'it's a trying-hard-not-to-crash experience.'

Which means that, for all its straight-line pace and sense of purpose, we're finally forced to declare the Focus RS a dud. Harry nails the reason in a sentence: 'All the hype cannot disguise the deeply flawed chassis in this car. Yes it flies on track, but this is a road car and here it borders on the dangerous in the UK. It's as if the turbo lights up so quickly it catches the clever diff by surprise, tugging the steering wheel in the opposite direction to the one you'd expect. This car tightens its line rather than running wide under power and that's what makes it so disconcerting. Why they didn't soften the boost build-up is inexplicable to me. It ruins the driving experience for most people.'

Next to be eliminated is the S3. It may be good. It may be classy. But it is getting old and it is rather dull. Not to mention too expensive.

'No-brainer,' reckons Harry. 'You'd take the three grand cheaper Golf every time.' And so you would. Cash considerations kill the Schnitzer Mini's chances, too. It simply doesn't make sense at a basic price of ΂£21,500. Harry's advice is to spend your ΂£7000 elsewhere. 'It finishes this far up the list because the base car is so talented rather than anything the conversion offers on top,' says the boss.

The fight between the Alfa and SEAT is close. Sex and sensuality versus value and virtue. Dickie sums up the pros and cons. 'One look at the 147 and you're seduced (much like the 156 GTA). But where the saloon stumbles, the smaller hatchback just about carries it off. The Leon is a better balanced package, though. SEAT should be proud of the Cupra R. Fine value, quick, cool and characterful, it's the car Ford should have built, instead of torque-steering up a blind alley with the RS.' An honourable fourth place to the Alfa, then, though it could easily pip the Leon for third if pure desire and a penchant for raunchy Italians lights your fire.

Which leaves just two. Impreza or Golf? The previous WRX was woefully off the pace. The revised model has the minerals: more steering feel, punchier power delivery and an altogether sharper sense of purpose.

Dickie: 'Sure it lacks the youthful aggression of the more musclebound superhatches, but the way it dissects a challenging road is something to marvel at. At just under ΂£20K it represents amazing value, not to mention practicality, and while it lacks the visual fizz of the Cupra or the allure of the Alfa, its street cred has been restored.'

Harry's a huge fan, too: 'If you want the real deal in terms of on-road ability, the Impreza is back on top. But for desirability the Golf just pips it.'

That's right: Golf beats Scooby in evo group test. And they said it could never happen. But as you must have gathered by now, the R32 isn't any old Golf. 'It would be easy to scoff and say that all-wheel drive and a 3.2-litre V6 is utterly ridiculous in a hatchback,' says Dickie. 'But the R32 is such a convincing package, all the ingredients seem perfectly justified. It has the presence of an RS Audi and the honed, detailed dynamic polish and behaviour of an original quattro. And all for a measly ΂£22K, something I find amazing. The best hot hatch in ages, not to mention the best VW for ages, perhaps ever.'

For the time being, it really doesn't get any better than this.

Thanks to Autecnique for supplying the Alfa 147 GTA, which is available now for test drives. Call them on 01722 338585 or visit www.autecnique.co.uk