Hotfoot!
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GERRY LARKIN (12) aspires to be a football star. His only problem: he stinks. His co-ordination is zip; he can't dribble, can't shoot, can't play defense. In short, he can't play. He's the lad that's always chosen last when teams are picked after school. And the team that gets him always considers it a handicap when forced to use Gerry, because Gerry invariably loses the game for them. That said, he does have a couple of friends who have much the same problem: guys and girls who love the sport but simply can't play. There's FRAN CURTAIN, keeper and team captain and the brains behind the team (...
GERRY LARKIN (12) aspires to be a football star. His only problem: he stinks. His co-ordination is zip; he can't dribble, can't shoot, can't play defense. In short, he can't play. He's the lad that's always chosen last when teams are picked after school. And the team that gets him always considers it a handicap when forced to use Gerry, because Gerry invariably loses the game for them. That said, he does have a couple of friends who have much the same problem: guys and girls who love the sport but simply can't play. There's FRAN CURTAIN, keeper and team captain and the brains behind the team (if, indeed, any brains can be found); BIG JIMMY, a sloshing ton of lard who can steamroll over anyone on the field; the BRIGHT BROTHERS-ALMOST and NOT QUITE-twins who are definitely not the brightest of people; HAROLD SMITH, the small cowardly back who hates any kind of confrontation; and TOMMY REYNOLDS, whose Coke-bottle thick glasses spell disaster on the field when he loses them. This inept group of individuals come together to form The HotShots. The kids will play against just about anyone who will take them on. The result, of course, is embarrassing. Scores of 27-nil are not uncommon. Hotshot team members sliding into goalposts, taking out referees in blindside tackles, wiping out opposing parental visitors in "co-ordinated" offensive strikes are all par for the course. The result: they becomes the butt of the country. Until LUCKY LUCY (Beelzebub disguised as a talent scout) visits them. Lucky insists that with just a little of his special coaching, the Hotshots will become the most successful team in history. The cost: a lot of sweat and work, of course. And one more item: the souls of each of the team players. After a little hesitation, and despite protests from Gerry, the team signs Lucky's Temporary Contract. Little do they know that the end result will be an eternity of low-paid coal carrying in a hot little place due south.
