Story goes something like this: Glen Rice, former NBA All-star/NBA and NCAA Champion, shows up at his "estranged" wife's crib on a lonely Friday night in Miami.
Glen: So, who's that dude you been with?
Wife (Christina): Dude?
Glen: I SAID, who's that dude you been with?
Christina: Uh, uh, uh....
Glen: Look, I don' seen What's Love Got To Do With It enough to know how to slap a bitch. Palms up. Fingers wide. I SAID WHO IS THAT MUAH'FUCKA YOU BEEN WITH?
(Whimpering heard from a nearby closet)
We'll pick up the story from there because Rice stormed to the closet, only to find 37-year-old Alberto Perez cowering in there like Harriet Tubman was running late with the Underground Railroad.
According to police, Perez got yoked up by the neck and caught one in the middle of a closet. Those of y'all who are professional dippers, i.e., cheaters, this is an image you need to absorb: Shivering in a closet like a runaway slave, only to be pulled out of that mug by your freakin' neck.
Those who get cheated on, you need to really remember this: If he/she doesn't want you, let her/him go. Why catch a case over some dumb shit? Fact is, G-Rice didn't want to be with his wife, otherwise they wouldn't be "estranged." He just didn't want anyone else to have her, and his manly pride took a blow because she was likely getting hers the way he had been getting his. A man's ego is fragile enough, but the ego of a superstar athlete is 20 times more delicate. They pay, so they expect to have total say. Whether they plan on being faithful or not. G-Rice probably felt like he had supplied her with enough income to guarantee her faithfulness.
Don't matter if he was banging half of South Beach. Membership has its privileges.
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