If rigid societal hierarchal structures really were as effective as most would have you believe, Peter Crouch would be emptying your bins right now. But he's not. Well he might be, but in that case it's just a hobby. A weird hobby.
After all, let's look at the facts. Lanky. Goofy. A little bit googly-eyed. Plus he was born in....checks Wikipedia.....Macclesfield for crying out loud!
If he attended to any school worth its salt he would have had any ambition knocked out of him by now, and he'd be pondering the ideal balance between popping an extra jumper on for the winter snap or just finally agreeing that his fag-hag wife with five kids hanging from her udders can flick the central heating on for five minutes.
Long story short he shouldn't be able to succeed. But he is, and you only have yourselves to blame bullies at....checks Wikipedia.....Drayton Manner High School. Hang your heads in shame.
Living he dream
In fact, he's got pretty much the perfect life. He's rich. He's successful. He's adored - sure it's by people in Stoke, which is a bit like saying Richard Keys admires your forward thinking outlook on life - but he's adored nonetheless.
Plus.....have you seen his wife? For crying out loud...whichever way you carve it up, Peter Crouch is winning at life, and the latest example of that came on Saturday. The spindly striker scored against Arsenal after just 19 seconds to set up a 3-2 victory over the Gunners that has heaped the pressure on Arsene Wenger.
Then his day got even better. How you ask? (No one asked that really did they? No one's made it this far down the article after that frankly derivative intro have they? Sad face.) Well I will tell you. He attended a Kasabian gig at the O2 Academy in Brixton, which formed part of the Corporation Tax dodgingTunes Festival. And it was there, on that day, that he lost his shit.
Look at his little face! Look how happy he is crowdsurfing away! Look at limbs flail on an ocean of sweaty pallid flesh and gurning faces like a blindfolded horse on roller skates hurled out the back of a moving Transit on the Oxford ring road (northbound)! Bet he got the bloody tickets for free as well. He checked all his cares in the world in with his coat when he walked through the doors, you can tell.
Yep, his life is perfect, and he had pretty much the perfect day on Saturday. Now take a long hard look at your own life and ask the one simple question; how can I be more Crouch?
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